During Christmas, 1985, Tom Hodge addressed the subject of Halley's Comet in his column. “Several years ago while writing about the impending approach of Halley's comet in early 1986,” he said, “several local residents reported their own sighting of the 1910 comet to me.

By then, people were beginning to understand that the comet was a natural phenomenon that returned on a 75-year basis and not a harbinger of doom as some folks feared. Here are their comments:

1. Joseph Hufham, who was eight years old when Halley came calling in 1910, later became a journalist. “The day the earth was supposed to pass through the tail of the comet,” he wrote, “people were pretty well stirred up.” Newspapers had been telling folks about the comet for weeks. One newspaper related accounts of how some people had gone outside to view the comet and dropped dead. In those day before radio and television, there were numerous unfounded rumors spreading everywhere. Hufham further recalled standing on the porch of his father's store and looking up. The comet was yellow like the moon and bulged like an onion. The tail on it looked like an old cheap sweep broom, not much longer than the body. He could just visualize it swooping down and scrubbing on mountain tops.

2. Fred Shaw was 18 in 1910 and came home from working in the fields. Nobody was there so he called out, 'Whare's everyone at?” “Down in the cellar,” one of them yelled back. Sure enough, they were scared and huddled in the potato cellar. His wife remembers, “We weren't really scared; we just stood at the bedroom window and watched. But our mama told us, 'Y'all shut that window. Ah, but everyone didn't react that way.'”

3. Ruth Butler was 13 at the time and said her grandfather took all the children out after supper to see the comet. “He knew we'd been hearing all kings of superstitious stories about it, and he reassured us that none of them were true.”

4. French Bordeaux was seven in 1910. He recalled, “Our parents woke us up from a deep sleep that night and took us out on the porch to see the comet. It looked like a big old star, with a tail behind it. It didn't seem to worry me much, but it had some of our neighbors all worked up.”

5. Josephine Jacobs was 27 when the comet appeared. “I was so busy taking care of 15 children. I worked in the fields, picked cotton and peas, and cooked meals on an open hearth, which didn't leave much time to be gazing up at Halley's Comet. I was busy with life on earth.”

6. Mona Moore was a 20-year-old teacher in 1910. “Some people thought the comet's tail consisted of stardust,” she recalled, “and when the comet got close to earth, the tail would shed, and all that dust would throw the world off balance.”

7. Ryda Lennon rushed to her baby chickens. People were saying stars might be falling, so she took the hen off her biddies and covered them up good so that no stars would hit them. “I didn't seem to worry about people,” she said, “just my biddies.”

8. Van Benson noted that a friend brought an almanac by with a picture of the comet in it. It showed the celestial body looking like a snake and heading for earth. When they turned the page, they encountered a picture of Teddy Roosevelt with a baseball bat knocking the comet away. The caption read: “The comet found out that Teddy was on earth.” They all had a hearty laugh over that.

9. Richard Hall (82), a 7-year-old plowing his field, hollered at his mule, “Whoa, you mule. Look a-yonder.” He and the mule stared up at the comet that had a tail like a monkey. He remembers that people were shouting that it would burn the earth.

On the 1910 Halley's visit, word circulated in advance that the comet wouldn't be quite as visible that visit and maybe would be accepted with less fear and worry. The next Halley's arrival is scheduled for July 28, 2061; don't count on this writer being around to cover it.

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In mid-summer of 1891, Johnson City received a new much-needed water works system, which was long overdue that covered all parts of the growing city. For their faithful and untiring efforts in the construction of the new plant, the Watauga Water Company deserved the highest compliment.

Although time was limited and the city was hindered by injunctions and other obstacles, they fabricated the reservoir and put in an entire system of piping within less than two months. This was a significant undertaking that included more than four miles of main piping that extended from the mountains to the furnace and distributed to 13 miles of branch piping.

Although the targeted time established for the completion of the new venture was July 1, 1891, water began flowing into the distribution pipes on June 27, five days early. This beat the record on any other enterprise that has been undertaken in Johnson City. The Watauga Water Company, instead of asking for an extension, impressively fought obstacles and pushed the work to completion even before the appointed time.

There was hardly a person in the city who thought they could accomplish the undertaking so quickly. In fact, there were some individuals who, before the work began, were disposed to believe that the chosen company was not large enough for the task. But despite the beliefs of such individuals, the clear freestone springs of Buffalo Mountain took their rise in the midst of all the city's activity and the city continued to advance toward certain splendors of its future.

With the opening of the city water system came the great steel plant, the Carnegie Hotel, the completion of the Electric Light Plant, the Carnegie Iron Furnace, the JC&C Railroad, the Electric Street Railway and many other accomplishments significant to the city's expectations.

Numerous Newspaper Ads from 1891 

On the day of water flow, a newspaper reporter along with representatives of the Watauga Water Company and several gentlemen of the city, including members of the Board of Aldermen, traveled over a portion of the grounds for the purpose of inspecting the new hydrants.

Four carriages were dispatched to escort the party to the highest points traversed by the system. The hydrants were opened and, in every case, a large volume of water was forced out in a most satisfactory manner. One individual, a Mr. Boardman, tried to secure hose with which to make further tests, but was unable to get it so quickly.

There was, however, every indication from the pressure displayed through the hydrants that by means of hose, the water could be carried with great efficiency to the top of the highest buildings in the city, thus insuring protection against a fire that no chemical engine could provide.

All members of the party expressed themselves as being perfectly satisfied with the operations as they had observed them. The water came out in a great stream and with such force that it tore the ground up where it struck. There could be no doubt that Johnson City had as good a system of waterworks as could be found in the South, one that would address all its purposes for years to come.

The city's water works was not a trivial thing for a growing city; this fact was proven by all the recent buildings that had been constructed. Johnson City's old frame buildings slowly gave way to substantial brick structures. The pioneer garb of the city had been tossed aside. As purely as time passed, the city advance. Four years wrought significant wonders in the beautiful valley and it is still beautiful.

The Watauga Water Company proved itself worthy and received the confidence of the citizens. The eyes of the blind had been opened, and the incredulous mortals of Johnson City, many of whom had dreamed for years beneath the shadows of the great ore belt, were now awaked to the reality of what was going on around them.

The city was entering the march of progress and would be on top down the road when it reached a population of 25,000.   

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In 1888, Limestone, Tennessee was described as “a lovely, healthy village, sporting mineral and sulphur springs, good farms and good people.” A newspaper reporter, identified only as “Carswell,” stopped at the Limestone Depot, which was one of many railroad stations on the East Tennessee, Virginia and Georgia Railway.

“The old brown building,” he said, “was twice shelled during the Civil War, but it's wounds were patched. The old Vet looked all the worse, as it stood in the village among the most attractive buildings of any in the State.”

Along Railroad Avenue, the business houses presented an excellent showing, being modern in style and tastefully painted with names that were admirably displayed. The rear windows looked out upon the calm waters of the Limestone, with its sandy islands and wild and tame ducks harmoniously enjoying the lovely surroundings.

The writer further noted that on the opposite side of the river, the sandy shores gave way to meadow-like grasses, and on terrace heights above cottages and mansions, aiding the other's beauty by diversity. Gothic, Elizabethan and Queen Anne cottages, divided by garden spots, a comely schoolhouse and a glistening spire, as rising between miniature hills, presented a glorious sunset picture hinting that Limestone should have had a more relaxed name.”

He further noted that the village, blest with pure running waters from streams, rills and springs, boasted that there had never been a case of sickness, which could be attributed to water stagnation. Jockey Creek joined the Limestone by the picturesque mill and two miles southwest, the famous Nola Chuckey (Nolichucky) River flowed until it vanished in the French Broad River some 50 miles distant.

Two Limestone Advertisements from 1888

“Limestone had so many healing magnesia and sulphur springs that citizens treated them with little fanfare, said Carswell. “The Magnesia Springs, owned by Ebenezer Oliver & Co., were tested by analysis to have not only the advantage of the best properties, but also as being free from lethal taste or smell. Springs around Limestone, which received no attention, could have been the site of a summer resort.

The lands in Washington County that surrounded Limestone were owned by farmers whose cultivated fields stretched to within 1200 yards of the village bridges. Their names were J.B. Klepper, Miller Brothers, Pence Brothers, Dr. Dobson, W.M. Mitchell, John A. Keebler, E.B. & M.W. Mitchell, J.0. Broyles, John D. McCray, W.J. Williams, T.J. Williams, J.A. Bayless. J.F. Nelson, D.W. Remine, H.C. Remine, G.M. and M.A. Gillispie, T.M. Brabson, David Byerly and W.B. Glaze.

Mr. C further noted that “Active work is being done by T.A. Gillispie to further the interests of the Farmer's Alliance, which is a prosperous lodge at Limestone. Two churches represent the North and South divisions of the Methodist Church. A pleasant parsonage is occupied by the Rev. George D. French, who is regarded as being a true Christian and deservedly popular gentleman. The Rev. N.S. Huffather, who, during a long ministerial life, followed the Good Sheppard also had his home in Limestone. It is noted that both congregations appear to have forgotten the antagonisms which caused a terrible war.”

The Limestone School had a very able principal in the person of Professor W. Ramsey and an able preceptress (female principal or teacher), Miss Huffaker. Although two teachers taught 125 students in the poor economy, it eventually exhibited remarkable growth, causing its future to appear beautiful and bright. The citizens had great hopes as to the town's future because mineral springs and excellent manufacturing power was backed by woods of oak, hickory and pine creating a paradise.

Carswell concluded by writing: “All passenger trains stopped at Limestone and the station had night and day operators, which indicated the railroad company had respect for the little community. They shipped cattle, mules, lumber and mineral water almost daily, while incoming freights for half a dozen stores and a thickly populated countryside profited the railroad's finances.”  

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I recently came across an April 1985 newspaper clipping written by former Press-Chronicle business editor, Mary Alice Basconi. It concerned an early business in Johnson City – Leach Motor Co.

The endeavor started when Paris Leach went into business for himself in 1911, with one of the first garages in Johnson City to service gasoline engines. He later sold cars, such as the Hupmobile, from a building at 415 W. Market Street.

A 1944 City Directory lists Leach as an “automobile repairer” at 111 Ashe Street, the site of the family's “old home place.” The location, developed in 1931, became his business home. A 1948 directory shows him as the owner of Leach Motor Co.

Paris's legacy to sons Kyle and Harold was his business that withstood years of capricious trends in the automotive industry. Later, he wisely steered his trade along sales of a timeless product: the Jeep, known cleverly as “the ubiquitous World War II four-wheeled personification of Yankee ingenuity and cocky, can-do determination.”

Kyle and Harold Leach with Their Parents' Photos on the Wall Behind Them

“When we went into it,” Harold said, “it was the first 4-wheel drive vehicle for civilian use. Jeeps don't look much different today, although other manufacturers produce vehicles of the same style now.”

Harold recalled that customers came from North Carolina, Virginia and throughout Northeast Tennessee, which included sportsmen, fishermen and farmers along with people who resided in “the real, real rough country.”

“One fellow who owned a farm,” he said, “took one of our little Jeeps, put a plow on it and used it as a tractor.” Others took advantage of the recreational virtues of a Jeep. Leach Motors even sponsored a club, the “The East Tennessee 4-Wheelers,” for Jeep devotees who liked to explore wild mountain trails.

According to Harold, “We went everywhere from Tellico Plains, the Erwin mountains, Elizabethton, places where you could hardly walk. We'd circle the Jeeps up like a wagon train and have lunch. Those were fun times.”

In 1945, Kyle related to his father that, “I don't want to work for you, but I'd go into business with you someday.” Paris Leach told his son to knock out a wall in the building and add an equal addition to it. Kyle did as instructed.  

For many years, the business had no hydraulic lift. To service vehicles, they drove a car over a pit and worked from below. Kyle said with progress the old pot-bellied stove was finally done away with and the pits were replaced with hydraulic units.

With the passing of the years, the Leach brothers, who grew up and labored in their father's shop, began looking forward to retirement. Leach Motor Co.'s turquoise-blue buildings on Ashe Street were sadly put up for sale or rent.

1960 Ad from the Science Hill High School Wataugan

In 1983, the brothers sold their Jeep franchise to another car dealer and piece by piece began selling off equipment and parts, even shelves. In March 1985, Kyle sold two of his father's first purchases for the company: an old vice and a mechanical hoist from the pre-hydraulic age.

“I think that had we not been at retirement age, the business would have held on,” added Harold. He noted that his days would soon be filled with fishing, golf, square-dancing and travel.

The brothers mentioned one loyal nameless employee who had been with the firm since 1946, even through the dismantling of the operation. “He's sort of like an old horse,” Harold said in a flattering manner. “After you work him for so long, you take the bridle off and he still goes into the stable.”

In early March of 1985, the brothers wrapped up their work by answering calls from would-be renters or buyers and watching old equipment being hauled away. Remaining in the family were portraits of their parents and a wall full of pictures from “The East Tennessee 4-Wheelers” past expeditions.

Harold recalled those monthly trips and how Jeep men from Cincinnati even came down once to attend the events. Harold's concluding words to Basconi were “Leach meant Jeep. It really, really did.” 

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I am blessed with readers who send me old newspapers. In my voluminous collection of old papter, I recently came across a Saturday, August 17, 1929 edition of the Johnson City Chronicle, which was yellowed and brittle with age, requiring delicate handling. As I skinned through the edition, I noted several things that were unique to that era.:

The newspaper that called itself, “A Newspaper of Character,” sold for three cents with a yearly subscription of $7.00 (Sunday and daily except Monday). According to the paper, Johnson City’s population that year was 35,690.

The front page contained national and international news; you had to turn the pages to find local news. One article dealt with the dirigible, Los Angeles, touring New England. The blimp was to leave Lakehurst, NJ, which was eight years prior and at the same location as the Hindenberg Dirigible disaster of 1937.

The attention-grabbing item on the sports page was under the subtitle, “Yanks Trounce Tigers for 12 to 2 Triumph.” Babe Ruth (left field) got his 32nd homer of the season, while Lou Gehrig (1st base) accounted for two runs. In local sports news, the Troupers from Soldiers' Home and the Mountaineers from Bristol were scheduled to play on Sunday in at Soldier’s Home.

The importance of local farming in 1929 was noted in a section titled, “Weekly Farm Number,” with two strong messages: “Don’t Raise Products You Can’t Sell” and “Give the Land a Chance to Work For You by Rotating Crops.” Another ad on page 11 proclaimed, “Erosion takes 20 times as much fertility from the soil as the growing of crops. Tis better to leave the farm than let it leave you. Permanent pasture is the answer.”

The article, “Fire Alarm Caused By Flying Sparks,” caught my eye because it described a fire at the American Cigar Box Company. My interest was fueled because my grandfather, Earl Blaine Cox, worked at this company in 1929. The plant was situated on Cherry Street, conveniently located near the railroad tracks and east of the large parking lot on South Roan Street.

Typical of this newspaper was the Austin Springs social calendar of events with people going on vacation, receiving friends in their home and “motoring” to a nearby city. When is the last time you heard that word used?

An amusing article dealt with the destruction of a local 75-gallon moonshine still from someone referred to as “King of the Moonshiners.” Allegedly, half of the moonshine was poured out while the rest was hauled in as evidence.

It is surprising how many businesses were in the 1929 paper that were still around when I was growing up in Johnson City such as Parks Belk, Kings, and Dosser's.

Lucy Pouder was mentioned in the social section. The Pouders were highly successful businessmen of that era. My Grandfather Cox once worked for Mr. Pouder when he owned a combination furniture store and funeral parlor located in the same location as the Charles Store in downtown Johnson City. He would sell furniture one minute and then assist in a funeral the next minute.

Reference is made to the John Robinson’s Circus coming to Johnson City for two shows. I was a frequent visitor to the area circuses in my youth but don’t remember this one. 

The Johnson City Chronicle gave away two free swimming tickets to two people to patronize the Sur Joi Swimming pool located near the corner of Watauga Avenue and W. Market Street. They would hide the names of the two winners among the classified ads. If you looked on page 33, second column, under “Apartments For Rent,” you will see the name, “Miss Lillian Hodges.” If you look over in the fourth column, under “Houses For Sale”, you would find, “Mr. Ralph Young.”

My great uncle, Fiddlin’ Charlie Bowman and His Brothers routinely played old-time music to attract customers there when it was called the Watauga Swimming Pool. I would be interested in knowing from my readers how the Sur-Joi acquired its name. I grew up during World War II in the Gardner Apartments, which overlooked this popular pool. It later became the  Carver Pool.

The A&P grocery store stood for “The Great Atlantic & Pacific Tea Company.” I would love to sink my teeth into one of their advertised large, cold, ripe watermelon for 55 cents. Remember how we use to “plug” watermelons to sample them before purchasing them? That is a thing of the past; today we take “pot luck.”

As a former employee of Eastman Kodak Company, I took interest in the $.98 Hawkeye Camera which, when developed, were 2.25 by 3.25 inch black and white photos. I also remember buying two-quart hot water bottles for $.98, same price as the camera. We filled those rubber bags with water so hot that you would almost burn yourself, until they had lost enough heat to become quite cozy in bed.

The local bus schedule from ET&WNC Motor Transportation Company was quite interesting with trips to Asheville, Cranberry, Elizabethton, Bristol, and Erwin. Also, the Seals Coach Line offered trips between Johnson City and Appalachia with stops in between.

I was delighted to see my old friends Jiggs and Maggie again. I loved that comic strip “Bringing Up Father.”

Three downtown movie theatres were advertised: the Criterion, the Majestic and the Liberty. The Deluxe Theatre (later called the Tennessee) was not shown. The Majestic featured both a movie and a variety of vaudeville acts. Over time, theatres made the transition from being completely vaudeville to offering a combination of movie and vaudeville entertainment before becoming movie theatres.

I spent many a pleasant Saturday afternoon at the Liberty Theatre watching my favorite western heroes on the screen that included a cartoon and the next thrilling chapter of my favorite serial, “Thunda, King of the Congo,” starring Buster Crabbe (of Flash Gordon fame). What fantastic memories!

As previously noted, this newspaper came out about ten weeks before the stock market crash. When I read the financial page, I searched for clues of the impending crash. Perhaps the title of the article, “Bulls Advance Many Issues To Record Levels,” was the best hint. People were in a buying frenzy, driving up stock prices to artificially highs and paying for them on credit. Stock volume that day was quite high. The problem came when the stocks dropped so dramatically and people had to pay with money they didn’t have.

Today's excursion is a brief journey back to the golden days of yesteryear. I hope you enjoyed it. I can't get my mind off that 55-cent plugged tasty watermelon and summer is a long way off.

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An October 1895 headline in The Comet newspaper proclaimed these eye-catching words: “Only a Few More Days Until Walter L. Main's Grandest and Best Show Will be Seen in all Its Glory.” 

The big show came as announced, delighting thousands of expectant attendees who enthusiastically clamored for admission to the huge tent, which was reported to be the largest ever constructed at that time.

No exhibition that had ever visited Johnson City was so comprehensive in its methods of advertising or had attracted so much attention by its posted pictorial wall announcements.

The finest lithographed printing ever seen in this section had been scattered profusely over the entire countryside for miles around for people to scrutinize. Even a brief moment's reflection would readily convince a resident that none but a meritorious amusement enterprise, backed by unlimited capital, could afford to do such extensive advertising, something unheard of in those days.

Advertisement for Walter L. Main's Show in Johnson City

Residents were gratified to learn that even the marvelous specimens of “printer's ink” could not begin to convey the story of the remarkable wonders to be seen in person at the upcoming event.

The attraction possessed such well-known features as Miss Gracie Thomas, the world's greatest equestrienne; “Wallace,” the only lion that actually rode a horse and an elephant; Mr. Frank Miller, who stood at the head of the bareback riders of profession; the Four Rosaria Brothers, Europe's foremost acrobats; Stirk and Zeno, acknowledged monarchs of the air; a double troupe of Royal Japanese performers; Miss Dollie Miller, the greatest lady aerial performer on either side of the Atlantic; the three famous French grotesques, known as the Renos; a troupe of 20 humanly educated horses and ponderous elephants, besides many other unique novelties.

It was also a well-know fact that the great shows presented the finest zoological collection in America and a hippodrome of unsurpassed merit. The impressive street parade, which moved from the showground promptly at 10 a.m. was, by itself, worth the price of a ticket, as well as traveling many miles to see the extravaganza.

The sublime culmination of the art of training was marvelously shown in the equestrian performance, executed by 63 thoroughbreds under the guidance of Joe Berris, America's most famous equine educator appearing with the Walter L. Main Show.

The act introduced the finest specimens of American and Arabian thoroughbred horses executing the grandest and greatest performances ever imagined. It was advertised that a positively wonderful display of such categorical novelty, absolute originality, unrivalled magnificence and thrilling interest would forever blot out forever previous animal exhibitions.

There were literally rings within rings, platforms on top of platforms and upon all were horses concurrently performing concurrently and moving in five circles in opposite directions. This feature alone was said to be worth more than the price of admittance.

The Roman Hippodrome part of the entertainment was not only interesting but exciting, consisting of chariot, barrel and obstacle races, Roman standing races, cowboy and pony competition, lady riders and many other features too abundant to mention. There was a profusion of horses, prompting the comment that no show could have finer ones anywhere in the world.

The menagerie, always a popular attraction especially with youngsters, was a splendid exhibit of the animal kingdom and was also a noticeable feature that there were no fakes or robbing schemes permitted on the grounds. The entire show was clean cut and of high standards throughout, with performers selected from the upper ranks of professional people and stood second to none.

If the above text was accurate, the Walter L. Main Show must have been quite an attraction for Johnson City and surrounding areas in 1895.

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Municipal quarrels are a thing of modern day and long-ago; only the magnitude of the dollar amount has changed. In April 1897, a local newspaper, The Staff, contained an inflammatory editorial:

“The people of Johnson City are all poor and they know it. They also know that much of the vaunted wealth of Jonesboro has been created by litigation and other business ventures originating in Johnson City. For instance, an unjust system of taxation levies a tribute of $2.50 on every taxpayer in Johnson City, while it charges only $.85 on the taxpayers of Jonesboro.”

The publication noted that those were actual facts and that the citizens living outside of Jonesboro would do well to ponder them in order that they may see which of these towns had more than borne its fair share of taxation. They would then realize that one town had grown rich at the expense of the balance of the county.

The editorial challenged the newspaper to point out how, why and wherein the litigation originating in Johnson City had added so much to the wealth of Jonesboro. Also, they wondered why the taxpayers of Johnson City would allow this injustice to continue without an inquisition. The Staff's clipping very likely grabbed their attention.

Southern Railway Train Schedule in 1897

“If our contemporaries do not know how much Johnson City contributes to and receives from the school fund,” it stated, “they have an easy way of finding out. The fact of the matter is, many of them don't want to know, as the publication of these statistics for the Ninth and Fifteenth Districts would make such an loathsome comparison that the people outside of these two districts would open their eyes in astonishment.”

They did not report how much Johnson City contributed to the school fund, but to set the minds of those who wished to know, they gave a few figures on the subject. Looking at 1896 figures, for instance, it revealed that the assessment for school purposes in Jonesboro's Ninth Civil District was $3,821.12; however that district received from the school fund $4,134.70, thus showing that the district received $313.58 more than they were assessed.

But this was not all. It was a well-known fact that the Ninth District was delinquent in about $1,000 for the year on their assessment for school purposes.

In Johnson City's Fifteenth District, the assessment for schools was $1,215.87 and received from the school fund $1144,81 or $71.06 less than paid. 

The Jonesboro magistrates' proposition was to build two county roads, one from Fall Branch to Jonesboro and the other from Boon's Creek to Jonesboro, which was labeled as “a sublime spectacle of unmitigated gall.”

Typical Johnson City Advertisements from 1897

The Magistrates of Jonesboro were not alone in their desire to have good roads in the county. Any student would readily tell The Staff that they alone could not build roads to or from any points in the county. It was the duty of the magistrates of the county to provide this service for all the people and common sense dictated that the proper thing was to first build them to the county seat, which was where citizens frequently traveled.

Of course, it would not be a “sublime spectacle of unmitigated gall” for the magistrates of Johnson City to propose to build a road from their city to Fall Branch or Boon's Creek. That would be acceptable and full of wisdom and justice to the people of the county.

The paper daringly stated that the insinuation that Jonesboro was jealous of Johnson City was without foundation; in fact, it maintained that the people of Jonesboro would rejoice to see Johnson City prosper. However, they did not propose that the county build up the town at the expense of the remainder of the district.

We can only speculate how long the $313.58 dispute lasted. 

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Today's column is the second of three that deals with some early 1900 Johnson City enterprises. I have attempted to identify the location of each, plus (in parenthesis) include  some later businesses that occupied that same site. Slightly paraphrased comments are in present tense.

City Stables

The intersection of Ashe, Cherry and Buffalo streets: The City Stables, owned by W.T. Givens and conducted by W.C. Snapp, manager, easily take the lead in Johnson City liveries. Mr. Givens is a Kentuckian, an accurate judge of horseflesh and will have none but sound, swift, young roadsters in his stables. Since opening his livery in 1900, he has established a large patronage, owing to the fact that his turnouts are serviceable, comfortable and handsome. His stables measure 135 x 90 feet, and he has ample accommodation for 100 horses. Mr. Givens also conducts a feed stable, which is largely patronized as all horses are given the best care and attention.

Will I. Hart & Co.

101 E. Market (Idol Inn, Southern Cafe, Byrd's Restaurant): This large shop is located in the heart of the downtown business section. The Comet has the pleasure of advertising Will I. Hart, our noted manufacturer of hand-made harnesses, saddles, bridles, collars, whips, leggings and all kinds of horse millinery. Mr. Hart has spent a number of years in the harness business.

In 1894, the business was established and since its inception, trade hasincreased tremendously in all parts of the city and surrounding county. The business affords four experienced men with full-time employment. Mr. Hart rewards his help with liberal wages and in return receives first-rate work from them. He has resided here for the past 25 years and does an extensive business. He has garnered a large acquaintance and is held in high esteem by patrons.

S.B. White

111 Spring Street (Sanitary Barber Shop, Sports News Billiard Parlor): Our many prosperous merchants are highly pleased to note the successful season this business is enjoying. Among the most prominent is S.(Samuel) B. White, the well-know stove and tinwork merchant, who is hauling a complete line of china and queensware, including lamps and common and anti-rust tinware.

General repair work is also done in spouting and guttering. Fancy china is sold all over the city and county. Mr. White's business has increased by 30 per cent since January 1st. The Comet recommends this store as first-class in every respect with which to do business. Mr. White also does furnace work on a large scale.

Johnson City Foundry and Machine Works

Cherry Street and corner of Earnest Street: The Johnson City Foundry and Machine Works, organized in 1884, has the distinction of being the second established industry in Johnson City and has been closely identified with its present growth and perpetuity. At this great foundry, wood-working machinery, water wheels, brass and iron castings and forgings are manufactured. General repair work is also accomplished.

The abundance of raw material within easy access and an unlimited fuel supply makes this city an unsurpassed manufacturing location. Johnson City Foundry and Machine Co. was among the first manufacturers to observe and reap advantage from this fact. The great plant, which they erected, covers an area of over two acres. This results in 75 men gaining steady employment and a pay-roll, which represents $550 per week, is considered most liberal.

The company is daily in receipt of large contracts from every part of the South, and the plant is in continual operation. The officers are as follows: J. Allen Smith, president; G.W. Sitton and general manager; W.B. Johnson, secretary and treasury; and B.J. Sitton, master mechanic. All are local men and to their united and individual efforts, a great measure of the city's progress and success is due.

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The sixth grade was to grammar schools what the twelfth grade was to the high schools. We were the “seniors” of Henry Johnson School. Each year, both sixth grades presented a play to the rest of the school. Miss Boring was in charge of the production and wrote all of the plays. She was ably assisted by Miss Gordon Grubbs, the other sixth grade teacher. This production was a big deal for Miss Boring, as she put a great deal of effort into it.

Plaques on Each Side of the Front Door Entrance to the Old School

For reasons I cannot explain, Miss Boring chose me for one of the lead parts in the play. I was certainly no actor plus I was worried about stage fright. I even got nervous during practice. I was, of all things, a traveling medicine salesman dispensing my wares from a little bag that I carried with me.

In addition, I had a crude “magic” act that I performed on stage. Miss Boring insisted I do it, but I preferred to do my recitation of the song, “Life Get's Teejus, Don't it?,” but that was not to happen. Perhaps she objected to song's spelling and grammar.

In addition, several class members danced the Virginia Reel, from Wayne King's hit song, “Josephine.” Before I was assigned a lead role, I practiced dancing with the group. Later, to my delight, Miss Boring pulled me from the dance routine, but, to my dismay, assigned me a part in the play. At the end of the frolic, we all sang “The Ballad of Davy Crockett,” which was very popular then.

We had practice rehearsals for weeks, yet within a week of the performance did not have our lines memorized to Miss Boring's satisfaction. One afternoon, she got rather direct with us, taking out her wrath on us during our “duty time” while I was erasing and washing the blackboard.

Despite Miss Boring's worries, the play went off without a hitch, except for one brief moment when I forgot a line during my traveling salesman routine, and someone behind me whispered it to me. I don't think anybody noticed.

Let me turn the clock ahead about 12 years. I became acquainted with a lady who was kin to my former teacher. I related to her that she was one of my outstanding teachers from the early 1950s. When she offered to take me to her house for a visit, without hesitation, I accepted her generosity. She called and received permission for us to come to her residence at 112 W. 11th Street.

When Miss Boring came to the door, I instantly recognized her. Although she had aged somewhat and moved much slower, she seemed surprised and pleased to see us. I was introduced to her as one of her former students from the 1954-55 class. As expected, she did not appear to remember me.

I figured if I mentioned some of the happenings that occurred in the sixth grade, she might recall me. When I brought up the subject of the school plays that she wrote and directed each spring, she immediately lit up, especially when I told her one of them was centered around Davy Crockett.

Miss Boring noted that she had written a school finale play each year that she taught at Henry Johnson School and had kept copies of each one in her home hall closet but had lost one; she lost the play our class was in. I wanted so much to see it. 

I described the production to her, including my traveling salesman routine, the Virginia Reel, my magic show and the Davy Crockett theme. She still did not remember the play, nor did she remember me.

I called out the names of several of my classmates to her. The only two she remembered were a couple of troublemakers,  Harold and Johnny (last names withheld to protect the guilty), the latter having his own seat in the southwest corner of room near a window.

Although this great lady did not remember me, I certainly knew her and I would not have missed our visit for the world. After a pleasurable but somewhat abbreviated stay, we departed. This was the last time I would see her, but she is permanently etched in my memory. This great teacher passed away about a year later.

If any of my readers were in Miss Boring's class and would like to comment about her, I welcome hearing from you.

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In July 1903, Ex-Gov. Robert L. Taylor (“Our Bob”) journeyed to Bristol on a short business trip, vowing to return that same day and bring his two small sons, Bob and David, home from their visit with Uncle Alf at Johnson City.

Before he left, Gov. Taylor was seen at the Southern Depot (between W. Market and N. Roan) by a Journal and Tribune reporter, surrounded by a party of admirers, both Democrats and Republicans and in the best of spirits.

When asked if he was a candidate for the Senate, the cheerful ex-governor said that he was running in the interest of Senator Bate, whom he wished to succeed himself. “I am having a good deal of fun from the boys in this race,” he said. “They can’t see how I can possibly be for Senator Bate. Those who go against him will soon find out why I am for him.

“I am not ready to go to the Senate yet,” he continued. “I haven’t the money enough, but I am heaping it up in this political sense awful fast now. I don’t want to go to the Senate this time. I am like the drunk who staggered around and held to the inside of his bedroom door, saying he would jump into his bed… the next time it came around.

“Seriously, I see no reason why this old man, rich in years and honor, should be turned out at this time if he wants to stay in. I would have defeated him several years ago if I could have, but ‘bless your life, honey,’ as the old saying goes, ‘we were both younger then than we are now.’

“The time has passed by now to defeat Senator Bate. He has grown old and with the weight of years come the sentiment of war, which is the strongest in the (emotion) of any people. I went against Shiloh once, but I will never do it again. I am converted; the sentiments of war are stronger than (those) of peace.

Johnson City Newspaper Advertisement from 1903

“Senator Bate is a much stronger candidate now. Whatever I can do for him, I will do. I would not mind having the honor of succeeding him, but it is a case of ‘after you, my dear Gaston,’ with me, and I can wait till the old man retires. I used to think if I didn’t get my young and heated blood into the senate chamber at once, the whole country would go to the bow-wows.

But I have got over that feeling and the longer I put off my race, the less I am inclined to crowd out an old man who has been just as good a Democrat as the country ever produced and a bravo and honored soldier as well.

“You can tell them I am for Bate, first, last and all the time. I have had several representatives from headquarters come to me and try to tell me what a big mistake I was making by being for Bate. I can’t see it that way. The only mistake I ever made was running against him in 1892 and I don’t care to repeat it.”

When asked for an interview, Mr. Taylor pulled off his hat and exposed his bare frontal to the zephyrs, which blow through the Southern station at times. He gave his hearers a merry twinkle of the eye and replied, “I reckon I can. About all I can do is to get interviewed. That’s the only way the poor fellows have of keeping the people from getting them.

“We would ill have been deep beneath oblivion’s dark wave, politically, if it had not been for the kindness of the newspaper reporters who come to our rescue. They used to know us when we were in our glory and are too charitable to pass us by now that we are reposing on the shelf, maybe forever.

“We poor old fellows live in the future, and the newspapers are after that kind of news, so I suppose we can play into each other’s hands in that way. About all, that is left to an ex-politician is the past and the future. Mankind, in general, lives in memory or hope. The present is never fully appreciated.”

That is quite a depiction, Mr. Taylor.

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