Memory Lane
NEWEST STORIES ADDED AT THE BOTTOM OF PAGE!
On this page, we will publish stories or memories of people from Grundy County. Send your stories/memories to Janelle.
MEMORIES FROM MY FATHER
My father, Edward Price Smith was born November 1, 1916 in a lumber camp at Skymont located in Grundy County Tennessee. He was born to John (Jesse) Edward Smith and Katie Lee Killian who lived in a two-roomed tent with wooden floors. John was recruited from Mississippi where he worked for a railroad timber company as a sawright (saw filer). He was born to John J. Smith and Susan Etheridge May 11, 1877 in Stewart County Tennessee. He first married in Stewart County and later divorced when he moved to Grundy County somewhere between 1910 and 1914. It was at this time that he changed his name from John to Jesse but was called Edd. In 1914 he married Katie daughter of Jeremiah D. Killian and Lennie Lee Ware. Jeremiah was a Confederate Soldier and was the son of one of the founding fathers of Grundy County, Ambrose Killian. Lennie Lee was the daughter of William Washington Ware, a teacher, and Mary Catherine Argo, also from Grundy County.
Skymont, at the time of my father's birth, was remote with one of the main products being its abundant hard wood trees. Timber men had long tried to find a way to profitably harvest these trees but the rough terrain was not suitable for the usual method of bringing the logs to the mill operation. One Clarence McGee?? opted for a mobile sawmill. He would take the sawmill to the timber. This made it much easier for the woodsman to harvest timber that had been unavailable previously. He owned the timber rights to a very large area around Skymont and his mill hands had to adapt to the life of a mobile camp. He also knew that the two most important employees at the sawmill were the sawyer and the sawright (saw filer). He traveled far to find persons who possessed the best skills for his mills.
The living quarters were primitive, even for the times. The tents were usually two-roomed, for families, or single-room for the single hands. The floors were made of rough wood connected in such a way that they could be very quickly broken down and loaded onto a wagon for movement to another mill site. One room served as a bedroom while the other served all the additional needs. In these camps, there was no running water except springs and small wood stoves were used to cook meals. There were always lots of snakes under the floor and throughout the camp area. A provision wagon would bring supplies to the camp once a week. Other meals consisted of deer, squirrel or other wild game that each family could supply. Life was very hard, especially for the women and children of the camps. A few days after the birth of my father, a physician from Pelham visited the camp and checked on the condition of the baby and the mother. I have heard many stories from my grandfather about the hunting prowess of his dog Lady and how he went hunting with an axe. When the dog treed the squirrel, he would cut the tree and the dog would catch the squirrel as it came out of its hole. He said that he didn't have enough money to purchase shells for his shotgun.
Katie Lee died about six months after the birth of her daughter in 1921. She was 23. The cause of death was appendicitis. Dad was sent to live with his grandmother, Linnie Lee Killian, and his sister Delma to Katie's sister, Lula Grace Killian Powell. John (Jesse) then married Nannie Hobbs and they started their family of four. John (Jesse) now lived in a house in Coalmont. He died in 1966.
The ardent hardships of our forefathers are in stark contrast to that in which we now experience. This group of poverty stricken, outdoors hardened and independent natured people left us a legacy of lives lived without the trappings of convenience we now take for granted. It is only through the memories of the elders who were there that we are able to experience second or third-handedly the essence of those hardy souls.
Now that I have found the location of Skymont, I plan to take my father to see the area in which he was born. The exact spot would be impossible to find but we might guess where the most convenient place for a sawmill in each little area might be located. My grandfather and his family are not found on the Grundy County 1920 census to which I would attribute to the remoteness and fluidity of the saw camps.
Dr. Ron Smith
This article about Marshall Winton was sent in by Janelle Taylor. There was no indication on the date that this article was written or which newspaper that it came from.
This picture of the last graduating class from Pelham School was sent in by Janelle Taylor. There was no indication on when this photo was published or in which newspaper.
These kids are from Valley Home. No indication on when this picture was taken. They are from left to right: Jack Jacobs, Frank Parks, Maxine Partin, Juanita Layne, Edmond “Felix” Parsons, Raymond Hardy and Henrietta Ray standing.
PALMER CLINIC ANNIVERSARY
By David Patton
The Palmer Clinic on Hwy. 108 next to the First Baptist Church of Palmer marks 50 years of service to the area this Labor Day (2006).
According to newspaper accounts of the Day, the Tennessee Consolidated Coal Company and the United Mine Workers of America (U.M.W.A.) led the effort with the money and materials and mobilized local miners and others who donated building skills to make the much-needed facility a reality with the Grand Opening on Labor Day 1956.
Dr. Walter Huling moved his family to Palmer that year after the area had been without a full time physician since Dr. Oscar Howell Clements closed his well known Clements Clinic in 1948 and moved his pratice to Chattanooga. Dr. Walter Huling faithfully served the medical needs of the people until about 1977-78 when illness forced his retirement and subsequent death in the summer of 1979.
In late 1980, Dr. Vin Paul Hua, a native of China, came to Palmer, and preparations were made to re-open the clinic, which officially welcomed back patients in January 1981.
For over a quarter-century, Dr. Hua has served the medical needs of the Palmer area, and in 2005 was honored by the Grundy County Chamber of Commerce with a “Distinguished Citizen” plaque in recognition of his tenure as the longest serving physician in Palmer’s history.
Dr. David Bryan, a cousin of Mrs. Hattie Hampton Swann, was Palmer’s first physician and was followed by Dr. C.W. Hembree and Dr. William Perry Stone. Dr. Stone was the father of Mrs. Everett B. Roberts, Sr., who was known state wide for her work in the P.T.A. where she served as the Tennessee State President in the early 1950’s.
One of the most beloved physicians in Palmer’s history was Dr. Oscar Howell Clements, who came here from Georgia to be the staff doctor at the CCC Camp on Palmer Mountain.
The people of Palmer got to know Dr. Clements in that role and persuaded him to move down into Palmer and become the town doctor. He served from 1933-1948, which included the hard years of the Great Depression and World War II. He was known for his
compassion toward his patients and for making house calls in all kinds of weather and at all hours of the night. As the late Mrs. Horace Moore, Sr. told me, “Dr. Clements was not only a good doctor; he was a good man.”
Dr. Clements delivered many babies at this Clements Clinic, which was located behind the old Palmer Theater. He delivered many others in the mothers’ homes and even today you’ll find names like “Oscar Howell” Mc Daniel and “Oscar Howell” (Harold) James, who were named for this good man as was the late Bobby Howell Rollins. Dr. Clements’ oldest son, Howell Gilbert, is a Chattanooga attorney, and his youngest son, Joel, is a physician in Chattanooga.
Others known to have practice medicine briefly in Palmer were Dr. Thomas Ray Mosley and a Dr. Shackleford.
David Patton
Palmer Town Historian
PAPA'S HUPP (photo below)
Written by Ernest M. Cheek (Submitted by Jack Baggenstoss)
In 1933 John W. Berry of Tracy City, Tennessee, purchased a new 1933 Hupmobile from Crescent Motor Company on 528 Broad Street in Chattanooga, TN. On August 29, 1990, Ernest M. Cheek of Sparta, TN, bought a 1933 Hupmobile from Edward Congleton in Champaign, Illinois. There is nothing significant about these persons, places, dates or purchases unless one knows that Ernest M. Cheek is the great-grandson of John W. Berry, and the 1933 Hupmobile purchased by Ernest M. Cheek in 1990 is the same Hupmobile purchased by John Berry in 1933. The age-old story of “the car” ones parents or grandparents once owned seldom has a happy ending. The usual story is that it was sold for a small price never to be seen again or left to rust away behind the barn. Fortunately for me, my story has the happiest of all endings. I now own “the car” my great grandfather purchased new.
My great grandfather, known within the family as Papa Berry, never learned to drive, but wanted a vehicle so he would only have to borrow a driver. He lived with his daughter and son-in-law who owned a car, so the Hupp was used only for special trips rather than for daily use.
The car developed some mechanical problems in 1936, the same year Papa died. The Hupp stayed in its garage until 1954 when my grandmother sold the Hupp to a traveling salesman from Chattanooga, TN. The purchase price for the 27,000 mile car was $100.
I had hoped during my early teen years to own the Hupp and had on occasions aired the tires and washed away the dust. When the Crosley I was driving needed a horn, I “borrowed” one from the Hupp. Also “borrowed” was the gearshift knob and one windshield wiper. Although I regret these items stayed with the Crosley when sold, these missing items would assist me later in positively identifying the Hupp. Around 1969 while reading my Hemmings, I noticed a four door Hupp for sale in Chattanooga. I called the owner Hugh Lifsey, whom I learned was not the one who purchased the Hupp form my grandmother. He had purchased it from the traveling salesman. (This salesman’s name is the only owner’s name lost during the Hupp’s journey.) Mr. Lifsey stated that the car was 100 percent original. When I challenged this statement and told him it had a horn and wiper missing—he left the phone to look at the car and returned to state that I was correct- but how did I know? I went to Chattanooga to look at the Hupp, but we were unable to agree on terms, so I left without her.
In 1985 I again developed an interest in locating Papa’s Hupp and began reading the “H” for sale listings. Several calls were made and many leads followed, but none were successful. Someone suggested I call Don Roetman and place and ad in the Hupp Parts Locator newsletter. With the information I had, which was as follows: the last known owner Hugh Lifsey of Chattanooga, low mileage, dual side mounts with wooden spoke wheels, I called Don, and he agreed to plead my case. In September of 1987, I received a letter from Edward Congelton of Champaign, IL, who stated he owned a Hupp, which fit my description, and in the papers he acquired with the car was evidence that Hugh Lifsey once owned it. I immediately called Ed and was convinced he had Papa’s Hupp. Ed had purchased the car from Dr. Glen Stockwell of Sheffield, AL. A call to Dr. Stockwell confirmed the car had come to Glen from Hugh. Ed and I visited each other during the next three years, and I purchased the Hupp in August of 1990 for $14,000. The car was driven from Champaign to Nashville where I began to experience vapor lock in the 100-degree temperature, so I trailered the car the last 75 miles to Sparta, TN, where I now live. In the spring of 1998 while returning from Nashville, the Hupp developed a rod knock, which required removing the engine for repair. My good friend Jim Sutcliffe suggested that since we had also removed the hood that we repair and repaint it. That led to the suggestion that we also paint the fenders, which eventually led to a complete body restoration, which was new upholstery, new paint, new chrome and new class all completed within 18 months by working nights and Saturdays from my backyard garage.
The Hupp at this writing in August 2004 has 48,000 miles, is a very comfortable ride and is used in several weddings each year to transport the bride and groom from church to reception, etc. After being out of the family from 1954-1990, I am pleased to have regained ownership and plan to pass ownership to our son John Wilson Cheek, great-great grandson of John W. Berry original owner.
LIFE IN PELHAM VALLEY IN THE 1950'S
By Barbara Mooney Myers
In the early 1950’s I was a teenager yet had met a guy from Pelham, TN. I knew that I would marry him in time, and on May 30, 1952, we were married and moved to Pelham, TN to live where all Burnice Myers’ family was from. His grandparents, Lonnie and Alice Myers and his father Floyd lived in between Pelham, Payne’s Cove, and Burrows’ Cove. There were cousins, aunts & uncles all over the Valley. His mother Elloise Myers Murphy and his stepfather, Ernie Murphy lived in Hillsboro, where he was a farmer.
There were little crooks and crannies everywhere in the Valley and a little home or farm tucked in here and there. The first place we lived was Smith Hollow or as a lot of folks called it, Rattle Snake Hollow. In warm weather, it was covered with rattlesnakes. Some coiled up on the rocks getting the sunshine. Others stretched out on the sand roads that went out to the main road. I’d keep a close watch for snakes when I was outside. I wasn’t very fond of those creatures! I’d go so far as to say I was AFRAID of them. Our home was a little four-roomed house hidden next to the mountains and on one side by the barn was a large cave. We got all our drinking water from it. We had a wooden box to keep our butter and milk in. It sat chained to a large rock right near the opening of the cave. We had a lot of walking space here and room to tend land.
Burnice farmed the empty fields to grow crops of corn and soybeans, and we made a fine garden in the spring. I’d can up ever jar I could afford to buy or get from someone who was not using all theirs. I’d can pickles, tomatoes, squash, okra, beans, crowder peas, kraut, hot peppers, chow-chow, corn, jams and jellies. I picked blackberries in the outer fields near by as well as peaches and apples if I had a chance to get them someplace. The Hollow was a lonesome place to be when the cold winters came. I spent a lot of time there indoors where I cooked, sewed, and kept house. Burnice sometimes worked at sawmills or at logging, or occasionally at a service station in the winter since he couldn’t farm. He and his dad, Floyd, would go to the mountains up from us to hunt. Lots of times, they’d come home with a tow sack full of squirrels or rabbits. They’d skin them, and I’d wash and cut them up for a hot meal. Then I’d fry them along with some potatoes and make gravy and biscuits. Everybody ate it all up because it was a high honor to have such a meal once in a while. Often we’d have squirrel or rabbit mulligan for the men since it was a favorite of theirs.
I didn’t always know how to cook. Burnice and Aunt Alice showed me how to make a mulligan. The first biscuits I made Burnice fed them to our dog, Old Ben, for they were hard and tough. The dog buried them in the field. After this embarrassment I learned to make good biscuits. Burnice kissed me many times over my biscuits. Each time he’d say they get better every time you cook. He’d always say, “takes a little practice to do things right, don’t it Barbara?”
We’d go out and visit his folks if we got a chance for it was a pleasure to be with Granny Alice & Papa Myers, Aunt Sula and Uncle Will Edwards, and all the others we’d see. The men would get out their musical instruments. Grandpa Lonnie played a fiddle, Floyd, a harmonica, and Burnice a guitar. We’d all gather around singing and listening to them as they played. All the Myerses were musical. It was always a joyful time for us. I’d dread going home to a lonesome old place. Yet, it was our home, and I grew to love it. We had our first daughter almost 2 years later. We named her Peggy. Burnice and Floyd were crazy over her, spoiling her by holding her all the time. Burnice would sing to her at night, and she would fall asleep on his knee.
The third year of our marriage, we moved out of Smith Hollow to G.H. Clay’s old home place near the present Cheatum Oliver Bridge. At that time we called it the upper end of Elk River. Burnice farmed G.H. and Uncle Garnett Clay’s land. There was farmland on all sides except the side that faced the coves bordered by Elk River. We had 30 cows G.H. bought to milk for local dairies. Burnice and his dad, Floyd, milked the cows mornings and nights. A local driver picked up the cans of milk to deliver them to the dairy. Burnice tended this land where he raised corn and cotton, soybeans and some tobacco. He worked from early morning until suppertime or later- until the fields were all planted. We raised chickens, some turkeys and hogs. We even had game hens and roosters. We sold eggs and vegetables in summer, eggs and pecans in the fall to Hutchinson’s Rolling Store that came around once a week. I’d trade all this for dried beans, flour, meal, coffee, salt, pepper, spices used to bake, lard, and a few other things. If I had the money every week, I’d get us a Coca Cola and put it in the icebox for a while. In the Hollow we had no electricity, but at this place we did, and we had water on the back porch.
We were thankful for the meals we sat down to eat for they would melt in your mouth. In the fall we’d kill hogs at Burnice’s stepfather, Ernie Murphy’s. His mother and I would cook a good meal for the men who had been working. We cured and salted the meat and got it ready for the winter. Elloise, Burnice’s mother, would pet the kids and load our car up with extras. Our second daughter, Sue, loved to go to her grandma’s house because she often got toys and candy.
After the hog killing, we’d go home and start grinding meat for fresh sausage and cutting up the tenderloin. I’d cook and can all this in half-gallon jars I had put back. We’d store the sugar cured and salted means in our meat room on the back porch. We ate good meals.
We stayed at home except for Saturday evenings when we visited his folks on both sides of the family. Often we’d drive to Tracy City if we had gas money to see my sister and her family. My mom, Josephine Mooney, stayed with us a lot. She helped me can and iron clothes. Lots of times though, when she’d leave we wouldn’t see her for weeks, sometimes a month. James William, my dad and my brothers, Louis & Mansel Mooney lived in Chattanooga, TN at the time. My brother Joe lived in Ohio.
In summertime we’d go to the river and fish near our house. When we were lucky enough to catch fish, we’d have a cookout on the riverbank. Burnice would play his guitar and we would have a joyful evening at home. Sometimes Floyd and G.H. and his then girlfriend, Shirley, would join us for a good meal of fresh fish. Shirley Anderson was a second cousin of mine.
Many winters after 1956 my husband would go up north to Cleveland, Ohio, and work. When spring would come, we would usually come back to Pelham. That year we moved to Payne’s Cove up a t Mr. Cheatum Oliver’s where Burnice worked for him at the sawmill. Cheatum had sons Marvin Earl, Jim, & Melvin and daughters Geneva & Joann. The boys worked right alongside their dad at the mill. By then, times were harder for us because food wasn’t nearby as it had been earlier. It was gone, and many times we sat down to a pot of pinto beans, fried taters, a big onion, and cornbread for supper. We’d sold all our chickens, turkeys, cows, and had only a few game chickens around the house, very few eggs, not like we had before. We had more gravy for breakfast than we had ever had before. We let the children have the eggs in the mornings if they didn’t choose to eat oatmeal. We at a lot of oatmeal since it was cheap and good for you. Burnice wasn’t fond of it, but he did love his gravy. When he’d kill a rabbit, we’d have it for breakfast. We sometimes went to the creek and gigged a few frogs. We would eat the legs. They were very tasty. My father-in-law caught me the first batch of frogs I ever cooked. They were so good fried up crispy with potatoes and gravy.
When we had the money, we’d buy a bushel of Irish or sweet potatoes if we didn’t raise any. If I came across an apple tree or plum tree in a field, I’d load up and bring them home to can or to make fried pies for Burnice. He loved them. With the plums, I’d make jelly. I loved plum jelly with that tangy taste it had.
When we lived at Cheatum Oliver’s old home place, we would eat supper, sit out on the porch and listen to Burnice play his guitar and sing Hank Williams’ songs. Sometimes we would sing religious songs and I would sew. I made our bed quilts to use in the winters. The girls were growing up, and they’d dance around the yard while their daddy played the music. He could out do any country music singer in the town of Nashville. Anyway, in my heart he knew how to play and sing. Often Mr. Cheatum and his boys would come over and sit on the porch, listen to Burnice, and pat their feet. His music was our only enjoyment, for we had no video or record players to listen to. On warm days I’d pick wild greens or turnip greens if a neighbor had them. They’d sure perk up the appetite for a change. Mrs. Irene Oliver sent over greens sometimes. She was a wonderful neighbor and a hard worker. The Oliver family was a fine bunch of people to live near in those days. In fact, we had many good neighbors, the Argos, Clays, Wintons, and of course, all the Myers families as well as many others who lived nearby. We spent a lot of time just sitting around talking during the cold wintertime. On Christmas, I would raid the nearby creek banks or the woods for a Christmas tree, holly and spruce for bouquets for my tables. There was only hand made decorations for the tree. No lights, but still a pretty tree. I made a wreath for the front door and sometimes for the windows.
Money was scarce sometimes, but we’d spend time with Burnice’s mom and sometimes his grandparents. Just being together and spending time was rewarding for us. Gifts were sometimes costly, yet love for our families was priceless, and meant far more. When we moved back to G.H. Clay’s for the second time where Burnice could farm the land, I missed the old Oliver home place for there was no creek nearby. When it rained the creek would rise and we’d cross over on a two-log bridge with arm rails. The girls and I would trail the creeks when they’d dry up or even wade them hunting for pretty rocks and fossils along the banks. I’d raid the open nearby fields for wild flowers. They were so beautiful. I loved flowers and the outdoor life, parading through the woods, searching for herbs. I did it as a child and it was still in me as an adult. God created this world to his likeness and it pleased me to see the beautiful things he’d put here to see.
My mother also loved the woods and wild flowers. She’d sit on a rock gazing through the open spaces just hoping she’s see the Lady Slippers in bloom in the early spring. Many times we’d go home carrying an arm full of good kindling to start the fire in the cook stove. Seems there was always a need for everything out there if we just knew how to find the use.
After we spent time in Cleveland, OH, getting back home was first choice on my list. I enjoyed taking the girls and going to the open fields where Burnice tilled and planted crops. Often I’d carry him his lunch if he was close by. I’d take him fried taters and biscuits and some tenderloin if we had it to spare. Sometimes I’d take an egg or two from the gallon that I had pickled and a jar of water with a chunk of ice. We’d visit the cemeteries in between. Those were the Goodman Cemetery in back of Aunt Hilda & Uncle Garnet Clay’s and the Solomon Sanders Cemetery there on the main Payne’s Cove road. Sometimes we’d all get on the tractor with Burnice and go to Payne’s Cove Cemetery or to Burrows’ Cove to the Sartain Cemetery or the Winton Cemetery on over in the field by a group of large oak trees. Only a few graves were there. Burnice’s uncle Edgar Myers and his wife Nell Ruth lived in Payne’s Cove.
Hilda Clay was my husband’s aunt. She was a sister to Burnice’s mother Elloise Campbell Murphy. They also had sisters, Ava, Nina, Lola, and a brother, Taft Campbell.
In the late fall, we’d gather walnuts & hickory nuts to use for baking. Often the kids would love cracking and eating them. We’d load our nail kegs with pecans to put back for the wintertime and for Christmas. From time to time Burnice would find a few chestnuts at one old home place near where we lived. We’d roast them on the fireplace. Sometimes we’d pop popcorn we had raised or roast peanuts if we had planted them. Elloise always raised peanuts, so we had some for roasting and for making chocolate fudge. It was always a treat to have plenty of nuts stored away. Eating was always better.
Pelham was a place for fine gardens, raising crops and cattle. The fields were full of fine milk cows and young calves for families to kill for beef. If we had meat, we usually had a good meal on the table. More often we had fried chicken, especially on Sunday. We had chicken for breakfast too if we had time to get them ready. It was a long process for we killed and dressed them then cut them up before we even got ready to do any cooking.
When crops came in, we were all happy to have the fresh vegetables to eat. The girls loved their corn on the cob. We all ate a lot of corn in those days. Corn was a cheap crop to raise. I’d can it in reused gallon jugs that once contained vinegar. In winter it sure tasted good on a cold day. There are so many times I remember – like my oldest daughter Peggy would beg her dad to let her ride on the tractor as he turned the soil. Many times she’d fall asleep as he finished his plowing. He’d carry her indoors to her bed for the night. The girls loved the Valley. They had a tire swing that their grandpa Floyd made them that hung in the pecan tree in our front yard. Although they are adults today, they’ve never forgotten Pelham and the days when we lived there.
Burnice went back up north to Cleveland, OH, in 1962 and on March 15. 1963, he was killed in a car wreck on his way home from work. Our son was only 2 years old at the time. Since those days I have lived in Tracy City, Chattanooga, then back to Tracy City where I now make my home. I miss a lot of those old times we had. Things change over the years, but memories are still inside buried deeply just as my tracks where I once treaded in Pelham Valley. They can’t be seen today, but they were there many years ago. My memories of these times we shared in the Valley with all the family and friends there remain even though many of them have passed on. Some I loved deeply – Burnice, Aunt Georgia Lee Clay, Aunt Sula Edwards, and Elloise. Still today when I travel through Pelham, I gaze at the old places where newer homes have now been built. I think about the changes, but my mind wanders back to the days when we lived there.
MY DAYS AT SHOOK SCHOOL
By Barbara Mooney Myers
Growing up in the 1940’s, I started to Shook School in 1943. Mrs. Franklin Abernathy was my teacher in the first grade of school. We all called her Mrs. Franklin. We lived back as far as the last home on Lankford Town Road. Our neighbors on one side were the Noah Smith family. Behind us was the Conrys: Eugene and Mrs. Willie Mae (Anderson) Conry , his wife. Don was the oldest Conry son; Carl the youngest, and Mary was the youngest child of the family. Over from them were Willie Mae’s parents, Martha and Bill Anderson, and their children: Madge, June, Doris, Claude, and another son, Alvin, I think. The people up the road were Lish and Dorothy Anderson and their children Robert, Tony, Gene, Betty, Herbert and others born later on in years. There was the Chester and Carrie Burgess family, their two children, Billy and Charlotte. We’d all walk to school - no bus or car to take us to school. If Dad had a car in later years, he drove it to work.
There’d be kids at every house up the road from us and in between toward town where Shook School was. I remember Robert, Tony, & Betty Anderson; Price, Caroline, and Francis “Beatty” Thorp; Patsy Jo & Tommy Lewis Sanders; the McCormick sisters (Verna & Betty); Bud and Betty Ruth Guyar; Charlie & Ernestine Dove; Theodore and Jo Meeks; Billy Ray Wiley; and Don & Ned Arbuckle. There’d be days Kat Owens, Shirley Smith, Imogene Sanders, me and some other girls who walked, walked even in the rain. Our only umbrella was the open sky above us. We walked to school in winter, even when it was snowing or when the snow was deep. Our feet got soaked and cold, but when we got to school, we’d take off our socks, lay them on the radiator in our classroom to dry. Our shoes were all wet too, so we left them near the radiator to dry. Mom made me a small knitted hand-cut, blocked thin wrap to carry in my book bag to wrap my feet in. The weather would get rough many times, but most of us kids were tough, and this weather was no problem for us. We took it, rain, sleet, snow or sunshine, whatever the outdoor weather was. We spent more time out in the snow at home than indoors, playing, throwing snow balls, making snowmen and just making tracks where no one had walked. The snow was beautiful in the wooded areas and on the pine trees. At school we’d get out and have fun on the playgrounds if the teachers would let us play in the snow. I loved summertime the most of all. We’d wade the creek on our way home every day we could. There was something about these creeks we kids liked, and we just had an urge, I guess, to get into places we didn’t really need to be.
I was always glad when school started back in the fall, for I loved school. We had good classes. I had at least 30 or 35 kids in my room. Over half of these classmates lived out where I lived on Lankford Town Road. Most of these I still remember. The basketball games and spelling bees stand out in my mind. I loved spelling bees, for I was a good speller.
Our 8th grade basketball team was made up of (top-bottom; left to right) Leona Sanders, Peggy Joyce Worley Gipson, Ernestine Dove Kirkendoll, Imogene Sanders Stephens, Shirley Smith Brookman, Henrietta Brazile, Charlene Cox, Donna Kay Henley, Helen Partin, Gail Henley, and Fay Crisp.
Those Shook School days were good times for many of us. We learned quite a bit, yet we’d rather choose the long walks and pick at each other on our way to and from school. We had such good times together walking those two miles to school. My choice was seeing who could collect the most rocks or most leaves from different trees. Once I had over thirty leaves pressed in the pages of an old catalogue I kept in my bedroom. My bookshelf, Dad made me, was full of arrowhead, rocks shaped like fish or trees, and driftwood that I’d found along the creek banks. I was a tomboy! Back then we had to find some kind of hobby we liked.
Many times we wore holes in our shoes walking. I didn’t count the steps from my home to Shook School, but every day we walked two miles to school and two miles back home. There were lots of steps. I did know that there were 5,280 feet in a mile and we walked 4 miles a day.
Our lunches at school were the best ones anywhere. The soup was delicious, and I don’t even like peanut butter, but their peanut butter sandwiches were divine. I still haven’t figured out what they did to them to make them taste so good.
Shook School had teachers for each of the 8 grades even back then. My friends were Helen Thornberry and Gail Anderson.
My teachers were Mrs. Franklin Abernathy, Mrs. Nellie Josi Anderson, Mrs. Parmley, Mrs. Ophelia Walker, Mrs. Oma Lee Garthwaite, Mrs. Sallie Cheek, Mrs. Emma Nunley, and Mrs. Ethel Dykes, and our principal was Douglas Goforth. Louise Holmes was our music teacher at Shook School. Each of these had a great influence in my life and will be long remembered and cherished. When Shook School burned, it was a heart break for me and for those of us who attended there.
CHRISTMAS MEMORIES
By Members of the Grundy County Historical Society
I remember the Christmas of 1969 because it was a “white Christmas”. My ten-day leave from the U.S. Army at Fort Hood, TX, ended the day after Christmas, and I remember tromping through the snow on Christmas afternoon to get in the car and go to Chattanooga to catch a plane on Sunday morning back to Fort Hood.
That was my only leave, and when I was discharged, I was paid for 50 days of untaken leave time. By David Patton; Palmer, TN
I always remember the year that my younger brother and I asked for bicycles. Keith and I had aggravated our mother, Edna Layne, for weeks about getting new bikes for Christmas. Being she was a single mom raising three children, (I have an older brother, Nelson), we knew there was a possibility that she would not be able to afford such costly gifts for us.
When Christmas morning arrived, Keith and I ran to the Christmas tree hoping to find the one gift we had been wanting so badly. However, the bikes were not there. I will never forget the incredible disappointment that I felt. And that disappointment was mirrored in my brother’s face. But we knew that our mother had done the best she could and had provided us with several presents that were lovingly placed under the Christmas tree.
After opening our gifts, Mama told us it was time for breakfast. Little did we know that a wonderful surprise awaited us in the kitchen. There, standing in the middle of the room were two beautiful, brand new bicycles.
Every time I remember this special Christmas, my heart fills with immense love for my sweet Mama who loved and made so many sacrifices for me and my two precious brothers. By Leslie Layne Coppinger; Tracy City, TN
Often I catch myself yearning to take the trails again of my younger years, especially those of our earlier Christmases together.
Mom would send us children off in search for that special rounded cedar tree. We’d search the nearby woods or head to the old Byars Field where cedar trees grew as if they were planted there, and I’m sure they were planted by the Master himself. We’d find that special tree, trim it all up and fill our bags with holly, spruce and pine branches for decorating the windows indoors and outdoors. That smell of greenery filled the house!
We’d gather around the kitchen table making hanging lanterns and long chains from decorative paper pasted together with flour paste mama fixed for us to use. She gave us the center lid of her jar rims she took from her Mason jars and we’d paste pretty design on both the outer and inner sides of the lids. Mom made a little hole at the top of the lids and ran a string or ribbon through it for hanging. We’d string popcorn, berries, and often pine cones Mom had painted for the Christmas tree.
After we finished making the decorations, we’d start decorating the tree. It would be full of all our hand made items. At the top, we’d hang a star Mom made from cardboard covered with aluminum foil. We’d finish it up with cotton balls and icicles we’d saved year after year. We’d all stand back and idolize the tree, doing our bragging of how pretty it was. We never had a lot of gifts around the tree like a lot of us do now, for gifts were not among our possessions. Money was hard to get. If we got a gift, we were on cloud nine and were very grateful. We’d often hang our stockings and inside them would be an apple, orange, nuts and a candy cane. Often Mom put a pair of anklets or gloves or maybe a scarf in mine. The boys would get socks or a pair of mittens and maybe a small toy of some sort.
Christmas dinner was fit for a king. Mom would always make several cakes and pies, boil a big ham and then bake it with dressing. Green beans, turnip greens, potatoes (both Irish and sweet) would fill out the menu. There’d be bowl after bowl of delicious food before us to eat.
Every Christmas our home was blessed with a gathering of the families all talking and filling their tummies with delicious food. Gifts didn’t come to a lot of our minds for we weren’t used too getting much. Being together, eating and sharing our time was the most important issue for most families. Dad always said getting is not the meaning of Christmas; it’s our giving that counts, if it’s nothing but our love for each other, Christmas’ meaning is love, God’s love that he gave us the life of his son Jesus, who was born on Christmas Day. By Barbara Mooney Myers; Tracy City, TN
Daddy & Mama indulged me every year by taking me to spots all over Grundy County to find spruce, holly with red berries and mistletoe. We’d fill the trunk of our car with our treasures and bring them back to Pelham where we’d fashion wreathes to tie with red bows and place on our windows. Now that I think of it, it wasn’t the decorations themselves that gave me such good memories. It was the time we spent together as a family tramping through the damp woods and bringing the greenery and the tree back home to display.
Daddy would nail two pieces of plank in a cross then nail that to the bottom of our cedar tree to make it stand upright. He would then place a string around the middle of the trunk of the tree and attach the string to the wall to make sure the tree didn’t fall over. That kept the tree next to the wall and out of the way in our small house.
All my Christmases have been good, but I especially remember one from my childhood when I got a dollhouse. It was all metal, stamped with the wallpaper, bookshelves, decorations and carpets as well as the windows and shingles. There were a few pieces of furniture and a couple of miniature people to put in it. It was beautiful! I’m sure that it took my parents, Elbert & Elsie Layne, hours to put it together. I loved it so much I was well into my teens before I could pass it on to my younger cousins Barbara and Linda Morris. By Janelle Layne Taylor; Pelham, TN
LIFE IN PELHAM VALLEY IN THE 1950'S
By Barbara Mooney Myers
In the early 1950’s I was a teenager yet had met a guy from Pelham, TN. I knew that I would marry him in time, and on May 30, 1952, we were married and moved to Pelham, TN to live where all Burnice Myers’ family was from. His grandparents, Lonnie and Alice Myers and his father Floyd lived in between Pelham, Payne’s Cove, and Burrows’ Cove. There were cousins, aunts & uncles all over the Valley. His mother Elloise Myers Murphy and his stepfather, Ernie Murphy lived in Hillsboro, where he was a farmer.
There were little crooks and crannies everywhere in the Valley and a little home or farm tucked in here and there. The first place we lived was Smith Hollow or as a lot of folks called it, Rattle Snake Hollow. In warm weather, it was covered with rattlesnakes. Some coiled up on the rocks getting the sunshine. Others stretched out on the sand roads that went out to the main road. I’d keep a close watch for snakes when I was outside. I wasn’t very fond of those creatures! I’d go so far as to say I was AFRAID of them. Our home was a little four-roomed house hidden next to the mountains and on one side by the barn was a large cave. We got all our drinking water from it. We had a wooden box to keep our butter and milk in. It sat chained to a large rock right near the opening of the cave. We had a lot of walking space here and room to tend land.
Burnice farmed the empty fields to grow crops of corn and soybeans, and we made a fine garden in the spring. I’d can up ever jar I could afford to buy or get from someone who was not using all theirs. I’d can pickles, tomatoes, squash, okra, beans, crowder peas, kraut, hot peppers, chow-chow, corn, jams and jellies. I picked blackberries in the outer fields near by as well as peaches and apples if I had a chance to get them someplace. The Hollow was a lonesome place to be when the cold winters came. I spent a lot of time there indoors where I cooked, sewed, and kept house. Burnice sometimes worked at sawmills or at logging, or occasionally at a service station in the winter since he couldn’t farm. He and his dad, Floyd, would go to the mountains up from us to hunt. Lots of times, they’d come home with a tow sack full of squirrels or rabbits. They’d skin them, and I’d wash and cut them up for a hot meal. Then I’d fry them along with some potatoes and make gravy and biscuits. Everybody ate it all up because it was a high honor to have such a meal once in a while. Often we’d have squirrel or rabbit mulligan for the men since it was a favorite of theirs.
I didn’t always know how to cook. Burnice and Aunt Alice showed me how to make a mulligan. The first biscuits I made Burnice fed them to our dog, Old Ben, for they were hard and tough. The dog buried them in the field. After this embarrassment I learned to make good biscuits. Burnice kissed me many times over my biscuits. Each time he’d say they get better every time you cook. He’d always say, “takes a little practice to do things right, don’t it Barbara?”
We’d go out and visit his folks if we got a chance for it was a pleasure to be with Granny Alice & Papa Myers, Aunt Sula and Uncle Will Edwards, and all the others we’d see. The men would get out their musical instruments. Grandpa Lonnie played a fiddle, Floyd, a harmonica, and Burnice a guitar. We’d all gather around singing and listening to them as they played. All the Myerses were musical. It was always a joyful time for us. I’d dread going home to a lonesome old place. Yet, it was our home, and I grew to love it. We had our first daughter almost 2 years later. We named her Peggy. Burnice and Floyd were crazy over her, spoiling her by holding her all the time. Burnice would sing to her at night, and she would fall asleep on his knee.
The third year of our marriage, we moved out of Smith Hollow to G.H. Clay’s old home place near the present Cheatum Oliver Bridge. At that time we called it the upper end of Elk River. Burnice farmed G.H. and Uncle Garnett Clay’s land. There was farmland on all sides except the side that faced the coves bordered by Elk River. We had 30 cows G.H. bought to milk for local dairies. Burnice and his dad, Floyd, milked the cows mornings and nights. A local driver picked up the cans of milk to deliver them to the dairy. Burnice tended this land where he raised corn and cotton, soybeans and some tobacco. He worked from early morning until suppertime or later- until the fields were all planted. We raised chickens, some turkeys and hogs. We even had game hens and roosters. We sold eggs and vegetables in summer, eggs and pecans in the fall to Hutchinson’s Rolling Store that came around once a week. I’d trade all this for dried beans, flour, meal, coffee, salt, pepper, spices used to bake, lard, and a few other things. If I had the money every week, I’d get us a Coca Cola and put it in the icebox for a while. In the Hollow we had no electricity, but at this place we did, and we had water on the back porch.
We were thankful for the meals we sat down to eat for they would melt in your mouth. In the fall we’d kill hogs at Burnice’s stepfather, Ernie Murphy’s. His mother and I would cook a good meal for the men who had been working. We cured and salted the meat and got it ready for the winter. Elloise, Burnice’s mother, would pet the kids and load our car up with extras. Our second daughter, Sue, loved to go to her grandma’s house because she often got toys and candy.
After the hog killing, we’d go home and start grinding meat for fresh sausage and cutting up the tenderloin. I’d cook and can all this in half-gallon jars I had put back. We’d store the sugar cured and salted means in our meat room on the back porch. We ate good meals.
We stayed at home except for Saturday evenings when we visited his folks on both sides of the family. Often we’d drive to Tracy City if we had gas money to see my sister and her family. My mom, Josephine Mooney, stayed with us a lot. She helped me can and iron clothes. Lots of times though, when she’d leave we wouldn’t see her for weeks, sometimes a month. James William, my dad and my brothers, Louis & Mansel Mooney lived in Chattanooga at the time. My brother Joe lived in Ohio.
In summertime we’d go to the river and fish near our house. When we were lucky enough to catch fish, we’d have a cookout on the riverbank. Burnice would play his guitar and we would have a joyful evening at home. Sometimes Floyd and G.H. and his then girlfriend, Shirley, would join us for a good meal of fresh fish. Shirley Anderson was a second cousin of mine.
Many winters after 1956 my husband would go up north to Cleveland, Ohio, and work. When spring would come, we would usually come back to Pelham. That year we moved to Payne’s Cove up a t Mr. Cheatum Oliver’s where Burnice worked for him at the sawmill. Cheatum had sons Marvin Earl, Jim, & Melvin and daughters Geneva & Joann. The boys worked right alongside their dad at the mill. By then, times were harder for us because food wasn’t nearby as it had been earlier. It was gone, and many times we sat down to a pot of pinto beans, fried taters, a big onion, and cornbread for supper. We’d sold all our chickens, turkeys, cows, and had only a few game chickens around the house, very few eggs, not like we had before. We had more gravy for breakfast than we had ever had before. We let the children have the eggs in the mornings if they didn’t choose to eat oatmeal. We at a lot of oatmeal since it was cheap and good for you. Burnice wasn’t fond of it, but he did love his gravy. When he’d kill a rabbit, we’d have it for breakfast. We sometimes went to the creek and gigged a few frogs. We would eat the legs. They were very tasty. My father-in-law caught me the first batch of frogs I ever cooked. They were so good fried up crispy with potatoes and gravy.
When we had the money, we’d buy a bushel of Irish or sweet potatoes if we didn’t raise any. If I came across an apple tree or plum tree in a field, I’d load up and bring them home to can or to make fried pies for Burnice. He loved them. With the plums, I’d make jelly. I loved plum jelly with that tangy taste it had.
When we lived at Cheatum Oliver’s old home place, we would eat supper, sit out on the porch and listen to Burnice play his guitar and sing Hank Williams’ songs. Sometimes we would sing religious songs and I would sew. I made our bed quilts to use in the winters. The girls were growing up, and they’d dance around the yard while their daddy played the music. He could out do any country music singer in the town of Nashville. Anyway, in my heart he knew how to play and sing. Often Mr. Cheatum and his boys would come over and sit on the porch, listen to Burnice, and pat their feet. His music was our only enjoyment, for we had no video or record players to listen to. On warm days I’d pick wild greens or turnip greens if a neighbor had them. They’d sure perk up the appetite for a change. Mrs. Irene Oliver sent over greens sometimes. She was a wonderful neighbor and a hard worker. The Oliver family was a fine bunch of people to live near in those days. In fact, we had many good neighbors, the Argos, Clays, Wintons, and of course, all the Myers families as well as many others who lived nearby. We spent a lot of time just sitting around talking during the cold wintertime. On Christmas, I would raid the nearby creek banks or the woods for a Christmas tree, holly and spruce for bouquets for my tables. There was only hand made decorations for the tree. No lights, but still a pretty tree. I made a wreath for the front door and sometimes for the windows.
Money was scarce sometimes, but we’d spend time with Burnice’s mom and sometimes his grandparents. Just being together and spending time was rewarding for us. Gifts were sometimes costly, yet love for our families was priceless, and meant far more. When we moved back to G.H. Clay’s for the second time where Burnice could farm the land, I missed the old Oliver home place for there was no creek nearby. When it rained the creek would rise and we’d cross over on a two-log bridge with arm rails. The girls and I would trail the creeks when they’d dry up or even wade them hunting for pretty rocks and fossils along the banks. I’d raid the open nearby fields for wild flowers. They were so beautiful. I loved flowers and the outdoor life, parading through the woods, searching for herbs. I did it as a child and it was still in me as an adult. God created this world to his likeness and it pleased me to see the beautiful things he’d put here to see.
My mother also loved the woods and wild flowers. She’d sit on a rock gazing through the open spaces just hoping she’s see the Lady Slippers in bloom in the early spring. Many times we’d go home carrying an arm full of good kindling to start the fire in the cook stove. Seems there was always a need for everything out there if we just knew how to find the use.
After we spent time in Cleveland, OH, getting back home was first choice on my list. I enjoyed taking the girls and going to the open fields where Burnice tilled and planted crops. Often I’d carry him his lunch if he was close by. I’d take him fried taters and biscuits and some tenderloin if we had it to spare. Sometimes I’d take an egg or two from the gallon that I had pickled and a jar of water with a chunk of ice. We’d visit the cemeteries in between. Those were the Goodman Cemetery in back of Aunt Hilda & Uncle Garnet Clay’s and the Solomon Sanders Cemetery there on the main Payne’s Cove road. Sometimes we’d all get on the tractor with Burnice and go to Payne’s Cove Cemetery or to Burrows’ Cove to the Sartain Cemetery or the Winton Cemetery on over in the field by a group of large oak trees. Only a few graves were there. Burnice’s uncle Edgar Myers and his wife Nell Ruth lived in Payne’s Cove.
Hilda Clay was my husband’s aunt. She was a sister to Burnice’s mother Elloise Campbell Murphy. They also had sisters, Ava, Nina, Lola, and a brother, Taft Campbell.
In the late fall, we’d gather walnuts & hickory nuts to use for baking. Often the kids would love cracking and eating them. We’d load our nail kegs with pecans to put back for the wintertime and for Christmas. From time to time Burnice would find a few chestnuts at one old home place near where we lived. We’d roast them on the fireplace. Sometimes we’d pop popcorn we had raised or roast peanuts if we had planted them. Elloise always raised peanuts, so we had some for roasting and for making chocolate fudge. It was always a treat to have plenty of nuts stored away. Eating was always better.
Pelham was a place for fine gardens, raising crops and cattle. The fields were full of fine milk cows and young calves for families to kill for beef. If we had meat, we usually had a good meal on the table. More often we had fried chicken, especially on Sunday. We had chicken for breakfast too if we had time to get them ready. It was a long process for we killed and dressed them then cut them up before we even got ready to do any cooking.
When crops came in, we were all happy to have the fresh vegetables to eat. The girls loved their corn on the cob. We all ate a lot of corn in those days. Corn was a cheap crop to raise. I’d can it in reused gallon jugs that once contained vinegar. In winter it sure tasted good on a cold day. There are so many times I remember – like my oldest daughter Peggy would beg her dad to let her ride on the tractor as he turned the soil. Many times she’d fall asleep as he finished his plowing. He’d carry her indoors to her bed for the night. The girls loved the Valley. They had a tire swing that their grandpa Floyd made them that hung in the pecan tree in our front yard. Although they are adults today, they’ve never forgotten Pelham and the days when we lived there.
Burnice went back up north to Cleveland, OH, in 1962 and on March 15. 1963, he was killed in a car wreck on his way home from work. Our son was only 2 years old at the time. Since those days I have lived in Tracy City, Chattanooga, then back to Tracy City where I now make my home. I miss a lot of those old times we had. Things change over the years, but memories are still inside buried deeply just as my tracks where I once treaded in Pelham Valley. They can’t be seen today, but they were there many years ago. My memories of these times we shared in the Valley with all the family and friends there remain even though many of them have passed on. Some I loved deeply – Burnice, Aunt Georgia Lee Clay, Aunt Sula Edwards, and Elloise. Still today when I travel through Pelham, I gaze at the old places where newer homes have now been built. I think about the changes, but my mind wanders back to the days when we lived there.
THE LIFE OF A COALMINER- JAMES W. MOONEY
By Barbara Mooney Myers
I recall that many of the years from the middle forties through to the late fifties were booming with coal mining. Local towns nearby such as Tracy City, Coalmont, Palmer and Whitwell all were filled with coalmines. Seventy five percent of our men in the area were coal miners. My father James W. Mooney, known to many as “Bill”, was born on May 8, 1902, in Sewanee, TN, to William and Martha Cook Mooney.
Dad started at the early age of 15 working in the logging business along with his father and two brothers, Joe & John Mooney. By the age of 17, Dad began his life as a miner. By 1919, he was forking coal or coke into railroad cars. Dad spoke of his first bosses in the mining work. One was Eli Bennett. Another was Close Parsons. Mr. Parsons was over the coal washer. Dad had different jobs as a miner. He ran a steam drum where he was paid $1.50 a day. By 1920, his job pay changed to $3.50 a day for an 8-hour shift.
Around Tracy City there were many small mines with names such as Reed Hill, Lick Point, Pryor Ridge, Big Hill and Little Hill.
In days of few types of entertainment, miners would go to see a silent movie in a little theatre in Coalmont. If they had a horse and buggy, they would take long buggy rides with their favorite girl. Horseshoes and listening to battery operated radios or Victrolas were popular pastimes. The Grand Ole Opry on WSM was a favorite spot on the radio when Saturday night rolled around. Singers such as Roy Acuff, Little Jimmy Dickens, String Bean, Uncle Dave Macon and Jimmie Rogers were popular at the time.
Dad’s closest friend during these years was Jasper Hargis, the son of Abe and Barbara Headrick Hargis of Gruetli. Jasper was a man of about 5’ 10” weighing 175-180 lbs. He and his family lived there in the Swiss Colony community. He wore suits and neatly ironed long sleeved shirts to match and often, colorful pullover sweaters. Stylish dress oxfords of either brown or black with white were his shoe choices. My dad admired Jasper’s style. Dad said that he and other miners were lucky to have a change of clothes! Jasper had many sisters and brothers, but at this time dad spoke highly of his younger sisters at home. They were Josie and Rosa Lee Hargis. Later on Dad met a first cousin of Jasper , Josie and Rosa Lee’s. Her name was Josephine Dove, daughter of David & Mary Headrick Dove. Mary Headrick was a sister to Jasper’s mother, Barbara Hargis.
By the latter part of 1921, Dad had made up his mind to marry Josephine. At that time he was working around Coalmont and Palmer in dog hole mines. These mines were dug out holes barely big enough for a man to crawl into to work at digging coal. At the time he was friends with Garvin Morgan of Coalmont. Garvin had married Dad’s father’s sister, Flora Mooney. She was my grandfather William Mooney’s sister.
James W. Mooney & Josephine Dove married September 15, 1922. They first lived at Coalmont. Other families there were the Phippses, Holts, Davises, Kings, Burroughs, Hargises and Morgans. At the time most of the miners in Coalmont worked at mines managed by Lawrence Phipps. Also in Coalmont was a store owned by the Creightons. Almost everyone traded there. The Creightons offered credit to most of the miners. On payday at the mines you could bet your eye-teeth that the store would be the coal miners’ first stop. There they would pay their bills and buy a batch of groceries which usually included flour, meal, coffee, lard, sugar, salt and a slab of fat back if they hadn’t killed a hog during the winter. On weekends there were always chores such as chopping wood then splitting it. Then, of course, there was gardening in the summer.
By late 1922 many of the miners went on strike. Some left Coalmont, Palmer and nearby areas by train in 1923 for Morganfield, KY, to work there where mining was booming. Miners could rent a room at a big boarding house there, so Dad was among those who went to KY to work. He spent three months there, but soon was lonesome for his wife and family. He boarded a train and rode back to Sewanee, TN.
Coming back home meant looking for another home for the family. Eventually he found the old Phipps place in Gruetli. The place had been built in the early 1840’s and had many warped boards, both inside and out. It had been empty for some time, but was once owned by Mother’s grandfather, Tom Headrick. The family set in to do the needed repairs of replacing broken windows, repairing doors, scalding and cleaning the floors and scrubbing down the walls. Since it was a very large house, some of the rooms were just closed off. The closest neighbors were the Abe & Barbara Hargis family, but they were a good way down a sandy road.
Dad found work at the John Powell Mine in Coalmont. He gathered his old mining pick, auger and his worn, dull shovel that had been handed down from his father. Abe Hargis was “the best” handyman, so he sharpened the shovel as well as all our other tools. Dad made his first trip to the mine, 5 miles away, carrying a 25 - pound keg of black powder on his shoulder plus the auger, pick, shove, carbide lamp, his lunch & a water pail. A day’s work was loading 3 to 4 tons of coal, which paid $1.50 per ton.
Our family left Coalmont in 1923 for Alabama after my brother William Carl died around Christmastime. My maternal grandmother and her husband lived there as well as Mom’s brothers Henry & Arnold. They were all miners, so Dad began mining with them.
By 1925 our family moved back to Sewanee to a place called “Potts Knob”, once called the old Dotson place. By this time another daughter Dorthy Elizabeth had been born. Another son, Buford Ray, had come along, but he died from colitis when he was only 4-years-old. In 1932, Joe Thomas, who was named after Dad’s brother Joe, was born. In 1935 Gloria Lou was born and died on the same day. August 28, 1937, I was born in Coalmont near Pine City. Dad spoke of these days as hard times, “Hoover Days”.
We lived at many different places following Dad’s work. There was a place in Hoot Hollow in Tracy that is the Griswold homeplace today, then, we moved to a little place owned by John Throneberry, which we later bought. A little while later Dad traded the place to Walter & Byrtle Cagle for a home in the country. Another brother was born in 1943 at our home in Lankford Town, a section of Tracy City.
Mining was still going strong in the 1940’s and Dad was really into his work. His working companions were Waldo & Herschel Myers, Dave & Harve Nolan, Amos & Ed Layne; Pascal, Barney, Roy & Chuck Johnson, Dolph Hargis and several Shrum fellows. At this time he was working at “Lick Point” Mine in Pryor Ridge. That was his last mining job.
My Dad lived to be 86-years-old and died from cancer on April 18, 1988. Mom was killed in a car accident on March 21, 1966. Both parents are buried at Bonny Oak Cemetery in Coalmont, TN. I moved away from the mountain for a time, but a voice kept calling me to “come back home”, so I returned in 1986. Home is where the heart is.
I am proud to be a coalminer’s daughter.
