The eye-catching news in a local Feb. 28, 1903 newspaper was bold and to the point: “Beginning March 1st, Johnson City will be in total darkness.” It seems that on that day the contract with the Electric Light Company for street lights expired, leaving a new contract pending. The city population that year was about 5,000.

In the meantime, the lights continued to burn with the understanding that a new contract had been established to fix the price. At a meeting of the board on that Wednesday night, an effort was made to come to an agreement on a new contract with a Mr. Stratton, who represented the light company.

Stratton desired a contract for five years at $80 a lamp per year. However, if the city would utilize seven additional lamps, he agreed to cut the price to $75 a lamp per year. The city wanted to pay $75 for the present number of lamps, but if seven more were added, they agreed to cut the price to $72.

The city's light committee convened and issued two proposals, the majority favoring Mr. Stratton's contention, but the minority report made by Alderman Mathes carried the vote. That one was based on a clause in the original franchise contract that specified that “the price charged shall not exceed the price paid in Knoxville, Chattanooga and Bristol.”

The average, Mr. Mathes figured, would be $84 for 2000 candle power lights based on an all-night schedule. Conceding that 200 lights or more could be furnished more cheaply per light than 40, it was agreed that Johnson City would accept 1200 candle power lamps instead of 2000.

To further cheapen the cost of lights, the “moonlight schedule” was accepted and thus saved 40 per cent of the price, but Mr. Mathes said he agreed to deduct only 20 per cent, and this would make the average price $66.

Johnson City Ads from Feb. 28, 1903, Same Timeframe for City Going Dark

Trying to agree on a contract, he kept going up until he reached $72 and finally $75. Mr. Stratton emphatically stated that his company could not furnish the lights at that price and the board adjourned with plans to reconvene the following Thursday evening to further address the matter.

The issue was again brought up and finally disposed of by tabling the committee's report and notifying Mr. Stratton that the street lights would be paid for each month on the old rate of $85 until the matter was otherwise disposed of.

Regrettably for the city, the offer was not satisfactory and the following brief telegram told the final chapter: “Coeburn, Va., Feb. 28, 1903. To: J.W. Crumley, Major Johnson City: Have wired to discontinue street lights on and after March 1st. As much as this is regretted, we can not furnish lights without some definite agreement for compensation. Signed, F.A. Stratton.”

This failure of both parties to compromise created a strong current in favor of the city maintaining its own plant. As a result, the board appointed a committee to travel to Morristown to investigate their plant. However, unlike Johnson City, the Morristown plant was owned by the city. The committee drove there the following Wednesday, obtained all the facts and figures and made a report at the next meeting of the board.

If a plant was to be built in Johnson City, the present legislature would be asked to pass an act authorizing the city to issue bonds for that purpose. In the meantime, residents of Johnson City were deprived of nighttime street lights, something they had gotten used to, for an undetermined amount of time. 

Read more

I recently came across a listing of nine churches in Johnson City  in 1908, which was three years after the devastating downtown fire. The find reveals a lot of key information about these places of worship:

1. First Baptist Church: the “Little White Church”): E. Main Street; Rev. Clarence Hodge, Pastor; Pastorium, 111 Harris Avenue; Sunday School, 9:15 a.m.; Preaching, 10:30 a.m.  and 7:30 p.m.; BYPU (Baptist Young Peoples Union), 6:30 p.m.; Prayer Meeting, Wednesday, 7:30 p.m. The church relocated after the fire to Watauga Avenue and eventually to Roan Street where it acquired a new name: Central Baptist Church.

2. Christian Church: E. Main Street; Rev. J. Lem Keevil, Pastor; residence, 209 Buffalo Street; Bible School, Communion and Sermon at 10:30 a.m.; YPSCE (Young People's Society of Christian Endeavor) at 6:30 p.m.; Preaching 7:30 p.m.; Prayer Meeting, Wednesday, 7:30 p.m.

3. St. John's Church (Episcopal): Roan Street and Myrtle Avenue; Rector, Rev. W.H. Osborne; Rectory, 208 Unaka Avenue; Services: Eastertide Ladies' Guild, 2 p.m.; St. Mary's Guild, Thursday, 2 p.m.; St. Andrew's Brotherhood, Wednesday, 7:30 p.m.;, Sunday, 7 a.m., Early Celebration: 9:15 a.m. Sunday; Sunday School, 10:30 a.m.; morning prayer and sermon, Friday, 7:30 p.m. instruction; 8:00 p.m., choir practice.

Methodist Episcopal Church

4. First Methodist Episcopal Church: Corner of Main (frontage) and Roan streets (side); Pastor, Rev. A.S. Beaman; Parsonage, 100 S. Roan Street; Sunday School, 9 a.m.; Preaching, 10:30 a.m.; Epworth League, 6:30 p.m.; Evening Preaching, 7:30 p.m.; Prayer Meeting, Wednesday, 7:30 p.m. (Older people may remember this location as the old King's Department Store).

5. Market Street M.E. Church, South:  Rev. S.H. Vaughn, D.D. Pastor; Parsonage, corner of E. Market and S. Roan Streets; Preaching, 10:30 a.m. and 7:30 p.m.; Sunday School, 9 a.m.; Epworth League meets 45 minutes before evening preaching;, Prayer Meeting, Wednesday, 7:30 p.m.

6. First Presbyterian Church: Corner Main and Humboldt streets (street now defunct, once located south from Main Street and one block west of the railroad); Rev; J. Edmunds Brown, Pastor; manse at 116 Watauga Avenue; Sunday School; 9:15 a.m.; Preaching, 10:30 a.m. and 7:30 p.m.; C.E. 6:45 p.m.; Prayer Meeting, Wednesday, 7:30 p.m.

7. United Brethren in Christ: Church and Parsonage, corner Roan Street and Watauga Ave.; Rev. C.H. Berry, Pastor; Sunday School, 9:15; Preaching 10:30 a.m. and 7:30 p.m.; YPSCE at 6:30 p.m.; Prayer and Bible Study; Wednesday at 7:30 p.m.

8. Watauga Avenue Presbyterian Church: Rev. Jere A, Moore, Pastor; manse at 606 E. Watauga Avenue; Sunday School, 9:20 a. m.; Preaching, 10:45 a.m.; C.E., 7:30 p.m.; Prayer Meeting. Wednesday, 7:30 p.m.

9. Catholic Church: Mission House, (behind Science Hill High School on E. Market Street); first Sunday of every month; Mass and Catechism, 10:30 a.m.; Benediction, 3 p.m.; E.T. Callahan, Mission Priest. 

Read more

Today's column is a glance back to August 1954 when 15-minute soap operas filled the weekday airways of radio and television. A contrast of these 14 programs with today's television “soaps” is rather noteworthy.

BACKSTAGE WIFE: Gambler Victor Stratton presses his attentions on Mary Noble, which she tries to ward off while still keeping his friendship because he owns part of Larry's new play. Larry, unhappy and hurt by what seems like Mary's loss of faith in him, turns to Elise Shephard, who is all too willing to open her arms to him.

THE BRIGHTER DAY: Despite Althea's own inner confusion, her instinct where men are concerned was sound enough for her to warn her younger sister Patsy that handsome Alan Butler would take some hanging on to. But that didn't keep Patsy's heart from breaking when Alan asked for release from their engagement. As Althea's relationship with Dr. Blake Hamilton develops, will Blake's younger brother help Patsy past her own crisis? CBS Radio.

FRONT PAGE FERRELL: David and Sally Farrell seem to be involved in cases that tax their resourcefulness and energy and put a constant peril on their lives. Sally always follows along, though the beginning of most cases finds her trailing behind. Before it's through, however, she's in as deep as David and follows each step until the case is solved, and another murderer caught. ABC Radio.

THE GUIDING LIGHT: Meta Roberts is baffled and worried as her stepdaughter, Kathy, continues trying to win happiness with the subterfuge and half-truths that have already caused so much misery. Is there any hope for Kathy, even if Dick realizes his true feeling-of lack of it for Janet Johnson? CBS-TV and CBS Radio.

JUST PLAIN BILL:The events of the past few months still seem like a horrible nightmare to Bill. The woman he almost married, Thelma Nelson. was proven to be a vicious criminal, but Bill is too big a person to have one incident destroy his faith in people. Because of this great faith in life we again find Bill trying to help. NBC Radio

LIFE CAN BE BEAUTIFUL: Chichi would never have married Dr. Mac if he hadn't been a courageous, independent man, but there is a line past which courage becomes rashness, and when Mac tries to deal single-handedly with a shadow from his family's unhappy past, he runs into trouble that his brother Craig might have helped him avoid. NBC Radio.

LORENZO JONES: Belle Jones has used desperate measures in a situation to save the marriage she recalls with such happiness. She leaves the theater and returns to Canada with Lorenzo. Gail Maddox, who has hoped to marry Lorenzo, is startled by this new turn of events and takes frantic new action against Belle. NBC Radio.

LOVE OF LIFE: As always, Meg Harper's arrogant, trouble-bent personality had stirred up a storm of problems even in quiet Barrowsville, which her sister Van feels honor-bound to solve before taking up her own happy future with Paul Raven. CBS-TV.

MA PERKINS: Ma's friendship with the Pierces is an old much-treasured one, and when Alf Pierce's will named Ma as trustee, she accepts unhesitatingly despite her inward qualms at being responsible for so much money. Has Ma done the right thing toward reckless Billy Pierce and his ambitious young wife, Laura? CBS Radio.

ONE MAN'S FAMILY:From time immemorial, parents have agonized over the question of whether to guide their children on a tight rein or a loose one. But in the Barbour family, the problem is settled by personality, for James Barbour is a man of strict principles. It remains for Fanny, his wife, to soften the restrictions on her children. NBC-TV.

OUR GAL SUNDAY: Sunday's separation from Lord Henry has left her weakened, shaken, and uncertain of the future of her marriage. It is understandable that when a new threat arises she finds it difficult to gather her strength to combat it. Sunday's future is going to depend on her ability to find her courage again. CBS Radio. 

PEPPER YOUNG'S FAMILY: Very few people are immune to the lure of big money, quickly made, and Pepper can understand his father's excitement over Dr. Grayson's prediction that oil lies beneath the Young farmland. But neither Pepper nor Linda can overcome an instinctive distrust of Grayson. NBC Radio.

PORTIA FACES LIFE: Though Portia gave up her legal career for full-time family life, Walter Manning has always been proud of her ability and more than once has been glad of her help with his own work. But what happens when Portia's career once again becomes an active issue in the Manning home? CBS-TV.

SEARCH FOR TOMORROW: Although Joanne Barron's marriage to Arthur Tate is blocked by the startling appearance of the woman who claimed to be Arthur's long-missing wife, Jo, and Arthur still believe that before long the truth about Hazel will emerge. CBS-TV. 

Read more

On Thursday night, July 12, 1888, several couples of the elite of the city gathered at the residence of Mr. and Mrs. F.A. Stratton on Maple Street. This was in response to a personal invitation to attend an event given in honor of a Mrs. Scott, of Indianapolis, and Misses Mary and Mattie Wilder of Roan Mountain, TN.

The hosts had an elegant home, the chief attraction being a large contiguous lawn. On this evening, no pains were spared to render the occasion a pleasant one, and how well they succeeded, all that were present could certainly testify.

The house was brilliantly illuminated, and numerous Chinese lanterns added to the beauty of the grounds served to cast sufficient shadows to satisfy loving couples inclined to seek dim lights and quiet nooks.

At ten o'clock, an elegant lunch was served on the lawn, after which all returned to the parlors. At one end of the main parlor was something very unusual – a large and very realistic looking donkey, with the single exception that it was devoid of a tail.

Each person was supplied with a piece of cloth made-up to represent a donkey's tail, and each piece was numbered. As the numbers were called, the persons holding them would go to the center of the room and, after being blindfolded, would start towards the donkey and pin the tail where they thought it belonged. It was very amusing to see how far “off the mark” some of them would get.

    

Mr. Isaac Harr came nearest and won first prize, while Miss Millard was the furthest removed and won the booby prize. Mrs. Scott and Miss Mary Wilder made the donkey and their work illustrated that they were true artists. The guests present at the event included:

Mr. and Mrs. T.E. Matson, Mr. and Mrs. J.E. Crandall. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor and Mrs. Wilder; Misses Sanna Taylor, Constance Tinsley, Mildred Smith, Sallie Faw, Stacy Crumley, Emma and Eva Wilson, Nora Crumley, Cora Shewalter, Libbie Ceure, Allice Millard, Bennie Hoss, Lillie Roach, messrs Ike Harr, Frank Wells, Charles McNeil, Ralph Boyd, H.R Kenyon, Martin Gump, Henry Stratton, Harry Lyle, J.W. Crumley, Walter Kirkpatrick, John Cure, E.D. Duncan, Walter Faw, G.K. McCormick, James Houtz and Cy Lyle.

No other activities were mentioned in the gathering. What was intriguing to me was my perception that a donkey party was something usually reserved for youngsters. The donkey game was often played by youngsters of my generation at a youth gathering. We usually obtained a sheet, drew a crude (very crude) donkey on it without the tail.

One donkey get-together from my childhood that I vividly recall occurred in apartment 2-R near the south end of the Gardner Apartments, which once stood at the intersection of W. Watauga Avenue and W. Market Street (before an arsonist torched it a few years ago). Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Green hosted the social for their daughter, Wanda. I was the “grand winner” of the game, bringing home a cigar box chocked full of stationery supplies; that was right down my alley in spite of the fact that I was only about six years old. 

The people mentioned in this article were not adolescents; they were some of Johnson City's elite citizens. I find it odd that they would engage in such a juvenile game and seemingly enjoyed it. I can't picture my parents playing this game, except when their object of affection was their young son, Bobby.

Maybe we have become too sophisticated to allow ourselves to be blindfolded and attempt to place a cloth tail with a pin on it on the posterior of an “equus africanus asinus.” The creature in real life is domesticated, having long ears and employing a loud bray. That game was a favorite pastime in my young days and I looked forward to every opportunity to participate in it.

Maybe folks were less refined in that era. I might organize a game of “Pin the Tail on the Donkey” and see if anyone shows up. Anybody interested in attending?

Read more

The annual Cosby Ramp Festival was literally belched into existence on April 25, 1954 with Gov. Frank Clement proclaiming that spring day to be “Ramp-Eating Day” in Tennessee. Listed below are summaries of 13 of the 57 festivals that took place there:

Apr. 1954: Cosby is located in Cocke County, Tennessee. Ramps, real name, “Allium tricoccum,” grow in the mountainous areas of Tennessee, North Carolina and the Virginias at altitudes above 3,000 feet. The self-effacing ramp symbolized the strength and hardiness exemplified by the citizenry of the Tennessee mountains. While one might think that the ramp would dissuade more tourists than it attracted, the first ramp festival drew a crowd of about 30,000 on 25 acres of land. President Harry S. Truman was present as an added attraction. Although the main menu was comprised of corn pone, ramps and sassafras tea, those too wimpy to savor the smelly mountain treat had a choice of barbecued chicken and beef.

Apr. 1955:Mr. Truman returned to his second festival but vowed that he would not eat the pungent wild onions. Summarily, a delegation visited him and gave him a pre-taste of the ramp to acclimate him. The ramp, first cousin to the Lily of the Valley, smells roughly like a cross between an onion and a garlic plant, liberally seasoned with vinegar. While some folks regard it as a delicacy, others eat it in self-defense. Cosby was described as a community that was comprised of nothing more than a country story and a post office run by one of the few Democrats around.

The previous night, a play written by Cosby resident, Delmar Baxter, was presented by local actors dressed in hill country garb and using dialect depicting the Cosby story. The festival was largely the achievement of David R. Large, president of Cosby's Ruritan Club. Truman, after receiving a 21-gun salute, spoke to the crowd. All the while, ramps were cooking in the back.

Ramp Devotees Partage of Their Favorite Potent Leeks

Apr. 1956: The 1956 invited guest was Eddy Arnold, internationally known “Tennessee Plowboy” best identified with his song, “Cattle Call.” Also, the University of Tennessee “Pride of the Southland Band” was  secured for the ramp festival that year. Governor Frank Clement delivered the principal address.

Apr. 1962: The festival was held in Luther Valentine's pasture to honor the mighty ramp, described as being the “vilest-smellin' vegetable grown anywhere on earth.” Interior Secretary Stewart Udall paid tribute to those souls brave enough to eat it, but he did not partake of it himself.” Senator Estes Kefauver bravely consumed a small quantity of ramps.” Cary Fry, a candidate for governor of Tennessee, refused to eat any on the grounds that “no politician wants to smell like that.” Those planning to eat ramps were warned that they would smell like a Billy goat on the second day. 

May 1963:The 1963 gathering saw upwards of 20,000 people gathered at Cosby for a day-long festival of fun in honor of the lowly ramp. The event combined heavy socializing with relaxing in the beautiful area on the fringes of the Great Smoky Mountains along state highways 32 and 73. The entertainers included Dinah Shore, Eddy Arnold, Roy Acuff, Minnie Pearl, Dorothy Collins (“Your Hit Parade”) and regional talent from the tri-state area. Most diners adorned his or her plate with that magnificent maverick, the indescribable gastronomic ramp.

Apr. 1969:The event six years later saw a more modest 6,000 persons gracing Kineauvista Hill that year. The bill of fare was barbecued chicken and beef, sassafras tea, cornbread and of course, ramps, served fried, boiled or raw. They dined while listening to country music from Grand Ole Opry performers, Archie Campbell and Lorene Mann. Also on hand were Sen. Howard Baker and Rep. James Quillen, both Tennessee Republicans.

Preparing the Delicacies at a Typical Ramp Festival

July 1971: The first bluegrass festival ever held in the state was held on July 2, 3 and 4 at Kineauvista Hill at Cosby. My wife and I attended that one. The stated location was approximately five miles, south of Newport off Interstate 40. Top notch bluegrass artists signed to appear on the shows were Bill Monroe, father of bluegrass music, who was also a Hall of Fame member; Jim & Jesse; Lester Flatt and the Nashville Grass; The Goins Brothers, Red and Fred; Carl Story, Bobby Smith and the Boys from Sholoh.

James Monroe, Bill's son, hosted the gala, along with Bud McCain of WSM Radio, Nashville, who emceed the show on Saturday afternoon and evening. WSM's Grand Ole Opry announcer, Grant Turner, directed the program on Sunday. An amateur band contest was held Friday, July 2 and any bands wishing to enter was instructed to be at the park to register at 10 a.m. that morning. prizes were awarded.

May 1972:The 19th annual Ramp Festival attracted 8,000 visitors. One guest, not familiar with ramps, looked up the delicacy in a large dictionary. He had to wade through nearly five inches of descriptions for the word, such as “crawl,” “boisterous rage,” “incline,” “swindle,” “bold woman,' “slope” and others. Finally he spotted it: “Any of several plants of the genus Allium.”

May 1975: Several days before the festival began, local club members went into the Great Smoky Mountains to gather 80 bushels of ramps, which was followed by two nights of cleaning and preparing. Then on the big day, fires were started, cooking began for steaming pots of ramps, barbecued chicken, and salads that contained ramps and even scrambled eggs. People came from miles around to eat, visit, play baseball and enjoy a stage program of gospel singing, country music, a beauty pageant and some long-winded political speeches.

Apr. 1981: Advertising for the festival warned newcomers: “Don't be too surprised if there's a run on mouthwash today in this small town. If you plan to eat ramps, you better be sure your wife does also or you will sleep alone for several days. The ad went on to state that ramps are stronger than garlic and ten times stronger than an onion. The “Maid of the Ramps” winner was thrilled with the honor but not the insistence that she eat one of the critters. Her evaluation  of the delicacy was, “I ate one and I didn't go out of my house for a week.” 

May 1988: The 35th festival was held on May 1 with such entertainers as Tennessee Ernie Ford, little Miss Brenda Lee, Archie Campbell, Razzy Bailey, Con Hunley and Del Reeves. The media noted that for generations, people in the mountains had considered the ramp as an important ingredient for their health. That year the menu included scrambled eggs, home cured fried fatback, fried cornbread, and, of course, ramps. Other menu items were a chicken box lunch, hot dogs, hamburgers and a bean plate consisting of pinto beans, fried Tcornbread and fried fatback.

Apr. 2011: Sadly, the Cosby Ramp Festival came to an abrupt finale in 2011 after 57 years of continuous operation. Vandals brutally wrecked the park, leaving the owners without the necessary funds to restore the damage. Its closure was also brought about by a significant drop in attendance in prior years. It was time to give the lowly ramp a well-deserved rest; that year, the annual “smell-a-thon” drifted into yesteryear.

There are other locations around Tennessee that still host ramp days, such as the one at Flag Pond, but the one mentioned in this article went dark in 2011. 

Read more

On 04-05-1871, the “impromptu stump speaker,” a political fixture, was intellectually known as a “human nondescript.” He was likened to a kind of terribly crushed meat, specially salted, saged and peppered, which became known as “souce” (from the Latin word “salsas,” (which is always ready for use).

A stump speech is “a standard campaign vocalization used by someone running for public office.” The term is derived from the early American custom in which candidates campaigned from town-to-town and stood upon a sawed off tree stump to deliver their discourse.”

The word “impromptu” fit him well because of his busy pace of campaigning, which often included addressing folks several times a day. The candidate usually penned a single speech to be delivered at most, if not all, public gatherings.

The campaigner was further described as being like a “liberated open-countenanced, strong-lunged canine, always prepared to sound off at a moment's notice, to bark for anybody and at anything and to yelp as long as his prepared speeches pleased or annoyed his public, but they were never ignored.”

The orator was likened unto a barn door hung on face hinges, opening not only with easy screeches, but one way was just as easy as another, and when you shut him off in one direction, he was sure to open in another and possibly in several… all at the same time.

The politician resembled an old continental musket, powerful on a shoot and, if the charge be moderately heavy, he kicked back with as much force as he shot forward, often more so, and if occasion required it, he found no difficulty in exploding and effected others sometimes in the same way.

The spokesman was like a weather-cock in the midst of a crazy March storm, wheeling in all directions; sniffing the breeze from every point of the compass and facing every thing that approached his particular front.

Young Abraham Lincoln as a Stump Speaker

Internally, he was a compound mixture of all kinds of moral liquors charged heavily with soda, so as to secure ready and powerful fermentation, hence his supply of intellectual froth and foam was next to inexhaustible.

In a musical sense, he was a combination of all instruments in an orchestra that depend upon active air (or perhaps wind) as a motive tone power.

The man on the stump was a scientific porcupine; he couldn't be taken by storm and if captured by slow siege, the victors would find themselves vanquished in the end.

Mr. Impromptu was full of nerves, so much in fact, that they hung out loosely all around him. Hence, he was very sensitive, so much so that his absorbing powers of sensation were much superior to all possible supply that his personal feelings were never wounded.

The speaker was an animation and vitality smelting furnace and hence, his words and even actions were as fully clothed with mutilating sparks as a fire-puffed cupola.

The stumpman was an automatic commentary on sliding literature and exercised all the privileges which poets and lecturers could have the presumption to claim mechanically. He was a most ingenious comic repair shop.

The non-descript individual was a scientific chime of human bells, and in a singular musical sense, he was not only a riddle, but a most skillful fiddle, capable of being tuned and keyed up to any other instrument demanded for whatever the special occasion.

Altogether, the impromptu stump speaker was quite a clever fellow; he sold in markets for several times his real worth. He got along well with the world, and the earth would feel sadly at a loss without him. Whilst others were not laughing at him, he was always amused… at others and himself. 

Read more

Over the years, fires have struck downtown Johnson City, leveling some buildings and causing minor damage to others. Perhaps the biggest one occurred in May 1905 and destroyed almost everything within the boundaries of E. Main, S. Roan, Jobe (replaced by State of Franklin Road) and Spring streets. One notable structure, Johnson City's First Baptist Church, known as “The Little White Church,” completely escaped the carnage in spite of the fact that it was wooden.

Another terrible flame occurred in March 1894 in the same block, except it was confined to the northeast end of Spring Street in close proximity to E. Main. The location would later become the site of the Sevier Theatre. 

That Monday at about 9 p.m., the fire alarm sounded and a black cloud of smoke quickly ascended from the heart of the city, drawing a huge crowd of anxious and curious onlookers. Fortunately, the fire was contained to an area of one-story corrugated iron buildings facing west. Cause of the fire would prove to be a tiny spark in a defective flue.

The smoke became so dense and suffocating that it was impossible to tell where the fire originated. However, it soon was determined that it started in the middle building (3), which was occupied by a bakery. (It should be noted that the date of the fire was 1894 while the attached map was produced in 1891, three years prior).

When the Fire Company arrived on the scene, the hook and ladder crew hastily penetrated the iron structures, opening as many holes as they could. Then, they simultaneously began pouring four or five good streams of water into the three buildings (2,3,4). The heat was so intense that initially little control was gained.

The heavy iron coverings on the three buildings were so stubborn to the fireman's axe and hook that the three businesses were pretty well-gutted before the fire crew could subdue their threatening adversary.

This news meant a change of plans to save the adjoining Post Office (1) or it would have undoubtedly been seriously damaged, if not completely destroyed. Fortunately, an alley/walkway ran along the north side of the Post Office (1), offering a possible shield to those businesses facing E. Main Street.

The three business buildings (2,3,4) were all occupied at the time the fire broke out. When it was assured that the structures could not be rescued from the flames, the dangerous task of removing inventory from them began with limited success.

Building (2) to the right of the Post Office (1) contained the grocery store of Taylor Brothers. They had $600 insurance on their stock and $500 on the building, which also belonged to them. Unfortunately, a comparatively small portion of their goods was saved for a loss of $1,500. 

Since the fire was not fully contained, the Taylor Brothers' owners purchased George R. Brown's restaurant across the street and began moving everything they could to the new facility. It was likely empty at the time.

The second room (3) from the Post Office (1) was occupied by Brown & Stinson's Philadelphia Bakery. These unfortunate gentlemen had no insurance and lost everything. They did not know exactly the amount of stock on hand, but they estimated it at $400. This was the property of Adam Bowman, and his allowing his policy to lapse a month or so earlier cost him about $800.

The last building (4) in the ill-fated block was occupied by Webb Brothers Meat Market. They too had no insurance and came out with a loss of $300. They opened up the next morning in the old Ball stand on Public Square.

 The fire was fortunately extinguished before it reached the adjoining brick wall of the Post Office or other buildings in the nearby vicinity.

I mentioned the Sevier Theatre. It was located at 113-17 Spring Street. It too met with a damaging fire in the 1960's and was razed… but that is another story. 

Read more

The welcomed announcement came from C. Howard McCorkle, superintendent of schools and directed to several hundred parents at a special meeting the previous night. The two schools were to be independent of the other, plus have separate athletic programs that would be in competition with one another. 

Speaking before the Junior High Parent-Teacher Association, Supt. McCorkle expressed his hope that all ninth grade students from both schools would eventually be part of the big new $2.5 million Science Hill High School just completed. 

However, by the following fall, it would be necessary to operate two junior highs, North Junior High and South Junior High, as the names they would soon acquire. The boundary line was defined as the Southern Railway and Market Street. Those on the north and east sides would attend North Junior High while those on the other side would go to South Junior High. Exception was made for any eighth and ninth grade boys studying industrial arts because South Junior High would not provide this training.

“Otherwise, South Junior High would offer as complete a program as the present North Junior High, “This program of dividing what was a student body of more than 100 students in the present Junior high was being significantly relieved by the restructuring. It had been so overcrowded that there was insufficient room to work, not to mention inadequate space to allow for growth,” McCorkle commented.

One stipulation was added – When the city much later found it feasible to abandon the present North Junior High building, it was to be “turned back to the city” for whatever use it could provide. That became a reality in 1974.

When a parent questioned the condition of the old Science Hill High School, without hesitation the superintendent described the facility as being one of the soundest buildings in town from a structural point of view. However, the superintendent properly noted one defect in the old high school that was not in the main building but in the gymnasium behind the school. It had been built on shale and had moved slightly. However, he stated that the problem was already in the process of being remedied.

South Junior High would have a complete music department, their own library, a home economics department and other pluses. Much of this was left over from the high school and was perfect for South Junior High School's needs.

Mr. McCorkle further promised that the new school would have its own sports programs, such that its teams would be in competition with those from the existing Junior High School. The present one would then have around 700 students and 600 more would be attending classes in the new school. A big plus for the change was that teachers would go with the students, which meant there was no need for an increased teaching staff.

However, beyond having selected Paul Slonaker to head South Junior High, he indicated that other personnel had not been assigned to a specific building. Mr. Slonaker, at the time, headed the industrial arts program at Science Hill. McCorkle promised all teachers that they would keep their own home room, meaning there would be no more “floating teachers,” which came as welcomed news.

The North Junior High guidance program continued under the direction of Jack McCorkle, who would divide his time between the two junior high schools.

McCorkle assured his well-attended audience that besides providing better overall benefits to students, the program was at once be aimed at providing more benefits for less money. PTA meetings would continue to be held in the massive Junior High auditorium with Mrs. Carl A. Jones presiding.

Read more

One of the pleasures of writing this column is meeting so many nice folks who interface with me about a subject near and dear to their heart. Such was the case of Kristi Bolding Seal, daughter of the late Wallace Clark Bolding, who passed away on Feb. 18, 2016, just one week prior to his 88th birthday. He once resided at 800 Wilson Avenue (at Frances Street) in Johnson City.

Wallace Clark Bolding

Apparently, Wallace was a stamp collector; I purchased 11 First Day (of Issue) Covers from Pat's Trading Post at 124 Spring Street around 1955 that had his name on each one. Since he would have been about 19 years old in 1947, he possibly sold them to Pat just prior to his going into military service or perhaps sometime after his return. 

Two of the later covers are addressed to “Private Wallace Bolding,” while the rest have “Wallace Bolding” on them. One shows his middle name – Clark. I have for years wondered who he was and what he looked like. Thanks to Kristi, now I know.

International Philatelic Exhibition

n March of this year, I received correspondence from Ms. Seal commenting on my First Day Covers article, the subject of my May 18, 2015 yesteryear column. She read it and surprisingly and joyfully saw her dad's name mentioned in it and sent me a note of appreciation. I was delighted to hear from her and learn more about the man whose name was neatly typed on the covers. She sent me a small photo of him that I placed in my First Day Covers collection.

According to Kristi, her dad was raised in Johnson City, Tennessee where he became an Eagle Scout, later receiving a law degree from Cumberland University and also served in the United States Army. After discharge from the military, he became a member of Johnson City Masonic Lodge #486, serving the organization for many years.

Tennessee's Admission to the Union

Wallace eventually put down his roots in Knoxville, Tennessee where he worked for Dun and Bradstreet until he retired. Ms. Seal further noted that her father “was a compassionate and gentle man who loved his family and had a 'greeting' for all he met.”

I informed Kristi that I would scan the 11 First Day Covers in color and e-mail them to her. She was delighted to receive them and made copies for several of her family members. I was likewise overjoyed to share them with her.

 

Honoring the Armed Forces (U.S. Marine Corps.)

The 11 covers that have prominently resided in my stamp collection for many years are as follows:

1. 100th Anniversary, International Philatelic Exhibition #1, May 17, 1947, 3-cent. 

2. 100th Anniversary, International Philatelic Exhibition #2, May 19, 1947, 3-cent.

3. 150th Anniversary, Tennessee Admission to the Union, Jun. 6, 1946, 3-cent.

4. Honoring the Armed Forces (U.S. Marine Corps), Sep. 28, 1945, 3-cent.

5. 100th Anniversary, Florida, Admission to the Union, Mar. 3, 1945, 3-cent.

6. Honoring the Armed Forces (U.S. Navy), Oct. 27, 1945, 3-cent.

7. 100 Anniversary, Joseph Pulitzer, Apr. 10, 1947, 3-cent.

8. 100 Anniversary, Journey of the Mormons, Jul. 24, 1947, 3-cent.

9. Air Mail Stamp, Mar. 26, 1947. 5-cent.

10. Air Mail Stamp, Apr. 29, 1947, 10-cent.

11. United Nations, Apr. 25, 1945, 5-cent. 

Read more

Around 1911, the Clinch Valley surroundings witnessed a pronounced business awakening and subsequent development, requiring railroads to carry coal to places of consumption and to tidal ports.

The older sections adjacent to Bristol, Abingdon and Johnson City were securing a limited benefit from the lucrative sources, which it was feared would lead into a state of depression and stagnation to those areas. The solution was to build a railroad to Clinch Mountain.

This  mountain ridge, which was situated in the states of Tennessee and Virginia in the ridge-and-valley section of the Appalachian Mountains, characterized by long, even ridges, with long, continuous valleys in between. They presented a veritable barrier to intercommunication. It was realized that, for a distance of 150 miles from the New River Gorge at Pearisburg to Speer's Ferry, this 4689-foot mountain fully impeded development of Southwest Virginia and East Tennessee.

One proposal suggested that a practicable route could be secured across the Clinch Mountain at Little Moccasin Gap, the point of divergence of one proposed line at Honaker, the objective point in this section being Bristol.

The distance from Bristol to Honaker by this route was estimated to be 45 miles, thus being 70 miles from Johnson City via Bristol to Honaker. The distance from Johnson City via the Carolina, Clinchfield and Ohio Railroad and the Clinch Valley Line to Honaker was 101 miles, meaning a saving of 31 miles utilizing the Little Moccasin Gap route.

The CC&O company at that time was under construction of the link from Clinch River to Elkhorn City, Ky. The distance from Johnson City via Bristol and Little Moccasin Gap to Damps Creek was about 60 miles. From Johnson City via the CC&O and N&W roads to Dumps Creek was 87 miles, being an excess of 27 miles over the Little Moccasin Gap route.

It was understood that in overcoming such an obstacle consisting of the backbone of one of the most important of the Appalachian range of mountains that serious physical features must of necessity be encountered and such exist in the crossing of the North Fork of Holston where in order to save distance and retain grade, a high railway bridge would be required, possibly exceeding 300 feet in height and of great length.

There would also be three areas of heavy grade of 116 feet per mile each, eight miles of this grade ascending from the Clinch River at the mouth of Dumps Creek towards Little Moccasin Gap, about five miles ascending from the North Holston towards Bristol. The successful operation of a like grade was illustrated in the working of the mountain division of the Baltimore & Ohio main line, west of Cumberland, Md.

Part of the route from Little Moccasin Gap to Clinch River at Dumps Creek was obtained through an instrumental survey of the portion from Little Moccasin Gap leading towards Bristol.

The cost of grading would come within the limits of usual mountain work where excellent alignment is an essential feature, which could safely be included.

This work utilized part of one of the main arteries of trade between the Ohio Valley, the Middle West and the South Atlantic Seaboard. Further, it held a commanding situation, which rivalry could not supplant. It also became  a link in one of the prospective trade routes demanded through the great work of the Panama Canal.

Janette Carter Waves to Train Personnel as the Big Engine Passes through Poor Valley

The success of this venture is illustrated years later by an appropriate quote from Janette Carter Jett, daughter of A.P. and Sara Carter, two members of the celebrated Carter Family. She was born and raised in the Clinch Mountains:

“I always loved the train,” she said. “It went by twice a day and I'd wait to wave at the engineer, until it went around the curve to Neal's Store and the Maces Springs Post Office. Then I'd take an old bucket and pick up little lumps of coal that had fallen off. They made a good hot fire, much easier than dragging out wood. I walked a lot along the railroad tracks.” Living With Memories, Janette Carter, Carter Family Memorial Music Center, Inc. Hiltons, VA, 1983. (Photo courtesy of Rita Forrester, daughter of Janette).

Read more

Designed by WPlook Studio