Early Settlers of Union County, Georgia: July 2010

Saturday, July 31, 2010

May--An Important Month in U.S. History

The “Merry Month of May” for 2010 is soon to end. We will celebrate its last day and an important national holiday, Memorial Day, on Monday, May 31. It is a time to honor our patriotic dead and to recall the sacrifices they made for our freedoms. “Lest we forget,” let us take time to consider the price paid for liberty.

Such beauty as we enjoy can sometimes take our minds from more serious matters. Spring is here with great profusion of growing, blossoming landscapes. But it was also thought by old timers that May was a difficult month, one that required attention to practices of good health to get through the month. Two sayings characterized the month: For those already ill with some critical disease, the prediction was, “Ah, he (or she) will never get up May-hill.” Another had a brighter aspect: “If he can climb May-hill, he’ll do.” Well, we “climbed May hill” again this year, and I hope we are another year wiser as well as having reached another milestone in years accrued. Let us consider some blessing we too often take for granted.

In a review of American history, we see that a new, struggling America following winning of the Revolutionary War set the second Monday in May as a time to have delegates from the thirteen independent states (no longer colonies under the King of England) meet in Philadelphia in 1787, “for the sole and express purpose of revising the Articles of Confederation.”

The Convention was convened on May 14, 1787. Rhode Island declined to send delegates. From the other twelve states, seventy had been selected to go to Philadelphia. Only fifty-five of the seventy delegates elected to go ultimately attended, and of those fifty-five, only thirty-nine ended up signing, not the revised Articles of Confederation, but the brand new document, the Constitution of the United States. It took from May 14 until May 25 to get a quorum of the delegates together to revise the Articles of Confederation.

Many of the arguments, proposals, objections, revisions and adoptions are a matter of record, and can be accessed if anyone is an avid student of how our Constitution came about. However, that group of fifty-five delegates from twelve states represented the citizens, and was truly a “think-tank” for America’s document that has stood through the years.

Georgia’s elected delegates to the Convention were Abraham Baldwin, William Few, William Houstoun, and William L. Pierce. Of the four, only two went to Philadelphia and participated in that May conclave in 1787. These two were Abraham Baldwin and William Few who eventually signed the Constitution after it was circulated in Georgia (and other states). It met with general approval, following the addition of the first ten items in the Bill of Rights. It took from May 14, the day of convening of the Convention to revise the Articles of Confederation, until September 17, 1787, four months, for the new Constitution to be passed. One of the primary arguments was that states’ rights be assured, with the federal government not being all-powerful over the states. Considering the means of communication and transportation in 1787, the passage of the document in four months was indeed a spectacular feat.

It was to the wise, elderly Benjamin Franklin, that final success of the Convention is due. He rose, and reading from a prepared speech which has been preserved for later generations to read, he stated: “Mr. President, I confess that there are several parts of this Constitution which I do not at present approve, but I am not sure that I shall never approve them…The older I grow, the more apt I am to doubt my own judgment and to pay more attention to the judgment of others…I think a general government necessary for us…what may be a blessing to the people if well-administered…On the whole, sir, I cannot help expressing a wish that every member of the Convention, who may still have objections to it, would, with me, on this occasion, doubt a little of his own infallibility, and make manifest our unanimity, put his name to this instrument.” Benjamin Franklin then introduced the motion to have the delegates sign the document.

And to that document, thirty-nine men set their signatures, enough to give the newly formed United States of America a document, which, though amended numerous times throughout its more than two-century history, still stands as a beacon to democratic governments world-wide. One of the major responsibilities of the president of the United States is to “uphold the Constitution.” Now, we as citizens must be discerning that whatever person is president will honor and uphold the document that was formed in the month of May so many years ago. As citizens of a wonderful nation, we have to “climb May hill” all over again to assure that those things which are vital to the fabric of our freedom are not ripped out, torn apart, misinterpreted and cast aside. On Memorial Day, may we give these “May summits” and all who worked on, stood for and died for them some very serious thought and thanks.

Cherokee Names and Legends

BLOOD MOUNTAIN

Elevation 4458 Ft.

Chattahoochee National Forest
--------------0-------------
In Cherokee mythology the mountain was one

of the homes of the Nunnehi or Immortals,

the “People Who Live Anywhere,” a race of

Spirit People who lived in great townhouses

in the highlands of the old Cherokee Country.

One of these mythical townhouses stood near

Lake Trahlyta. As a friendly people they

often brought lost hunters and wanderers to

their townhouses for rest and care before

Guiding them back to their homes. Before

the coming of white settlers, the Creeks

and Cherokees fought a disastrous and bloody

battle at Slaughter Gap between Slaughter

and Blood Mountain.

The historical marker gives interesting information about early dwellers in our land. The Cherokee who were in Union County long before the white settlers left us many names and legends that, though sometimes sad, enrich our land and lend much food for thought. The historical marker on Blood Mountain gives a taste of both legend and real history, and helps us know why the mountain was named Blood.

First, to the myth about the Nunnehi, immortal people. These were believed to be the immortals who dwelt in these mountains. Their task was to help all who traveled and needed assistance of any sort. We can only imagine how overwhelming was their tasks when the Creeks and Cherokees met in battle at Slaughter Gap near Blood Mountain. It is said the blood ran down so profusely from the dead and wounded that the whole area was covered in blood. Hence the names, Blood Mountain and Slaughter Gap.

Prior to the Revolutionary War, the Cherokee had made contact with English, French and Spanish settlers. They had learned to trade and make bargains with the European colonists. We find many instances of Cherokee leaders negotiating with traders and government officials. Oftentimes, the Cherokee would make raids against the settlers. Living on the frontier in those days was fraught with danger. In the Revolution, the Cherokee sided with the British against the colonists.

In 1791 at what was called the Holston Conference, Cherokee-American negotiations were somewhat stabilized. There followed several treaties in which Cherokee land was ceded to states and the federal government. By 1819, the Cherokee Nation was left with about ten million acres of their former land holdings. Some of the Cherokee began to move to western lands in the early 1800’s. The Overhill Cherokee that had remained in the mountains of Georgia, the Carolinas and Tennessee were the most adamant against moving west. In 1828, the government of Georgia declared Cherokee law null and void. Governor Gilmer, with the support of President Andrew Jackson, sent troops to push the Cherokees out. The next governor, Wilson Lumpkin, continued to push for Cherokee removal. Many had left before the final exodus and the Trail of Tears that began under the military direction of General Winfield Scott in 1838.

When white settlers began to come into what became Union County in 1832, some Indians remained but most had already moved.

The town of Blairsville was incorporated on December 26, 1835 and became Union’s county seat. Two reports exist about whom the town was named for. In his Georgia Place Names, Kenneth Krakow states that it was named for Francis Preston Blair (1791-1876), a Kentuckian, editor of The Washington Globe newspaper which was established to support Andrew Jackson’s presidency. The fine house in which F. P. Blair lived in Washington was purchased for government property and is now known as the Blair House.

The other person (probably more authentically) for whom the town of Blairsville was named was Captain James Blair. He was an official Cherokee Indian agent, born in Augusta County, Virginia in 1761, and listed as working in Tennessee, Georgia and the Carolinas as an Indian agent between the years of 1801-1835. The naming of our county seat town for this Blair was declared in “The Blair Family Magazine,” Volume 8, No. 3 in the Fall of 1990 by researcher Margaret Vance Webb. She tells how James Blair worked to settle land claims and to assist with Cherokee removal from Georgia. In Habersham County, Georgia, where Georgia Highways 115 and 105 intersect, a historical marker indicates that spot as where the “Blair Line” crossed. The historical marker reads: “It was a line between the state of Georgia and the Cherokee Nation, surveyed by Captain James Blair in the early 1800’s. The line extended from the forks of the Soque and the Chattahoochee Rivers in a direct northerly line to the Tallulah River. It was the boundary line in 1817 for all the lands east of the Chattahoochee River by the State of Georgia from the Cherokee Nation by the Treaty of 1818.”

This abbreviated sketch merely hits the high places of the stormy era of our history prior to and leading up to Cherokee Removal. Each time you hear a name, like Walisiyi, Trahlytah, Arkaquah, Coosa, Choestoe, and many more, know that the Cherokee left place names where they once lived, names that we now take for granted in our familiarity with our beloved county. Honor the names and the land left to us. They came our way at great sacrifice and with much heartbreak.

Some Early Settlers Named Gaddis and the Gaddistown District

If we could see the past, then of course it would look different. For there was a time when every man was a part of his mother,. . .and. . . part of his grandparents. If you could see humanity spread out in time, as God sees it, it would look like one single growing thing…rather like a very complicated tree. Every individual would appear connected to every other.” -C. S. Lewis (1898-1963)

The famous English theologian and apologist, C. S. Lewis, whom I have quoted here, had the right idea when he stated that humanity is “like a very complicated tree,” and that “every individual…(is) connected to every other.” In our eagerness to find out about the past, we are searching for that giant tree, and our connectedness. I enjoy looking at the names listed in the 1834 Union County census when the county was brand new, just becoming established, two years after its organization. I am fascinated by names of people who made up the early settlers, learned by noting names in that census. And that is how I came to the name Gaddis for a brief look. They left behind a place named for them, Gaddistown, the southwestern-most district in the County, surrounded by Coopers Creek to the north, a portion of Fannin County to the west, Canada District to the east, and Lumpkin County to the south.

In 1834 there were five Gaddis households listed in the census, with a total of twenty-four people bearing that family name—thirteen males and eleven females. Since only heads-of-households and number in the family unit were listed in 1834, we learn that these Gaddis men were early settlers in the county: Linsey Gaddis (3 males, 2 females), Iredell Gaddis (1 male, 2 females), James Gaddis, Sr. (3 males, 2 females), James Gaddis, Jr. (4 males, 2 females), and Lewis Gaddis (2 males, 3 females).

By 1840, the Gaddis households in that year’s census had increased to nine, with household populations giving a total of 30 males and 28 females with the Gaddis last name. Those listed were as follows: John Gaddis (4 m. 3 f.), Iredell Gaddis (2 m. 3 f.), Lewis Gaddis (2 m. 4 f.), James Gaddis (6 m., 1 f.), Drury Gaddis (4 m. 1 f.), another Drury Gaddis (3 m. 5 f.), William Gaddis (1 m. 2 f.), George Gaddis (5 m., 3 f.) and Emry (sic) Gaddis (2 m. 4 f).

By 1850, interestingly, only three Gaddis families were listed (one spelled Gettis). By that census, we have names and ages listed, and the state the head of household migrated from. Susan Gaddis, age 47, lived in household 85, with children Susan, 14, Allen, 12, and Matilda 8. In the household with Susan Gaddis were two with the last name of Black, their given names Iven, age 19 and John, age 23. In the Gettis (sic) household numbered by the census taker 917, were M. M., age 31, and his wife, Lucila, age 25, both born in North Carolina, and an elder lady, Elenor, age 70 (maybe M. M.’s mother?), all born in North Carolina. The third Gaddis, (in household # 969) was Lewis, age 47, born in North Carolina, his wife, Margaret, age 43, born in South Carolina, and these children: Eline, age 20, born in SC, and Elizann, 18, Allen, 14, Elvira, 12, Margaret, 10, Perlina, 8, and Archibald, 5 (the last six born in Georgia). In doing some Gaddis family research elsewhere, I found a bit of information that stated that many of the Gaddis families, living close to Lumpkin County, moved on over to that county and were involved in the later “gold rush” there. This I have not authenticated. Either some Gaddis families were missed in the 1850 census, or they had migrated to another county by that time.

We can assume that Gaddistown District was named for James Gaddis (Sr. or Jr.), Linsey Gaddis, Iredell Gaddis, or Lewis Gaddis, the first families of the Gaddis name that settled Union. The district lies along the Toccoa River that runs north, and has some very productive bottom lands for farming. The Gaddistown post office application was approved June 15, 1848. Interestingly, the request was not made by a Gaddis, but by John D. Cavender, another citizen of Gaddistown, who was the first postmaster from its opening until February 2, 1852. The post office continued for a total of 107 years, closing in 1955.

The name Gaddis (spelled in many ways—Gettis, Geddes, Gadice, Gattis) is a Scots-Irish name, a habitational or place name. In Scotland, the earliest found with this name were those who “lived on a ridge.” It is interesting that as the Gaddis forebears came to America, they migrated to and settled in the hilly sections of North and South Carolina, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, and Georgia. They seemed to make their homes along mountainous terrain and learned to make a way and a living in the hill country.

Continuing the Legacy of Benjamin J. Ledford: Son Benjamin Mercer and Grandson Arthur Paul Ledford

The Civil War brought hard times and “make do” situations even to families in remote Union County, Georgia. As we’ve already seen in the account of Silas L. Ledford, third child of fifteen born to the early settler Benjamin J. Ledford (1800-1882), who joined the Georgia Cavalry and the Local Defense Troops, so another son of Benjamin, his eleventh-born, also had a term in Civil War fighting.

Benjamin Mercer Ledford (11/14/1838-03/24/1919) was Benjamin’s eleventh child. His mother was Grace Ownbey Ledford. On May 10, 1862, he enlisted with the 6th Regiment, Georgia Cavalry Volunteers, Company B. He received the rank of captain. He was wounded in the knee at the Battle of Chickamauga . This brought about his subsequent resignation from active duty. He continued to serve in the Local Defense Troops and evidently received the rank of Colonel in that group, for he was often referred to as “Colonel Ledford.”

An interesting incident occurred while he was in service. He was visiting in a friend’s home in Loudon County, Tennessee. While there, Union troops attacked the house. How he had time, before the soldiers came into the house trying to kill any of the Confederate soldiers they found, is not exactly known. But the story has been passed down about how Benjamin Mercer Ledford escaped death. He donned the garb of a woman, and with a bonnet on, was at the dough board kneading bread when the invasion occurred. His life was spared, and for good cause. He married Sarah Blair (09/28/1838-09/13/1889) on July 29, 1863, daughter of his friend in whose house he had escaped death.

Benjamin Mercer and Sarah Ledford made their way back to Union County, Georgia to set up housekeeping. Since her father was a substantial citizen of Loudon County, and owner of slaves, he gave Sarah slaves to help her with housekeeping and Benjamin Mercer with his farm work on Gum Log in Union County where they settled. This couple gave ten acres to Antioch Baptist Church from the land holdings they had acquired.

Benjamin Mercer Ledford became an ordained Baptist minister, announcing his call on October 18, 1873. He received his license to preach by Ebenezer Baptist Church three years later on July 14, 1876. Not only interested in helping the churches in the district where the Ledfords lived, it is believed that he also preached at churches “over in North Carolina” from his home. He was very much interested in education and was successful in securing a grant for a high school for the Gum Log district from Peabody Funds. This school was established about 1880 and was a boon to that section of the county.

Benjamin and Sarah had six known children: Mary L. (1865), Mamie May (1867), Arthur Paul (1869), William J. (1872), Bettie A. (1874) and Benjamin M. (1877, who died as an infant). When Sarah died in 1889, she was laid to rest in the Antioch Baptist Church Cemetery on land her husband had given to the church. Benjamin Mercer married twice more: to Eliza Plott and to Lena Gray (believed to be a Cherokee Indian). He later moved from his beloved Gum Log and lived in Cherokee County, NC. He was interred at the Friendship Baptist Church Cemetery, Suit, NC.

The third child of Benjamin and Sarah, Arthur Paul (01/12/1869-04/07/1931) became a noted merchant and owned and operated his own store in the Gum Log District. Arthur Paul, known lovingly as “Bud” Ledford, started working in the mercantile business by hiring on at the store of Charley Mauney. In 1924, Bud purchased the store for himself. It was a popular trading place in that section of the county. He bought another store on Gum Log Road in 1925, and operated it until his death in 1931.

Arthur Paul Ledford married Alcy Dona Ensley (04/14/1870-04.01/1943) on December 20, 1888 in Union County. Her parents were Robert and Martha Parris Ensley of Gum Log. To “Bud” and Dona were born six children; Mamie Isabell (1890-1981) married John Calvin Hood; Alma Udora (1893-1969) married Jess C. Bradley; Obed Erick (1894-1977) married Nora Brown; Benjamin Robert (1897-1928) married Ada Wilson; Baxter Wayne (1902-?) married Bert(a) Miller and moved to Ohio; and William Blair (1906-1987) married Violet Lance.

Bud Ledford died April 7, 1931 in Franklin, NC after stomach surgery. His body was returned and buried at Antioch Baptist Church Cemetery, Gum Log. Later, when his beloved wife, Dona passed (April 1, 1943), she was interred alongside her husband’s grave.

The Ledford families played an important role in Union County history from the early years until the present. Those who went out to other places likewise were strong contributing citizens. For example, Amy Vianna Ledford (1830-1892), seventh child of Benjamin J. and Grace Ownbey Ledford, who married William Franklin of Union County about 1851, moved with her family to Coryell County, Texas in 1889. We can only imagine the long journey from Union County to Texas by covered wagon, via Arkansas and other stops along the way. They left Union County in 1883 and arrived in Weatherford Texas in 1889—a long and eventful journey with many stops in between.

There is much more to the Ledford story, but I will leave it to others to write. Suffice it to say that the family of Benjamin J. Ledford played an important role in establishing a solid citizenry wherever they went from their roots in North Carolina and North Georgia.

Continuing the Ledford Legacy: Benjamin's Son Silas and Grandson Mercer

Last week we looked at the life and times of early Union County settler, Benjamin J. Ledford (1800-1892) who settled on land along Ivy Log Creek. He had a large family of fifteen known children. His third child, Silas L. Ledford (1822 – 1891), and one of Silas’s sons, Mercer Lafayette Ledford, will be the focus of this article.

Silas L. Ledford had an older sister, Hannah (b. 1819) and an older brother, Josiah (b. 1820) when his mother, Grace Ownbey Ledford (07/30/1799 – 06/12/1864) gave birth to him in Buncombe County, North Carolina on October 22, 1822. He would have other siblings: Sallie, Martha, Porter, Amy Vianna, John C., Carolina L, Patterson and Mercer, all born in North Carolina before the family came to Union and settled in Ivy Log. The youngest of his siblings, Pinkney, was born after the family arrived in Georgia. Later, after his mother died, his father, Benjamin J. Ledford, married Sarah Salena Chapman Miller and Silas L. had three half-siblings, Solomon S., Mary and William, who were younger than Silas’s children.

As we saw in last week’s account of Benjamin J. Ledford, Silas’s father, he was a large land owner. He gave his son Silas some acreage and on it he build a log cabin which became the first house for him and his wife, Dolly Elmira Bowling Ledford (b. ca. 1821) whom he married in Union County on December 19, 1841. She was a daughter of Thomas and Mary McDonald Bowling. This marriage blended two early settler families, for Dolly’s father had helped to cut timbers to build Union County’s first court house in the early 1830’s, and he also was elected an early sheriff of Union County.

To Silas and Dolly Bowling Ledford were born five children: Thomas (1845), Benjamin A. (1846), Gracie Caroline (1848), Louisa (1849), and Ellantha M. (1851). The exact date of Dolly’s death is unknown, but it occurred between 1851 and 1856. Silas married his second wife, Eliza Arminda Bowling (1837-1897), who may have been a sister of his first wife, Dolly. To Eliza and Silas were born nine children: Andrew, Jane, John S., Alice V., Mercer Lafayette, Ida, Virgil C., Sallie Isabelle and Frank H.

When the Civil War came, Silas L. Ledford served in Captain Young’s Company, the Georgia Cavalry, Local Defense Troops. Whether he saw action in battle or just defended the home front is not known. His main occupation was farmer. No record was found of the burial of Silas, Dolly and Eliza Ledford in the Union County cemeteries book. It is believed that he and his second wife, Eliza, were both buried in unmarked graves in the Antioch Baptist Church Cemetery. Silas left a will, probated in 1888. In it, he made no mention of children Thomas, Louisa, Ellantha or Frank. They may have preceded their father in death.

Some interesting facts are known about Mercer Lafayette Ledford, tenth child of Silas Ledford, whose mother was Eliza Bowling Ledford. He was born September 24, 1865. Mercer attended the Ivy Log High School. At age seventeen, he took the Georgia certification test and became a teacher. He taught first at Ebenezer School, a country school located on land his grandfather and then his father had owned.

On June 16, 1897, Mercer Lafayette Ledford married Florence Iowa Christopher. She was a daughter of John A. and Sarah Martin Christopher. Well educated for a woman of her era, Florence had attended school in Blairsville and also graduated from the Hiawassee Baptist Academy. She taught school for several years before her marriage. To Florence and Mercer were born four children: Sarah, Ina, Curtis and Louisa.

Mercer and Florence moved to Gwinnett County where he continued to teach. He became interested in law, and began to “read” law in the firm of Juhan and McDonald. He passed the state bar in 1892 and began the practice of law in Lawrenceville.

Union County drew this couple back to their roots. They moved back to Union County where he set up a law practice. It is said that his first trial in Union County was held at the Ebenezer Baptist Church. What precipitated this place for the trial is unknown to this writer. In Union County, Mercer Lafayette Ledford distinguished himself as a lawyer and community servant. He was on the County School Board and served for a time as County School Commissioner (Superintendent). In 1902 he was elected to the state senate to represent the district and served for three terms, authoring bills and serving on committees.

The Mercer Ledford family moved to Cairo, Georgia (Grady County) about 1905. There he practiced law, became county attorney, served on the school board and was active on the Democratic executive committee from that district. He held membership in various civic organizations and had leadership positions in Woodmen of the World and Cairo Lodge F & AM. He and Florence were active members of the Baptist Church in Cairo. Mercer Lafayette Ledford is an example of a grandson of an early settler who went out from the environs of Union County and did well in his chosen profession.

Early Union Settler Benjamin J. Ledford (1800-1892)

In the years since I’ve been writing about people, places and events in these “Through Mountain Mists” columns, there are many surnames familiar to Union County’s residents, past and present, which I have not yet mentioned. To use mountain vernacular, It is hard to “get a round to it” for all of them.

I like to examine the 1834 and 1840 census records of Union County to pinpoint names and see if I can trace some of the descendants of those listed. I found no Ledford families in the first (1834) census, but by 1840 there were four families of Ledfords, that of Benjamin with nine members at that time, that of Thomas with eight in his household, William, with ten, and George with eight. The total population of Ledfords in Union in 1840 numbered thirty-five. Whether Benjamin, Thomas, William and George were related, maybe brothers or cousins, I did not uncover. Maybe readers and descendants of some of the first four Ledford families can add some light on this puzzle. Because I did easily find information on Benjamin J. Ledford and some of his descendants, he will be the present focus.

Ledford is an interesting surname. English, deriving from the Anglo-Saxon, it is what we call a habitation name, or a name derived from the place where the first lived bearing this name. The prefix, spelled variously “Hlude” “Lud,” “Lyd,” and later “Led” (and add to that earlier “Latch”) come from the Anglo-Saxon and means “loud, fast-flowing river.” Suffix of “Forde” meaning a shallow place for crossing the river, the name, then, described the people from the shallow place beside the loud-flowing river. They were identified by where they lived. Later, rivers themselves got names, so those who dwelt by them might receive the name of the river itself with the addition of the suffix ford, to indicate they lived near the river crossing.

What we know as Ledford originated around Somerset and Devonshire in England. In Anglo-Saxon records as early as 997, families named Lydford lived in Devonshire. Ludesfords were listed in the Domesday Book of 1086. A John Lodeford applied in London in 1450 for a marriage license. William Ludford married Vertue Rocker at Canterbury Cathedral in Kent in 1669. Further anglicized, the prefix became “Led” with the addition of the suffix “ford.”

The ancestors of Union County’s Benjamin J. Ledford (02/03/1800 – 03/24/1892) have been traced to a John Ledford who settled in North Carolina prior to the Revolutionary War. His son, John, Jr., the father of Benjamin, fought in the Revolution, thus giving this family ties back to that important event in American history.

John Ledford, Jr. had rather extensive land holdings in Buncombe County, North Carolina on Hominy Creek. Therein is seen that tendency still, probably ingrained since Anglo-Saxon times, of Ledfords settling and clearing land near a “loud flowing stream”—creek or river. John, Jr. (wife’s name unknown) had six children, four sons and two daughters, listed in the 1800 census in Burke County, NC, but names of these six, except for Benjamin, are unknown to this writer. Who knows? Maybe the four Ledfords in Union County, Georgia in 1840 were brothers. We can only wonder until this is uncovered and proved.

Benjamin Ledford married first Grace Ownbey (07/30/1799 – 06/12/1864), a daughter of Porter and Martha Morgan Ownbey. A land deed for 123 purchased acres along Hominy Creek in Buncombe County, North Carolina was registered to Benjamin Ledford in 1829. In 1832, he added another 100 acres to his holdings. The town of Candler, NC was founded on land held by Benjamin.

But, like many of their neighbors, Benjamin and Grace Ownbey decided to migrate to the mountains of North Georgia when Cherokee lands opened up for white settlers. He sold his land in North Carolina in 1839 and moved to Union County, Georgia to acreage he secured on Ivy Log Creek. There he erected a log cabin and cleared the land for farming. There this couple reared their large family of twelve children: Hannah (1819), Josiah (1820), Silas L. (1822), Sarah Mareilla (called Sallie, 1824), Martha M. (named for Grace’s mother, 1826), Porter L. (named for Grace’s father, 1827), Amy Vianna (1830), John C. (named for Benjamin’s father, 1832), Carolina L. (1834), Patterson (1835), Benjamin Mercer (first name for his father, 1838), and Pinckney (1840).

Grace Ownbey Ledford died in 1864, during the Civil War, and was buried at the Ebenezer Baptist Church Cemetery, Gum Log District of Union County. Grace lived to see all of her children reach adulthood except for the youngest, Pinckney, born in 1840, who was fourteen when his mother passed. Benjamin, widowed, married the second time in Union County to Sarah Salena Chapman Miller, widow of Civil War soldier Henry Miller. Their marriage took place September 18, 1868. Salena was much younger than Benjamin (04/18/1837 – 06/24/1920). Salena’s parents were Solomon and Adeline Odom Chapman. Three children were born to Benjamin and Salena: Solomon S. (1870), Mary (1873) and William (1875). The birth of these three later in Benjamin’s life brought his total number of known children to fifteen.

Benjamin J. Ledford died March 24, 1892, having reached the advanced age of ninety-two. He was laid to rest beside his first wife, Grace, in the Ebenezer Baptist Church Cemetery, Gum Log. Salena lived until June 24, 1920. She, too, was buried in the Ebenezer Cemetery.

Lives and exploits of some of the fifteen of Benjamin Ledford’s children will be explored in subsequent articles. This pioneer and his descendants, whose surname meant from ancient times “dweller beside the loud, roaring river,” made a difference in the early life of Union and other counties where they migrated.

Spring in Appalachia –The Service (Sarvis, Sorbus) Tree Blooms

In spring in Appalachia we look through eyes of winter’s lingering to see signs of renewal. Stretching up our mountainsides are trees with snow-white blooms, looking more like angel-clouds descended and brightening our still cool days.

It is our sarvis tree (also known as service tree, an Anglicization of the Latin sorbus torminalis, or wild service tree). Its white blossoms are as welcome as the spring sunshine, as heartening as the balmy breezes that blow from the south to awaken all of nature and bring hope and beauty to a gray landscape.

Our north Georgia poet, Byron Herbert Reece (1917-1958) wrote about the service tree in his second book of poems, Bow Down in Jericho (E. P. Dutton, 1950). The poem is so beautiful, so to-the-point. It gives such a clear word-picture of the scene that no explication should be forthcoming. Just enjoy his words, his insight, his flawless presentation in:

We Could Wish Them a Longer Stay

Plum, peach, apple and pear
And the service tree on the hill
Unfold blossom and leaf.
From them comes scented air
As the brotherly petals spill.
Their tenure is bright and brief.

We could wish them a longer stay,
We could wish them a charmed bough
On a hill untouched by the flow
Of consuming time; but they

Are lovelier, dearer now
Because they are soon to go,
Plum, peach, apple and pear
And the service blooms whiter than snow.

-Byron Herbert Reece (in Bow Down in Jericho, 1950)

Reece in his poem pairs the “service tree on the hill” with more domesticated trees common to Appalachian orchards: “plum, peach, apple and pear.” There on the mountainside, the service tree bears its blossoms, fragrant in the early-spring.

It gives me a sense of connectedness to know that my grandmother looked out and saw the service (sarvis) tree blooming and declared, “Spring is here!” And it was also with a sense of continuation back to her mother and grandmother before her who had likewise looked for this harbinger of spring on the mountainsides, lighting up the grayness before all the trees had budded forth.

A commonly held belief about why this tree was called the “sarvis” or service tree is likewise a part of our Appalachian culture. It bloomed out in time to be gathered and taken to church services (sarvis) in the early spring. It could also be used at spring funerals, some of which had to be delayed until the ground was thawed enough to dig the grave and bury the dead. I can’t remember this happening, but I am told it was true, back when our winters were much more severe than now. Much farther north than our North Georgia mountains, I did once visit in the Adirondak mountain region and saw a “holding place” where the corpse was kept until the thawing ground removed the resistance and allowed the shovels to enter to dig the grave.

And why did Reece, in his poem, relate the service tree blossoms to our better known “plum, peach, apple and pear”? I think it was because they bloomed close to the same time in spring. He could have included it because the service tree had fruits of its own coming in the fall season as a result of spring blooming. The service tree bears a small edible fruit which is similar to a date. This fruit is stringy and astringent.

My grandmother, Sarah Evaline Souther Dyer (an herbalist “doctor”) would have known that it was good for colic when boiled and made into medicine. Even the second part of the Latin name, “sorbus torminalis,” means “good for colic.” Also, when the fruit was left until the over-ripe or “bletted” stage, it became less-astringent and good for use as food as well as for home-brewed medicines.

Go back now and re-read Reece’s beautiful poem. Let its lines help you to see “the service tree on the hill.” These “blooms whiter than snow” provide a lovely sight to winter-weary eyes. “We could wish them a longer stay,” but alas, time moves on (and times, too, for that matter). And so do our mountain ways, our connections to a past life slower in pace, our ways of “making-do” and appreciating what we have. Even a show of spring and blossoms ready for “services”—whether church celebration or funeral wake —can remind us of those good times. We can only prolong these white blossoms of our rich mountain life through passing on our lore, our stories, our memories. They, like “the service blossoms whiter than snow” are “lovelier, dearer now/Because they are soon to go.” Let us do what we can to help these rich stories remain among us.

She Has Worn Many Hats: Saluting Loujine Young Shuler on Her Birthday April 10

Loujine Young Shuler (left) is shown with two of her Class of 1947, Union County High School, classmates at their golden anniversary class reunion June 14, 1997 at Blairsville. Loujine traveled from Walden, CO to be present for the event; Elbert Dennis Wilson from Wales, Michigan, and Ethelene Dyer Jones from Epworth, GA (where she lived at that time). Friends in high school--friends in the "golden" years!

Something as simple as telephone calls can renew an avalanche of memories and launch a simple project that will eventually result in much happiness.

I speak of recent telephone calls, one from a mother and one from her son. Neither knew the other was calling me. Both calls precipitated this column about my Union County Classmate, then Loujine Young, now Loujine Young Shuler, who went out from Union County and did well as wife, mother, grandmother, great grandmother and professional woman.

Let me quickly note that neither Loujine nor her son Carl remotely suggested I write about Loujine. They are too humble and unpretentious to seek publicity at all. To write about her is my own idea, my choice. But let me get on with the subject at hand, that of noting some of Loujine Young Shuler’s accomplishments and why Union County can be proud of this just-about-to-turn octogenarian.

And if you are a friend to Loujine, know her now or knew her in the past when she lived and grew up in Union County, will you please take the time to send her a birthday card. Loujine’s son Carl Shuler and her daughter Gwendolyn Shuler Hanson are both hoping a virtual “shower of cards” of good wishes will be sent to their beloved mother on or before her 80th birthday on April 10. Right now, Loujine is temporarily in Arizona with her granddaughter Jodie and may be addressed at Mrs. Loujine Y. Shuler, 21875 West Casey Lane, Buckeye, AZ 85326. Loujine will be returning soon to her home in northern Colorado where she spends the “warm” months of the year and may be addressed there at P. O. Box 296, Walden, CO 80480-0296.

Loujine Young was born April 10, 1930 to Joseph Benjamin Ezekiel Young (Dec. 18, 1891-May 3, 1931) and Birdie Maybelle Ingram Young (Sep. 25, 1896-Jul. 15, 1997). She was the youngest of five children. Her siblings were Ray Alan Young (1920-1941) who married Juanita Thomas; Clara Pauline Young (1922 - 1999) who married Howard McCarter; Joseph Benjamin (J. B.) Young (1924-1994) who married Dortha Pauline Henderson; and Floyd James Young (1927-1984) who married Alice Kathleen Freeman.

Loujine’s father, Zeke Young, died when Loujine was just a year old. Her mother worked hard to keep house and home together and rear the children to be solid, productive citizens during the hard times of the Depression, World War II, and the children’s “growing up” years.

I met Loujine first when we both became students of Union County High School, Blairsville, in our “Fabulous Class of 1947”. I was a country girl who had gone to Choestoe Elementary School. Loujine was a “town girl,” having grown up in Blairsville, attending Blairsville Elementary. We enjoyed having classes together and developing a lasting friendship. Loujine stated in memoirs for the Class of 1947’s 50th Reunion Book distributed when we had a grand reunion in 1997 that she liked mathematics best of all her subjects, as “it helped her much in her later work.” We both have the late Mrs. Dora Hunter Allison Spiva to thank for our love for and whatever proficiency in math we have. Loujine was also athletic in nature, and played on the Union County girls’ basketball team.

In those years from 1943 through 1947 when we were in school, any basketball we played was on an outside court, for our school did not then have a gymnasium for our practice, games or athletic gatherings. In recalling those days of playing basketball, Loujine wrote, “When we went to schools with hardwood gym floors, our ball did some strange things. It was a challenge, but we still won games.”

Loujine and Vester Eugene “Gene” Shuler, son of Murphy Jane Fortenberry Shuler and Marion Shuler, were married July 17, 1948. The young couple settled down in northern Colorado in a town called Walden. Eugene worked as a maintenance supervisor and Loujine began her career as a postmaster at Walden in 1959, continuing that job for 33 years until her retirement on October 4, 1992.

Loujine and Eugene had two children, son Carl who married Patty Hines (a teacher) and Gwendolyn Shuler who married Kirk Hanson. Loujine delights in her grandchildren, Matthew Allen, Joie, and Adam Shuler and Jodie and Deanna Hanson. I haven’t a current count or names or number of great grandchildren (sorry, Loujine!).

Eugene, Loujine’s companion of more than sixty years, died October 30, 2007. Eugene was known for his hunting trips, they both liked to travel, and Eugene played his fiddle for many a gathering, especially the famed “Georgia Picnic” in Eaton, Colorado the last Sunday of August each year.

As postmaster at Walden, Colorado for 33 years, Loujine was well respected in the community and earned many rewards for her service as both postmaster and citizen. In 1990, the great Christmas Tree that was taken to Washington, D. C. to be placed on the White House lawn was gathered from near Walden. Loujine assisted with fundraising to get the tree transported and was able to go to Washington for its placement and lighting.

She also was active in preserving local history in Walden and received recognition for the special stamps, dyes and other items she promoted to help Walden be known throughout Colorado and even in the United States. This lady, well-reared by her beloved mother Birdie Ingram Young, and well-grounded in principles of faith, family and work ethic, went out from Union County and lighted up another place, a town called Walden. She and Eugene were active in Walden Baptist Church, and reared their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. In talking to Carl, their son, I find that he and his wife Patty enjoy providing music at worship services, Carl on guitar (having perhaps inherited his father’s love for producing instrumental music) and his wife Patty playing piano. So the talent goes on from Gene (and maybe Loujine, too) to the next generation.

In giving advice to the Class of 1947, Loujine said: “Enjoy life to the fullest each day you live. The golden years will be so full of fond memories you won’t have time for sadness.” My life has been enriched since 1943 by knowing Loujine Young Shuler. I am glad to call her friend, and happy for the fellowship we have enjoyed at class reunions and through other means in our “golden years.” Congratulations, Loujine, on reaching the milestone of 80 years. Best wishes for good health and continued happiness for you and yours. (And, as a reminder, remember to send Loujine a birthday card; we want to “shower” her with cards on her 80th!)

Memories of Easters Past

The early morning chill made shivers run through my body. I was but a child, maybe seven or eight at the oldest. I stood with other church members from Choestoe Baptist Church on the crest of the hill on the Holt property. From that vantage point, we had an excellent view of the eastern sky. Already it was tinged with streaks of gold and sparkling magenta. At the very first peek of the sun on the horizon, the Easter Sunrise Service began.

This, to my knowledge at least, was the first sunrise service I had ever attended. Our pastor, the Rev. Claud Boynton, who had come to our church when I was age six, was what we call a bi-vocational pastor. For his “real” living, he worked under that inimitable forest ranger, Mr. Arthur Woody, to patrol the forests of our section of north Georgia, to build fire breaks, to build roads, and whatever else was assigned to the forestry workers. And, as an additional—and I might add—called—job, he served as pastor at Choestoe Baptist Church and at Zion and maybe Mt. Lebanon, too, over in Suches community. Later, he would go to full-time status as pastor, with Choestoe and Blairsville First as his charges, and eventually only Blairsville First. But the Easter sunrise service of note was rather early in his career as an outstanding pastor in the hills of North Georgia.

Pastor Boynton had many innovative ideas that we at Choestoe had not experienced before. One of them was to hold an Easter sunrise service. And so we were gathered there, on the crest of the Holt property hill, awaiting the sunrise that early Easter morning.

As I mentioned above, I was cold. Mornings in Choestoe in March or early April (I did not look back to see which month Easter might have fallen, for I really don’t know exactly what year that long-ago sunrise service was held.) Even wrapped in my warmest coat, the early morning cold penetrated, and I wondered if I had been wise to attend the service. Everything about it was new and unusual to my child mind.

But the impression it made has held for my lifetime since then. I became aware at a very early age of how special Easter is. Where there was death and a tomb, there came, instead, resurrection from the dead and an empty grave. Where there was sadness and mourning, there came joy and hope. From that point onward in my life, any time I stood at the grave of one beloved, I did not consider the doom associated with death but the victory in resurrection.

You might say the cold I felt on that long-ago Easter morning when I attended my first sunrise service turned to a warmth in my heart that sees beyond death to life everlasting.

I can see in my mind’s eye the brilliance of the sunrise on that long ago Easter. I return again and again to the words my pastor, the Rev. Claud Boynton read from Matthew 28:1-10 (or maybe he read from Mark 16:1-11, or Luke 24:1-12, or John 20:1-18, all accounts of the resurrection). The experience of that first sunrise service made a deep and lasting impression on me. It changed my perspective on death and dying and gave me hope for life and eternity. How much would I need that hope, and how it grew into fruition a few years later when my beloved aunt, grandfather and my own mother died (I was only fourteen at her death).

So Easter is a time of hope.

It was many years later, 1978, as a matter of fact. It was not even Easter in early spring but July, and heat from the sun in the Holy Land let us (my husband Grover, his sister Estelle and I) know that we were in a strange land. But in a sense, it was not a strange land, for most of my life I had read and heard about the places Jesus frequented when He was in the flesh upon this earth.

My husband and I, in that summer of 1978, were having the privilege of visiting his sister Estelle who was a missionary to the Holy Land. We went together to many of the sites described in the Bible and where Jesus traveled, performed His miracles, taught His disciples. And finally, the sites where He prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, was tried by the Jewish Sanhedrin and in the Roman Praetorium, traveled on the Via Dolorosa (The Way of Sorrows), went to the cross on Golgotha, was placed in the tomb offered by Joseph of Arimathea, and then on that glorious First Easter, the tomb was empty.

We experienced seeing the empty tomb and hearing a service of celebration beside it. I thought of times in my husband’s ministry when he had led Easter sunrise services at various churches he pastored. All of those early morning vigils were filled with hope and joy. The visit to Jerusalem and the Garden Tomb was indeed a highlight of my Christian life and journey. But as impressive as the visit to the empty Garden Tomb was in our Holy Land trip, it was no more impressive than that first Easter sunrise service in my memory when the sun burst forth from behind the mountains as the assembly of faithful believers gathered on Holt’s Hill in Choestoe. Resurrection took on a most significant meaning then.

Friday, July 30, 2010

A Visit to Blairsville Around 1934

Believed to be the earliest extant picture of the 1899 Union County Courthouse, the edifice still stands on the square in Blairsville, Georgia. The red bricks were molded in the area. Architects named Golucke and Stewart designed the Romanesque Revival style building and M. B. McCinty received the bid to construct the building for $12,000, which was raised in one year by heavy increases in citizens' taxes.

The photograph was shot from the north view looking south. The old Christopher Hotel is shown on the right in the southwest corner of the square, and a store in the southeast corner to the left of the courthouse became Butt's Drug store later. (Courtesy Union County Historical Society)

What we call “the Old Court House,” now the home of the Union County Historical and Genealogical Society and the Union County Museum has occupied its present site in the center of the town square since 1899. Someone reconstructed a hand-made map of how the square looked one hundred and two years after the founding of Union County, the year 1934. Let’s take a visit this week to the town back then. It will help us get our bearings and appreciate the work and foresight of our forebears who really cared about the appearance and dignity of the county seat’s downtown.

Begin with the old courthouse itself. The modified Romanesque Revival style architecture stands out even today in its restored state as dignified and picturesque. The clock tower catches the eye first, pictured against the blue mountain sky, its arched windows on four sides once revealing the old bell that called attention to special meetings.

When that courthouse building was erected in 1899, these citizens served on the County Board of Commissioners: Jesse W. Souther (11-01-1840 – 03-07-1920) was county commissioner. Serving on the board with him were J. A. Butt, W. W. Ervin, and ordinary, John T. Colwell. Evidently then, commissioner and ordinary were two separate offices. These men put their heads together to try to come up with ways to finance the construction of the courthouse. They proposed bonds, but when the referendum was presented to the voters, it failed miserably.

They even considered a new site, rather than in the middle of the town square, on which to build the new building. After all, the older courthouse which had stood in the same spot, burned. It might be reasonable to find another location. They proposed buying lots diagonally to the courthouse square for $800, but that did not meet the public’s approval.

Mr. Stephen Major of Coosa District was generous and offered free land for the courthouse location if the citizens would but accept it. But again the offer of land, though with no cost attached, was defeated. So the commissioners decided to levy taxes to build a courthouse at the cost of $12,000. What a low price that seems to us in this twenty-first century. But then, the tax burden was heavy and many citizens had to sacrifice needed farm animals and other goods in order to keep their land and pay the accelerated taxes. To say the least, it wasn’t easy, building that grand edifice.

But the glorious old courthouse was built and it has stood, with modifications, for all these years since 1899. The center of court was moved to its new location in the new courthouse northwest of the square and the Historical Society undertook major restoration of the old courthouse. It was successfully placed on the National Register of Historic Places on September 18, 1980. Today, persons who want to research family history, examine displays of the county’s past, or enjoy the many cultural and artistic programs offered in the old courtroom have but to visit the old courthouse on the square. Thanks are due the citizens of the seventies and eighties and others since who have worked so unselfishly to maintain and perpetuate this portion of the county’s lofty past. C. R. Collins served as the first president of the Historical Society, and on the board then, during our country’s centennial year, 1976, were Edith Paris, Ronald Davenport, Herbert Dyer, Mary Smith, Ben F. Carr, Jan Devereaux, Bryan Webb, and Harold Nichols.

Now back to the year 1934 and that “in memory” visual trip around the town square and the old courthouse: Entering from the south, on the Gainesville Highway (recall that the Neal Gap Highway (now 129/19) was opened in 1925), a dwelling was on the right, and on the left a garage and another dwelling—this latter one once being the home of Judge Tom S. Candler. Proceeding around the square in 1934, visitors to the town would see a general store and a hotel building, with the jail a short distance behind the hotel. Next would be another dwelling, and on the corner, a general store. Next was a small café or lunchroom, a garage with a service station attached, and on the corner of the road leading to Young Harris, a drug store. Beyond that street, continuing around the square, another general store building, with an office building behind it commanded that space. I must mention that the Methodist Church was located just beyond this office building on the road leading to Young Harris. In later years, the location of the Methodist Church was moved just south of the square, and in the twentieth century, to its current Appalachian Development Highway location west of town.

Then continuing around the square, next came the Blairsville post office, an office building and a printing shop. A “lunch stand” was in the corner, and attached to it was a barber shop (Ben Wilson was proprietor and barber in the 1930’s). Next came a hotel (Akins), and then the street leading out of town and toward Murphy and Blue Ridge at the junction farther beyond town. On the southwest corner was a hotel building (Christopher) with another filling station attached, and a general store next door. Maybe someone in the readership can fill in names of people who owned these businesses and dwellings. The year 1934 was far too long ago, and I was too young to remember how the town square looked on some of my first visits to Blairsville from Choestoe to the south. But one thing I know and remember: A fondness for the place, its people and its history grew with each passing year. Here in 2010 I could wish for a time-machine so that I could return to those quieter days of yore when everyone knew his neighbor and all worked together, even to pay taxes that seemed impossible at the time. With a will the stately courthouse on the town square was erected, a substantial building that would be a monument to good government and a solid citizenry.

Beyond the Mountain Haze

Charles Weymon Cook shown with Mrs. Dora Hunter Allison Spiva at her 104th birthday celebration in February, 2009. He read a poem in tribute to her influence upon him as his high school mathematics teacher.

It is seldom that we can read a delightful and revealing story about a mountain family written in poetry, with just enough prose interspersed to make the line quite understandable and appealing.

Charles Weymon Cook who was born to Rufus and Nora Davenport Cook and calls Blairsville his hometown has done just that with his newly-published autobiographical poetry book entitled Beyond the Mountain Haze. Weymon, as he was known growing up in Union, now lives in Macon, Georgia. He is one of those native citizens who has gone out into other places and done well, first as a teacher, and now in his retirement as a writer. In this book paying tribute to his mountain heritage, he has captured in impeccable rhyme and rhythm many aspects of mountain life that are fast passing away under the guise of progress.

What makes the book even more appealing is the fact that its author is what I like to call a “walking miracle.” Charles Weymon Cook underwent heart transplant surgery on September 21, 2000. Not only did he live and do well, but he has been able to write and compile his delightful autobiography in verse and make it available to any who would like to know more about life in the “miracle” dimension of restored health. One way of offering his thanks for the gift of life is this book, well-crafted and pleasing to the eye as well as to the reader. It walks us through woodland paths and family solidarity, helps us meet and greet people significant in his life, and allows us new perspectives on the beauty of nature and the harmony of creation. And with thanks to his beautiful and compassionate wife, a teacher as he, LaVerne Young Cook, and their only child, daughter Christy, who assisted him with manuscript, typesetting and organization for the book, we have for our perusal a volume which I predict the reader will return to again and again.

Charles Weymon Cook’s father was Rufus Cook, “Mr. Ranger,” one of the earlier forest rangers in North Georgia who learned his skills as a forester under the able tutelage of Ranger Arthur Woody. Charles tells us that his father spent 43 years as a U. S. Forest Ranger. Among his skills were certified surveyor, timber-marker, forest-fire fighter, recreational facilities designer and builder, tower radio equipment manager and repairer—whatever the need within the far reaches of the mountain forests, Rufus Cook was there, walking the forests, keeping an eye diligently on the land and its care. Nine of Charles’s poems pay tribute to this giant of a fellow, both in stature and morally and spiritually, who gave him the firm foundation of a solid upbringing. We can sense love in every line in which this poet describes his father. Here’s but a small example from “Mr. Ranger”:

“I thank my God that I was there
To live and love and grow
Amidst the shadow of a giant,
With smiling face aglow.” (p. 65)

His mother, Nora Davenport Cook, has her section in the book. Both parents and their influence are seen throughout the book, but their own sections are especially provocative, leading the reader to recall and appreciate family roots that went deeply into the soil of a developing life and bore fruit in years “beyond the mountain haze.” A descendant of the early Davenport settlers to Union County for whom Davenport Mountain was named, Nora Cook was a stay-at-home mother who worked hard as an avid gardener and a dedicated housewife and mother. She did not tolerate “sassiness,” back-talk, or half-done chores. Her discipline and astuteness to details and homemaking values assured Charles and his siblings that they had a warm loving home where they were taught the principles of life:

“You taught me love with gentle hands,
Encouraging all the way;
You laid the founding cornerstone
By teaching me how to pray.” (p. 54)

I have the recent privilege of being associated with Charles Weymon Cook, teacher, poet, friend, having met him only in recent years through our associations in the Georgia State Poetry Society and the Byron Herbert Reece Society of which we are both members. Occasionally I am able to meet for a meal with him and his wife, LaVerne, or to travel to a meeting together. Having grown up in the same county, Charles and I didn’t know each other back when we were youth. I did know Charles’s older brother, Donald, as we were nearer together in age. The day of Mrs. Dora Hunter Allison Spiva’s 104th birthday celebration in February, 2009, Charles and I were both there and were able to read to her our individual poetic tributes for her profound influence on our lives. She had much to do with each of us choosing and pursuing careers in teaching.

Charles Weymon Cook writes in his “Introduction” to his book, Beyond the Mountain Haze: “My southern style ‘earthy’ verses simply reflect people, places and events that have influenced my life. Some things just tear at the heartstrings and trigger a melody in your soul that you wish to share with friends and neighbors.”

This very modest appraisal by the author of why he had to write the book only goes partially into why he should, indeed, have shared it. He had something to say, and he said it with apparent ease and facility. Find a copy of Beyond the Mountain Haze. My prediction is that you, as I, will return to its pages again and again for inspiration, information and enjoyment. He lifts the haze and allows us to see a miracle heart, restored and ready to give praise to the Creator of all beauty and the Sustainer of life. And this he does in understandable, sensitive and positive poetry. Congratulations, Charles Weymon Cook, mountain lad grown to productive citizen, whose knowledge and appreciation of family, environment and associations shine forth from the pages of your book.

Georgia's Pioneer Aviator--Micajah Clark Dyer (A Book Review)

Book cover design by Karen Turnage Merrill

A delightful and beautiful book has just come to me via its author, Sylvia Dyer Turnage. This great, great granddaughter of inventor Micajah Clark Dyer has long been interested in what this farmer-inventor accomplished back in the nineteenth century as he worked diligently to invent and improve, and yes, even fly what he called, appropriately, “An Apparatus for Navigating the Air.”

In our Dyer family, we had heard stories of Clark Dyer and his flying machine. Was this invention for real? Did he really make a vehicle that would take to the air and fly? As Sylvia Dyer Turnage and I were growing up in our home community of Choestoe, these tales of her great, great grandfather and my great, great uncle just would not die. Too many people had heard the tales. Two people, at least, in our acquaintance, my Uncle Herschel Dyer and a cousin, John Wimpey, had seen the fabulous machine. And both of them were truthful men. They would not tell a lie.

And so the legend stayed alive, passed down from generation to generation. Many had a share in perpetuating the legend, among whom were Watson Benjamin Dyer who wrote about it in his first edition of “Dyer Family History” published in 1967, and his subsequent edition in 1980.

In 1980, a great, great great grandson of Clark Dyer, Kenneth Akins, did much research on the Dyer legend, and found, with the help of historian Robert Davis, that several credible people whom they interviewed were convinced that the story of Clark Dyer’s flying machine was more than legend, that the flying machine had indeed been invented.

Persistence often results in bringing major rewards. Sylvia Dyer Turnage herself, taken by the story of her ancestor’s exploits, wrote and published in 1994 a book entitled The Legend of Clark Dyer’s Flying Machine. In the book, she told what she then knew of the story. Included was a poem she entitled “Ode to Clark Dyer,” which was set to music and sung by her (and perhaps others) at Dyer family reunions, gatherings and anyplace an interest was shown in this nineteenth century farmer-inventor’s life story.

Finally the breakthrough came that proved a remarkable boon and proof that the legend was indeed fact. In late 2004, two others of Clark Dyer’s descendants, great, great great grandsons Stephen and Joey Dyer, brothers, found a patent online at the US Patent and Copyright Office, Patent No. 154,654, dated September 1, 1874. Entitled “An Apparatus for Navigating the Air,” it was signed by M. C. Dyer! Was this maybe the ancestor whom they had heard invented a plane near Rattlesnake Mountain in the 1870’s?

Indeed it was! In addition to the patent, the young men found copies of newspaper articles from “The St. Louis Globe Democrat” (July 31, 1875) and “The Eagle” (Gainesville, GA, July 31, 1875) that told of M. C. Dyer of Blairsville, who had “been studying the subject of air navigation for thirty years,” and was eager to construct the machine and “board the ship and commit himself to the wind.”

Then, with proof in hand, copies of the patent, and a proposed resolution introduced to the Georgia Legislature by then representative Charles F. Jenkins of Blairsville, a fitting memorial was in order for the mountain genius whose work had predated the Wright brothers. Georgia Highway 180 from US Highway 129/19 to the Brasstown Bald Mountain Spur was named “The Micajah Clark Dyer Parkway” to honor this pioneer aviator who worked so diligently to bring his dream to fruition. In a touching and meaningful ceremony at the Dyer-Souther Heritage Association Reunion on July 15, 2006, before a crowd of more than 300 descendants and interested citizens, the road sign was unveiled and the road dedicated to the inventor. That was an auspicious day, indeed, but it wasn’t the end of the story or the celebration.

Since then, the Clark Dyer Foundation has been formed. His gravesite in Old Choestoe Cemetery has been restored and a more suitable monument erected giving credit to his work as an inventor. Numerous programs have been held to tell “The Clark Dyer Story.”

And in this newest book from author Sylvia Dyer Turnage’s pen, the story from legend to reality, from word-of-mouth to printed proof, from theory to the actual patent, are collected for us to enjoy.

Sylvia’s immediate family all played a vital role in the production of this lovely, “coffee table” quality book. She, being the writer in her family, wrote the manuscript of the book. Her husband, Billy Turnage, a photographer by hobby but also by expertise, made exquisite photographs of the history of bringing to light the real story of Micajah Clark Dyer. These are included in the book, in full color. Her daughter, Karen Dyer Merrill of California designed the book’s cover and assisted in the proofreading and editorial production of the book. Her son, Andrew Turnage, set up and maintains the Micajah Clark Dyer website which any interested persons can access. He also helped to found the Micajah Clark Dyer Foundation, the goals of which are listed in the book on pages 35-36. He also assisted with the production of the book. Yee Yee, Sylvia’s delightful daughter-in-law, and wife of Andrew, who, by carefully reading the description in Clark’s patent, made the first interpretive drawing of the flying machine.

The book, authored by Sylvia Dyer Turnage, poet, author, speaker, accountant (retired), and assisted by her immediate family, has been a labor of love in memory of that beloved great, great grandfather who saw the birds flying over the mountains of Choestoe and wondered, “Why can’t I, too, fly?”

Search out how you might purchase a copy for yourself by checking at your local book store, online at micajahclarkdyer.org, or contacting Sylvia at her own Turnage Publishing Co., Inc. 805 Low Gap Road, Blairsville, GA 30512.

Congratulations to Sylvia and her family for this addition to the corpus of county history, family history, and history in general. She uses this appropriate quotation from Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. on the back cover of her book: “Man’s mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.” Micajah Clark Dyer’s mind was indeed “stretched by a new idea.” And look what happened.

'Driving: A Right of Passage': A Book Review

A beautiful and accomplished lady named Margaret Harkins Patterson, R. N., retired, who happens to be descended from the Nix and Harkins (and other) early-settler families of Union County, Georgia, has written a delightful book entitled Driving: A Right of Passage.

Margaret Harkins Patterson (on left), author of Driving: A Right of Passage, with her first cousin, Roma Sue Turner Collins at the July 18, 2009, Dyer-Souther Heritage Association Reunion. Both are descendants of the Nix, Dyer, Harkins, Collins, Turner, Souther and other pioneer settlers of Union County, Georgia.

I wish I had owned a copy of the book back when my husband Grover and I (together with help from their high school driving instruction coaches then) were teaching our own children, Keith and Cynthia, how to be safe, responsible teen-age drivers. It would have helped tremendously to have handed them Margaret’s helpful book and said to them: “Read this. And when you know what she teaches you through this book, and when we think you can drive safely, we will take you to get your driver’s license.” But the book wasn’t available then. It was published only in 2008, a gift of Margaret to her five children, her ten grandchildren and her (then) two great-grandchildren (and any more to come!).

Now that such a book is available, may I suggest that, if you who read this and are training teen-age drivers, you should go to Amazon.com and/or maybe the Book Nook bookstore in Blairsville, and preview a copy of this book and think about purchasing it for your own teenage driver. Better still, consider it as a gift to your grandchild who may be about to launch upon “Driving: A Right of Passage.”

First, something about the author herself. She is a descendant of John Grancer Nix, born about 1761 in Edgefield, South Carolina, who lived to be 107 years old and died about 1867 or 1868. I won’t repeat his wonderful descendancy in full here, for I’ve written about him and families in that lineage in previous “Through Mountain Mists” columns when I was writing a series about the Nix families in our midst.

But, closer in Margaret Harkins Patterson’s Nix line, she was a daughter of Maver Nix Harkins and General Pat Harkins. Her grandparents in the Nix line were John Washington Nix and Catherine Clarinda Dyer Nix who had children Harvey; Dora Lou (who married Franklin Hedden Dyer); Nola (Magnola, who married John Jarrett Turner); Mary Elizabeth and Martha L., twins, who died as infants; Joseph Spencer (who married Doris E. Nix and Cathryn Clark Birgel); Roy Walter (who married Idell Nelson); Maver Clarenda (Margaret’s mother, who married General Pat Harkins and second, Edward Collins); Howard Benson (who married Ellen Erwin); Florida Lee (who married Carlos Turner); and Cleo Inez (who married Rouse King). Margaret Harkins Patterson is justifiably proud of her ancestors who number among teachers, housewives, farmers, businessmen, and patriotic citizens, as well as those who have served (and many who are still serving) admirably in various walks of life.

And now, to get to a brief review of her wonderful book, “Driving: A Right of Passage (c2008 Xlibris Corporation), Margaret gives this reason for writing the book:

“My goal is to keep you out of the ditch, out of the tree, the river…and the morgue. Get the picture? I will teach you to drive safely and successfully and you will enjoy the process” (from “Prologue”, p. 9).

Margaret remembers great times with her father, Pat Harkins, who taught her much about cars and driving. From him she learned how an automobile works and how to make minor repairs, how to be a safe and sane driver, and how to respect “the right of passage” from being merely a passenger to being the responsible person behind the wheel. She pays tribute to Pat Harkins, her father: “My father taught me to drive. I began at the tender age of six when the speed limit was 50 or under…We lived in the country—dirt roads—quarter-mile driveway—perfect. I sat on my father’s lap in our ’38 Ford sedan. My job was to steer. He handled the gas, clutch, gears and brake. He never touched the wheel, but would stop the car if I screamed loudly enough. I learned a lot about steering the car. I was driving a tractor at age twelve and I never plowed up a row of corn!...The key word here is ‘practice.’ Practice is essential to ‘knowing your car’ ” (p. 20).

Giving a humorous and very readable account of how a teenager reaches and goes through driving, “the right of passage,” author Margaret Harkins Patterson gives in very personable terms how important driver education is to the teenage driver, a brief history of the automobile, how important it is to know a car—inside and out—under the hood and what to expect from the mechanical operation of a car, driving etiquette, how to handle hazardous driving situations, how to get the best insurance, and how to follow the rules of the road. This is a common-sense manual on driving. She gives her account in such a warm and interesting manner that reading the 90 pages and having the handy index for reference is like having a personal driving manual at your fingertips.

To make her book more appealing, Margaret illustrated it herself with her own art work, complemented with computer images to highlight and emphasize certain vital points of driving and knowing an automobile.

I highly recommend Margaret’s book for those beginning to drive as well as “old pros” who may have driven for half a century or more. She reminds us that automobile accidents are the number one killer of teenagers. We as adults have a responsibility to teach youth how to be safe on the roads, how to maintain a vehicle, and how we can contribute to safety and to the egosystem by knowing how to drive well and keep a vehicle road-worthy and environmentally-safe.

I am glad I know Margaret Harkins Patterson. I am glad that back in our plethora of ancestors our family lines converge, and we can claim some bit of kinship in family, principles and purposes for living. Why don’t you examine Margaret’s book and get a copy for your favorite teenage driver? You’ll be glad you did.

Reece Family Afterthoughts (Part 7 in Reece Family Series)

To Bobby Josiah Queen, current citizen of Union County and a person vitally interested in family roots, thank you for the volume of information you sent me on the Reece families in Union County.

This entry, at least temporarily, will wrap up my articles on the Reece family. Enough remains, untouched, from what Bobby sent, that could make a good-sized book. I was not surprised at how, from the earliest Reece settlers to Union County through marriages, many prominent last names show the relationship of this family to subsequent generations.

And so it is, in general. We “live and move and have our being.” Each generation leaves its mark, a circle in time, some work, some monument of service, some contribution to add to the corpus of knowledge or achievement. Or, alas, if we lack motivation and desire to contribute in a worthwhile manner to the good of all, our record can mar as well as help.

We can aspire to do as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) wrote in his great poem, “A Psalm of Life”:

“Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.”

I was interested, for example, in seeing how Bobby Josiah Queen himself lay in the line of Reece descendants. He got his second name from his grandfather, Eli Josiah Reece (04.02.1878), son of Quiller Frank and Elizabeth Clarica Adelia Logan Reece. Eli Josiah Reece was the sixth of sixteen children born to Quiller and Eliza. And Quller Frank, as you recall, was a son of William “Billy” Reece and Mary Daniel Reece. Uncle Billy Reece mined gold from the creekbed of Helton Falls Creek and hauled it to the Dahlonega Mint for processing.

Bobby’s mother was Nora Elizabeth Reece (11.08.1907) a daughter of Eli Joseph Reece. To them were born four children, Carl Winford Queen, Durwood Norris Queen, Bobby Josiah Queen, and Frances Louella Queen. I won’t attempt to trace the marriages and descendants of these Reece kin. Bobby Josiah Queen followed in the footsteps of several of his ancestors and gave patriotic service in the U. S. Marines and the Coast Guard. He married Carmela Rinaldi. He chose to return to his beloved Union County after his service years.

And looking through the many names of Reece descendants, I noted with great interest that my high school classmate, Elbert Dennis Wilson, now of Michigan, is also a descendant of Eli Josiah Reece and Sallie Lou Ella Stephens Reece. Elbert’s mother was Mary Eliza Reece (11.20.1901), daughter of Eli Josiah. Mary Eliza married Abraham Lincoln Wilson and Elbert was their fourth of nine children. Isn’t it strange that as high school students we hardly gave a thought to our genealogy? Then we did not know, somehow, that grandparents and great grandparents were important to our history. We failed to sit at their feet, hear their stories, and record them while these noble people were alive and could enlighten us on who begat whom and what they did in the hills and valleys of Union County.

Going back to William “Billy” Reece and his wife Mary Daniel Reece, I note that their daughter, Margaret Louise Reece (08.16.1856 – 06.20.1941) married John Spiva (04.22.1851 – 11.28.1933). To this couple were born Mary Jane, Eliza, Minty Caroline, Henry W., Emma, Frank, Jewell W., Gardner C., Josiah H., and Guy Cook Spiva. This family link opened up another avenue of genealogical lines back to the original Reece settlers in Union County. These, too, would make another book, and my friend, Geraldine Spiva Elmore has done much to preserve the Spiva legacy in her research and writings. Thank you, Geraldine.

This brief overview only partially covers the links and names going back to “Billy” Reece and his children. But last, and not least, I want to pay tribute to the last-born of Quiller Frank and Elizabeth Logan Reece’s children, Alice Elizabeth Louise Reece (01.23.1893), who married Olin Hayes. Her great niece, Esther Minerva Clouse Cunningham (daughter of Nellie Caroline Reece and Zeb Clouse) wrote of her great aunt Alice Hayes:

“I remember Aunt Alice Reece Hayes. She was my grandfather’s youngest sibling. She stayed at home and took care of her parents (Quiller Frank and Elizabeth) until they died. She married late in life and never had any children. I think she felt her responsibility to keep her parents’ family united. When my grandma “Roxie” (Roxie Potts Reece, wife of William Drury Reece, firstborn son of Quiller Frank) was sick and dying, Aunt Alice and her husband, Olin Hayes, came. I brought them to my house to spend the night because my Aunt Kate was caring for her parents.” And so went this testimony of Esther Cunningham, who remembered her Great Aunt Alice as a “keeper of the family history.”

To Bobby Josiah Queen, thank you for these and other great stories of the Reece Family in Union County. I leave this family saga now, not because the story is finished by any means, but because it is too large for inclusion in sketchy columns in a weekly newspaper. For those of you, like Alice Reece Hayes, who want to be “keepers of the family history,” learn your stories and record them. You will be glad you did. Much for posterity hangs in the balance of our finding and recording the stories. “Lives of great men (and women) all remind us” even now to catch a glimpse of the sublime in the lives of others who made a difference.

Two Byron Herbert Reece Poems (Reece Family Series, Part 6)

Last week’s column gave a summary of the family of Juan Wellborn and Emma Lance Reece. Their son, Byron Herbert Reece (1917-1958) became the famous poet and novelist we are hearing more about recently as we through the Byron Herbert Reece Society seek to perpetuate his memory and his works.

Let’s take some “time-out” to enjoy a bit of his inimitable poetry. Think of relaxing by your fire or under a warm blanket during these cold days and read with meaning and absorption. I offer first:

In the Far Dark Woods Go Roving

Whenever the heart’s in trouble
Caught in the snare of years,
And the sum of tears is double
The amount of youthful tears,

In the far, dark woods go roving
And find there to match your mood
A kindred spirit moving
Where the wild winds blow in the wood.

This poem was published in Bow Down in Jericho, 1950.

The mind is a remarkable organ of the body. When troubles perplex and answers seem absent, when one is “caught in the snare of years,” there is a quick escape. This poem describes in brief but exceptionally crafted lines how this escape is possible.

Just think of another, more pleasant purview. Since Poet Reece loved the woods, nature and everything about his mountain environment, he would think of the “far, dark woods” where he had walked and meditated. They weren’t really that far away. Just a thought away. And so it is with us. It’s not that we shirk from the troubles we might be facing. Instead, a brief refreshment, even in the mind’s eye, can bring release and restoration. Try replacing the “Far Dark Wood” (which might seem foreboding to you) with your own favorite resting place. You will be surprised how much the recollection will aid your ailing spirit.

Another poem, “The Speechless Kingdom,” also published in his 1950 Bow Down in Jericho collection, seems, to me, to be stating his purposes for writing. When I lead a writers’ workshop or speak to a group on the poetry of Reece, I always read this poem as his statement of purpose for writing. What a calling he had, and how well he fulfilled it in his gift of poetry to us:

The Speechless Kingdom

Unto a speechless kingdom I
Have pledged my tongue, I have given my word
To make the centuries-silent sky
As vocal as a bird.

The stone that aeons-long was held
As mute through me has cried aloud
Against its being bound, has spelled
Its boredom to a crowd

Of trees that leaned down low to hear
One with complaint so like their own
--I being to the trees and ear
And tongue to the mute stone.

And I being pledged to fashion speech
For all the speechless joy to find
The wonderful words that each to each
They utter in my mind.

I cannot add an iota or even a thought to such a proclamation of purpose for the poet. To be the voice, the tongue for “a speechless kingdom,” the “ear to trees,” the “tongue to mute stone.” And, furthermore to be able to “fashion speech” so that the very stones can cry out, the trees can register their voice, the skies stretched in silence above are heard through his poetry! What a gift, and how well he executed his gift, his calling to allow us to see in new and vibrant ways the “Speechless Kingdom” for whom he spoke. I need space to point out metaphor, simile, personification, rhyme, rhythm, other poetic elements he employed with such expertise. But if you are one who likes to pursue poetry on your own, I ask you to go back and reread each of the poems, absorbing all the nuances of excellent poetry you find in these two offerings from Reece.

The Reece family has a long and rich heritage in America, Wales and England as we’ve seen by previous articles. Through the words of one of them, Byron Herbert Reece, mountain farmer, poet and novelist, we are able to look at the things he wrote about in a different and more lucent light. The speechless speak through his words.

We are rich, indeed, because he wrote.

Reece Family in Union County, GA (part 5): The Family of Byron Herbert Reece, Poet and Novelist

Juan Wellborn Reece and Hannah Emma Lou Lance Reece Family, about 1925. On Emma's lap is Emma Jean Reece (b. March 29, 1923). Standing, left to right, are Eva Mae Reece (b. August 25, 1911); Byron Herbert Reece (b. September 14, 1917); Thomas James "T. J." Reece (b. July 30, 1915); Nina Kate Reece (b. June 15, 1914.) The youngest child in the Reece family, Alwayne Reece (May 16, 1908-June 15, 1909) died at age 13 months from miningitis.

(Picture, compliments of Pauline Bryan, Cleveland, GA, widow of Jimmy Bryan, first cousin of the poet. Jimmy was a son of Mrs. Emma Lance Reece's sister, Eula Lance Bryan. This and other valuable Reece family pictures were in Mrs. Eula Bryan's collection, and passed on to her son, Jimmy.)

By brief recapitulation from last week’s column, and continuing the saga of the Reece family in Union County, let me review by listing again the seven known generations in America of poet/novelist Byron Herbert Reece (1917-1958):

(1) William Reece (wife Mary, maiden name unknown)
(2) Valentine (called “Fella”) Reece (wife Christina Harmon Reece)
(3) Jacob Reece (wife Susannah “Hannah” Silvers Reece)
(4) John Reece (wife Mary Anderson Reece)
(5) Simpson Reece (wife Emmaline Sampson Reece)
(6) Juan Wellborn Reece (wife Hannah Emma Lou Lance Reece)
(7) Byron Herbert Reece (poet and novelist, never married)

Since our place of birth and time of birth are out of our hands, we become a “citizen,” (as Byron Herbert Reece liked to refer in his poetry to persons in residence here upon earth) of wherever we are when our earthly parents welcome us into their household. And this baby was born in a log cabin that had been on his maternal side of the family—the Lances—for a long time. The cabin in 1917 stood about in the middle of where Lake Trahlyta at Vogel State Park, in the shadow of Blood Mountain, is now located. The baby’s great grandfather, John Reece, was an early settler of the county and had been listed in the 1834 Union County census.

Byron Herbert Reece was born September 14, 1917 into the household of Juan Wellborn Reece and Emma Lance Reece. Already born into the Reece household were these siblings of the future poet: Sister Alwayne Reece, born May 16, 1908, died of meningitis June 15, 1909 at age thirteen months. Her gravestone in the Old Salem cemetery in Union County reads “Waynie,” her nickname. She was buried near her maternal great grandparents, the Rev. John H. Lance (1834-1888, killed by moonshiners) and his wife, her maternal great grandmother, Caroline T. Lance (1842-1916). So the poet never met this older sister, “Waynie,” who died eight years before he was born.

Sister Eva Mae Reece, born August 25, 1911, grew up to become a teacher; she never married. She lived at home and taught mainly at local schools near the Reece home. She was present to assist poet Reece later in the care of their parents (and the poet himself), all of whom contracted dread tuberculosis, a disease that seemed to plague this particular family of Reeces.

Sister Nina Kate Reece, born June 15, 1914, married in 1934 and moved away to North Carolina. This writer needs to do more research on Kate’s family and learn the name of her husband and children, for I seem to recall that she did have a family. Kate’s family was not listed in the Reece sources I’m using for this series.

The poet’s brother, Thomas James, known by his initials, T. J., was born July 30, 1915 and died November 11, 1989. He married a neighbor young lady, Lorena Duckworth, in 1939. T. J. joined the Civilian Conservation Corps when that work group was formed by then-president Franklin Delano Roosevelt. After T. J. and Lorena married, they lived in various places in the United States as T. J. followed jobs. But then they came back to Union County and settled on Lorena’s family homeplace and reared their family near her aging parents and his aging parents. T. J. and Lorena had four children, Tommy, (named after his father, T. J.), June, Terry and Connie.

Byron Herbert Reece was next in line of the five Reece siblings. When asked if he was named for the famous English poets, Lord Byron and George Herbert, he laughingly told his inquirer that he was named for Byron Mitchell, a hog-trader from Gainesville, Georgia, who stopped by the Reece farm to dicker about hog sales, and for Herbert Tabor, an insurance salesman, who also was an acquaintance of the Reece family.

The youngest of the Reece siblings, the poet’s sister, Emma Jean Reece, was born March 19, 1923. She grew up to be a beauty, and met a young man in the Civilian Conservation Corps who was stationed at the present Goose Creek location when a CCC Camp operated there. His name was Thomas Daniel Rispoli and his home state was New York. Jean and Thomas Daniel were married in a lovely ceremony in New York. He served our country admirably during World War II and lost his life in that conflict. Jean Reece Rispoli and Thomas Daniel Rispoli had one child, Patricia Katherine Rispoli. After Thomas’s death, Jean and her baby, called “Patti,” returned to Blairsville, where they lived. Existing pictures of Juan and Emma Reece welcoming their little granddaughter “Patti,” and her mother, their daughter Jean, after the soldier’s death, are touching, indeed.

Life proceeded as it did in most every farm home in Choestoe as Byron Herbert Reece was growing up. There were not a lot of this world’s goods to enjoy, but the Reece’s well knew how to “make do,” and live frugally on what the narrow patches of their farm along Wolf Creek yielded. Though poor in property and money, they had a super-abundance of love. The five surviving Reece children were tutored from an early age by their mother Emma, even before they were old enough to walk the four miles to nearby Choestoe school where they were instructed in grades Primer through Seventh Grade before going on to Union County High School at Blairsville, the county seat town some ten miles north of the Reece home. Mrs. Emma and Mr. Juan, well-grounded in the Christian faith, had daily devotionals, reading to their children from the King James Version of the Bible. They didn’t have many books in their household, but those they owned, and the local newspaper and “The Progressive Farmer” magazine were read avidly. It is said that young Byron Herbert, by now called “Hub” for short, could read from the Bible and John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress before he entered Choestoe School in the Primer/First Grade class. It was from this home training that he began to fall in love with the rhythms of the English language that he would later use so effectively in his ballads, in particular, and in his sonnets and lyrical poetry.

I grew up Baptist, going to Choestoe Baptist Church. The Reece family was Methodists, members of Salem Methodist Church in the same community. Each of these churches was what we called “part-time.” That is, we only had preaching two Sundays each month, but Sunday School every Sunday. It was our habit for members of one congregation to go to the other church, for in that way, we could attend “preaching” every Sunday. It was at Salem Church that I heard Byron Herbert Reece, an approved lay preacher in the Methodist Church, teach and preach some Sundays if inclement weather prevented his own pastor from getting to Salem. So I was privileged, too, to hear the poet as preacher at times. And I treasure those memories of him as well.

The space for this account does not allow all the remembrances, as a neighbor to the Reece family, that I could recount of his life and times, and of his beloved family. But in the home of this humble, unassuming, hard-working, God-fearing potential poet were established many of the characteristics Reece portrayed in his life and work. He had a strong work ethic, borne of hard times and emulated by him in what he saw in his parents.

His poems began to be published in the 1930’s. Then his book, Ballad of the Bones and Other Poems was released in 1945 by E. P. Dutton, New York. Reviews and news frequently published in “The Atlanta Constitution” that came daily to my house when I was growing up in the same community with Reece, led us, his neighbors (at least in the Dyer household) to be amazed that our neighbor farmer/teacher had turned poet and was recognized on a national level.

When the poet met death at his own hand June 3, 1958, after much illness from tuberculosis and deep depression, I was devastated when I heard the news. For months I thought that if I had been able just to talk with him before the tragedy, perhaps I could have said something to turn the tide of his intentions to take his own life. His death certainly diminished me. I have been his admirer, a student of his inimitable prose and lofty verse, and a pursuer of “all things Reece” since, when I was 15, my teacher, Mrs. Grapelle Mock, took me to interview Reece for a column I wrote then for the school page in the local paper. I began to really aspire to follow in his footsteps as a writer. I had neither the inherent talent, expertise with language, nor ability to capture thoughts “from airy nothingness” as Reece did. But he was then and is, even to this day, my mentor, my literary hero, and my one-time mountain neighbor and friend. And I am richer, much richer, because of this association with Byron Herbert Reece (1917-1958), poet.

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