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. 

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.

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.”  

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.

In early 1933, Johnny Roventini, who stood 47 inches tall and weighed a mere 59 pounds, was touted by the New Yorker Hotel, where he worked, as the smallest bellboy in the world. One night, he became acquainted with two advertising agents for the Philip Morris Company, who had conjured up a publicity stunt for a cigarette commercial. They offered Johnny a dollar if he would locate a Mr. Philip Morris in the hotel. In actuality, there was no one there by that name.

Roventini strode through the hotel shouting, “Call for Philip Mor-raaas.'' He exaggerated the second syllable using an exaggerated, drawn out “raaas” instead of a quick “ris.” “I just went around the lobby yelling my head off,” said Johnny, “but I disappointedly couldn't get Philip Morris to answer my call.”

Johnny soon received a lucrative offer from the company, but he was hesitant about accepting it. After all, he had a decent financial contract with the hotel, drawing a salary of $15 a week, plus an additional $10 in tips. He decided to think it over and reportedly told them, “I'll have to ask my mother.” After delaying his decision for several months, Johnny resigned his hotel employment on September 16, 1933 and signed a lifetime contract with the Philip Morris Company.

Thus began a career that landed Roventini a lifetime contract and an annual salary of up to $50,000. Johnny, who always appeared in his short-jacketed bellboy outfit, became Philip Morris Company's “living trademark.'' The little guy once estimated that, over the years, he called out the cigarette slogan more than a million times and shook hands with about the same number of people.

Johnny was first heard on the air on “The Ferde Grofe Show,” who was a composer, arranger and pianist.  Stardom came to him almost overnight and sales success of the Philip Morris brand followed suit as both skyrocketed to fame. Johnny saw the company grow from a single product manufacturer to a multi-brand, highly diversified corporation.

To protect Johnny and the Philip Morris Company, the company's contract forbid him from appearing in public without a bodyguard; riding the subway during rush hours was also forbidden. And for fear of kidnappers, his home address was kept undisclosed. The company was taking no chances. Johnny was indeed a top salesman and a most valuable property. His Cinderella rise to fame led him to appear on Philip Morris radio programs with outstanding orchestras.

The little fellow began playing key roles in many great radio productions: Horace Heidt's “Youth Opportunity Hour,” “It Pays To Be Ignorant,” “Ladies Be Seated,” Johnny Olson's Luncheon Club,” Walter Kiernan's popular “One Man's Opinion,” “Crime Photographer,” “Music You'll Remember,” “The Kate Smith Show,” Johnny Mercer's “Call for Music,” “Break the Bank,” Ralph Edward's “This is Your Life,” “The Mel Torme Show,” “The Rudy Vallee Show,” “Candid Microphone” (forerunner of television's “Candid Camera”) and others.

Every Philip Morris show featuring Johnny became just as famous for its closing line as for its opening: “This is Johnny again, returning now to the thousands of store windows and counters all over America. Look for me. I'll be waiting for you. Come in and, of course, “Call for Phil-ip Mor-rees.”

At the height of his radio career, Johnny was in high demand for major public events such as fairs, conventions, trade shows, club meetings, festivals, military parades and the like. He found it impossible to attend everything, so it was during that period that four look-alike assistants, known as “Johnny Juniors,” were employed to represent him at some of the functions.

No matter where he appeared, he was invariably asked to give his famous call, which he did. To please his worldwide audiences, Johnny learned to deliver the words in French, German, Spanish, Swedish, Italian and Chinese.

People crowded to see him; it was said that when they saw him, their heart began beating a little faster. It wasn't his size or the lack of it, but rather the fact that he made people feel what he was made of – goodness and greatness, as well as the warmth and gentleness that was the little man himself. He was created as a trademark for the Philip Morris Company but became an American legend. For 25 years, he walked among his fans and they became richer for it.

In later years, when Johnny was asked to name some of the memorable ladies with whom he worked, he responded with Barbara Stanwyck, Tallulah Bankhead, Rosalind Russell, Deborah Kerr, Paulette Goddard, Constance Bennett, Dorothy Lamour, and the two incomparable great stars, Madeleine Carroll and Marlene Dietrich?”

After the war, the radio shows began to bow to television, and for a time Johnny introduced early Philip Morris video shows such as “My Little Margie” (Gale Storm), “Tex and Jinx; (Tex McCrary and Jinx Falkenburg), “Candid Camera” (Allen Funt), “I Love Lucy'” (Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz), “The Red Skelton Show,” “The Jackie Gleason Show,” “Hazel,” “Hogan's Heroes,” “Thursday Night at the Movies,” “Slattery's People,” “The Loner” and even “The CBS News with Walter Cronkite.”

According to Johnny, “Lucy was my real love; our friendship has been a lasting one and the memories of our having worked together are among my fondest. She not only was a great comedienne but a great lady as well.” Johnny transitioned effectively from the role of a radio and television performer to that of a roving ambassador of good will man for Philip Morris.

When Johnny Roventini died on Dec. 3, 1998, the New York Times commented in his obituary notice: “Johnny's fame as an advertising legend was enhanced by an ever-present smile and outstretched hand that won him friends wherever he went.” On that sad day, the highly recognized “Call for Philip Mor-raaas” went silent forever. In all those years, he never found Mr. Morris, but he found something else – a world of people who greatly loved and adored him.

The Thursday, August 5, 1897, edition of The Comet newspaper contained some depressing news about the death of a young boy whose name was Mayne Williams, the son of Judge and Mrs. Samuel Cole Williams.

The unidentified journalist noted that it was not often that a writer would be called upon to chronicle a sadder death than that of little Mayne, which occurred the previous Friday afternoon, causing his parents' hearts to be aching and burdened-down with grief, all the more so because the grim reaper made his visit to the home with no advanced warning of his coming.

Mayne Williams Library at N. Roan and E. Market, Young Mayne at about the Time of His Death

In the lad's playful rambles, he encountered a package of pills and swallowed a considerable number of them. When he was discovered soon afterward by his grandmother, the youngster was lying on the floor and told her he was sick. On being questioned, his innocent reply was: “I took a whole lot of medicine; I'm so sorry.”

Everything that loving, human hands and professional skill could suggest to rescue the little sufferer was to no avail and within 40 minutes from the time he was found, his innocent life had gone out. Just as the setting sun veiled itself with mountain peaks, the black pall of grief, denser than darkest night, had shrouded a cheerful, happy home.

Mayne was deceased, and his pure young soul had flown to its heritage of eternal life. Family and friends mourned with those who wept, but rejoiced in the fact that,  beyond the somber shadows of the tomb, there is eternal day.

The following funeral announcement was posted in the newspaper: “In Memoriam: The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord. To the believer, these are precious and inspiring words. Life is full of events, which bring them vividly home to our hearts.

“Little Mayne Williams, was born August 27, 1893 and died suddenly July 30, 1897. He had eaten or swallowed a number of sugar-coated quinine pills, in all 40 grains, perhaps and in 40 minutes, he was limp in death. He was in perfect health, a bright and beautiful boy of a remarkably inquisitive turn of mind, full of life, an affectionate and dutiful child and, naturally, an object of warm parental love.

“The fond parents were already planning for his future education and training, cherishing glad and high hopes of a noble and happy manhood for him they loved so dearly. But in a short hour, all their hopes were blighted forever, touching the human side of this brief, God-given life.

“It had fulfilled, perhaps, the divine purpose here, insofar as little Mayne was concerned; and so the blessed Lord takes back to Himself in harmony with other gracious purposes He has concerning both him and the bereaved parents. May the Lord sanctify this sore affliction to the good of all concerned.

“Grieve not with hopeless sorrow, since our Father in Heaven assures us, there is rest for the little sleeper,

“Joy for the ransomed soul; Peace for the lonely weeper, Dark though the waters roll.

“Weep for the little sleeper, Weep, it will ease thy heart; Can not make the dull pain deeper, Twill help to heal the smart.

“The dear Savior hath found him. Laid him upon His breast; Folded his arms around Him, Hushed him to endless rest.

“Think of him henceforth as a treasure removed, but yours still, in Heaven. J.S. Kennedy, Pastor.”

Soon afterward, the Williams family posted this note of appreciation in the newspaper: “We cannot refrain from acknowledging, in this public manner, our debt of gratitude to our neighbors and friends, the sympathy and kindness so generously bestowed in the hours of sore affliction we were called to experience for in the death of our little son, Mayne.” It was signed by Mr. and Mrs. S.C. Williams. 

Today's column is directed to my lady readers, but here's hoping the gentlemen will get a chuckle out of it as well.

An 1886 newspaper offered fashion advise to the fair damsels of that era. The title of it was “Do Not Wear,” and provided 19 suggestions for “the better half” to improve their appearances. Not being familiar with some of the items mentioned, I added a few words of explanations in parenthesis where I deemed appropriate. These items were in the newspaper 129 years ago: 

“1. Do not wear a sailor hat unless you are sure it is becoming; if not suited to your style, it will give you a bold look.

“2. Do not wear your hair in a careless way during the warm weather, as it will make you look very untidy. 

“3. Do not wear soiled gloves, even though the salesmen in the glove shops say they are allowable. 

“4. Do not wear stockings of a particularly remarkable  color or design because they are more desirable for the corps de ballet (a group of lowest rank dancers who are not soloists but instead work as a unit as a permanent part of the ballet company for the principal solo dancers).  

“5. Do not wear so much bustle (a frame or pad to support and expand the fullness of the back of a woman's skirt) that your figure will suggest an hour glass.

“6. Do not wear either too tight or too loose shoes. The first will ruin your temper while the other will affect the shape of your feet.

“7. Do not wear a very heavy perfume because it is vulgarizing. 

Jennie June Sewing Machine / Electric Light Soap

“8. Do not wear rose color on the street unless it be on your bonnet.  

“9. Do not wear many-colored flowers on your bonnet for somebody will surely compare you to a cockatoo.

“10. Do not wear ruching (pronounced “roo-shing,” a French sewing term, meaning to gather in a labor-intensive and time-consuming repeating pattern to form ruffles, scallops, or petals). 

“11. Do not wear upon the street lingerie suited only to the house.

“12. Do not wear a bustle over your white skirt, as it will cause the latter to show below the summer skirt.

“13. Do not wear a corset, since it not only causes discomfort but detracts from the artistic outline of the figure.

“14. Do not wear a very loose collar because it is an evidence of lack of taste.

“15. Do not wear the deep yellow shade unless you are very sure of its becomingness. When it is not “your color,” it is most undesirable in effect.

“16. Do not wear a silk dress when a cotton one would be better. Simplicity is seldom inappropriate during the summer, whereas magnificence usually is.

“17. Do not wear a chemisette (an article of women's clothing worn to fill in the front and neckline of any garment) and knotted scarf unless your bodice is arranged for it. When this is lacking, the desired smart look is also not there. 

“18. Do not wear a small veil. Instead, have one that  drapes the entire chapeau (a French term signifying a hat or other covering for the head) and keeps in place its garniture (decoration or embellishment) and your short bangs.

“19. Do not wear an expression of utter indifference to the world – the sunshine, the flowers, the colors, the people, the gowns and all the etcetera that help make up life. Even if you are absolutely outside of it all by some overwhelming consideration of self, at least do not look so, for it is as unbecoming as it is unwomanly and as well calculated to bring wrinkles on your face and lines your eyes as any of the forms of extreme self-consideration.”    

I received a note from Betsy Shaw on behalf of her mother, Bessie Kate “Bess” Young Katcham who will be 100 years old on July 18. “Nothing would please her and her family more,” said Betsy, “than to have an interview with you about those 100 years in Johnson City and how everything has changed.”

During her life, Bess enjoyed the Johnson City Press and read every word from front to back. After being diagnosed with macular degeneration, Betsy continued to read the news to her. She especially loves area history articles and can personally relate to so many of them.

Left: Young Bess with Her Parents / Right: Bess (far left) and Her Sibblings

What do we know about the Young family? According to Ray Stahl from his book, Greater Johnson City- A Pictorial History (1983, The Donning Co.), the Young family members collectively acquired more than 2,000 acres that had been bought from the Cherokees, which was about the same amount as that sold under the Watauga Association sale. Bess can be proud of her Young family history.

Listed below are seven questions and answers provided by the soon-to-be centurion. Ms. Shaw interviewed her and supplied me with ample text and photos for this feature. Her comments are only slightly edited.

1. What is the background of the Young family?

“The Young family is one of the original families in this area. My father was Frank David Young and he was the baby of six children (that included Willie, George, Jim, Nannie and Ruth) born to Hattie Matilda Emaline Scott Young and Thomas Young. “My ancestor, Robert Young, and family were the inhabitants of the Young Cabin located at Winged Deer Park here in Johnson City. The cabin was originally located on Mckinley Road behind the Tennessee National Guard Armory. All the men of our family, including my father, were accomplished brick masons with the exception of Jim, who was an attorney. 

“An example of my father's trade was the fact that he put the finishing round of brick on the John Sevier Hotel, a major downtown city landmark. The entire family rode the streetcar down Roan Street to the big celebration. “The advantage of being a brick mason during this time was that masons joined hands and built each other a brick home. We even had a brick outhouse that contained an expired Sears and Roebuck catalog in it.  This home still stands at 2027 E. Unaka Avenue.

“My mother was born to Rebecca and Jim Blevins, who was the Tweetsie Railroad conductor, and was one of six  children from a blended family. The stepfather was Tom White. He hauled slag from the old Carnegie furnace. When they dumped it daily, it lit up the entire sky of E. Johnson City at the end of the streetcar track on E. Fairview. Not many people, if any, are alive today would remember the fiery skyline. At the end of this streetcar track was the Commissary where “the furnace workers owed their souls to the company store.”

Bess and Her Husband, Willard in Their Younger Days

2. Did the Great Depression affect your life and that of your family?

“The Depression was not felt as much by my middle class family as it was by the upper and lower classes.  I say this because we raised our own pork, beef and poultry.  We also had a garden where we raised vegetables. We canned and preserved everything we could. My mother made our clothes out of flower sacks and she made lye soap out of pig fat in a brass kettle over a fire in the back yard.

“Part of the corn crop was taken to St. John's Mill on Watauga Road for grinding into corn meal and cracked corn for chicken feed. This mill still stands today but is not operational.

“What did affect us was rationing of such items as coffee.  Also, the building industry was virtually at a stand still. My family had to sell our brick house and move to find work. We relocated to Morristown and resided there for a year before moving back to Johnson City. My parents were never to own another home. After reflecting on this, the Depression did severely affect us because nothing was ever the same for us.”

3. What do you remember about your school years?

“I attended grammar school at Piney Grove Elementary School and later Martha Wilder located on Myrtle Avenue in East Johnson City. I attended Junior High School on Roan Street. I walked 2.5 miles to school every day and on occasion was afforded a ride by Mr. St. John, owner of mill, as he also took his daughter, Josephine, to school in an automobile.

“My fondest memories were of climbing the magnificent steps of Science Hill High School. I spent two years there but had to move to Morristown for my junior year due to the Depression. My family returned to Johnson City after my junior year, but I never returned to school. Instead, I got a job working at McLellans 5 & 10 store.

4. What are some of the significant changes you observed in your life?

“We lived in our brick house several blocks past the Johnson City Country Club on East Unaka in my early childhood. There was no power or paved streets past the Club. We used a wood stove for cooking and coal stove for heat. We hah a wash board for washing. We had a cow, hogs, chickens and a garden which provided food.

“That all changed after the Depression. We moved into a rented house with no animals and no garden. We then became dependent on local stores for our groceries. We did, however, own a car because this was necessary for a brick mason to get to his job. This allowed us to visit family, go on picnics at the Unicoi County Fishery, the Laurels and Cox's Lake. We always picked blackberries at Fall Branch every July 4th.”

Bess in Her Wedding Dress / Bess Graduates from Nursing School / Bess at age 97

5. How did your life change in your early adulthood?

“My friend, Sweden Hodges Wilhoit, lived with my family during the week and we would ride the train from Johnson City to Boones Creek to his house on Saturday night and then ride back to Johnson City on the train Sunday after church. It was not unusual for my mother to allow my cousins to live with us during the summer when they were out of school. 

“I later went to work at the hosiery mill (Johnson City Mills) just off New Street in East Johnson City. During this time, I looked out my window and saw Willard Katcham walking past my house. I said, 'what a good looking boy'. My mother replied after looking out the window, 'Stay away from that boy; he is too good looking and will be nothing but trouble.' Three years later I married Willard. I was living at the time in Johnson City.”

6. What were your later years like?:  

“Willard and I raised three children: Carol, Larry and Betsy. We lived on Boone Street, which was then North Johnson City. I was a full time mom. We also lived in Kingsport for a time while Willard worked at Holston Ordnance Works. We moved back to Johnson City when Willard started working at Thomas Oil Company. We purchased our first new home in 1957 on the west side of Johnson City.

“Tragedy struck my life in 1958 when Willard died of a heart attack while on a deer scouting outing with our 15-year-old-son. My husband was only able to see one grandchild of six, Randy Lyle, and none of our great or great-great grandchildren.

“On Mother's Day on May 8, 1983, the Johnson City Press-Chronicle published a letter from my youngest daughter Betsy, depicting my challenges and recovery. I was able to rebuild my life to become an independent self supporting person through my continuous faith in God.”

Left: Bess Standing in Front of the Robert Young Cabin / The Young Brick House in Johnson City

7. What are your best memories of growing up and living in Johnson City?

“We made our own skedaddle skate boards using a board and some skate wheels, which we played with all day. On the first day of summer, we dropped our shoes and went barefooted all summer until school started again.

“Outstanding memories include enjoying a soda upstairs at Anderson Drug Store; going to the movies at the Liberty Theater; walking to the annual Thanksgiving and Christmas parades; parking on Main Street with Willard and watching people walk by; following the iceman and getting small pieces of ice from the ice truck; receiving candy treats from Tolbert H. Kitts, Sr., who was known as the “Raleigh Man”; seeing our RFD mailman, Ray Mettetal, Sr. (father of Ray W. Mettetal); walking to Godsey Grocery (2103 E. Unaka) with a nickel or dime; purchasing my wedding dress from Masengill’s Department Store in 1936; and having lunch wagon breaks at the hosiery mill with an original six-ounce Coca Cola with mushy ice.”

Happy upcoming 100th birthday, Bess! The readers of the Johnson City Press thank you for sharing your much-loved memories of growing up in Johnson City.”

Today's column is part 2 of my Johnson City Press History/Heritage page reader response. I will forward any comments you send me to the appropriate contributor.

H. Kay Godbey

It is so nice to see your series on this interesting and important Lady of the Fountain. Every fountain has a story, but most fountains never have their purpose and history documented. During PhD studies, I was fortunate to have made a “Study Tour” to Paris in 2007. My research focus was on the fountains of Paris, and the resulting paper was the most fun writing I've done. I came to realize that no matter what the origins, once a fountain is established, it represents the spirit of the community, and it belongs to the people who visit it. Your work here on the Lady of the Fountain is a great gift for Johnson City. Thank you.

Ralph B. Mowery

I read your weekly column on a regular basis and thoroughly enjoy it. You touch on many familiar things in your column. My family moved to Johnson City from Illinois in December of 1947. My family had Dr. Ray W. Mettetal as a family doctor until he retired and were friends with his family. I can remember meeting his father, on perhaps a couple of occasions when I was young.

Young People Visit the Freedom Train During a Stop in Johnson City in 1948

My question to you is, do you know about or have any information on the Freedom Train that visited Johnson City in 1948 or 1949. It carried many artifact pertaining to the founding of the U.S., such as copies of the Declaration of Independence and had them on display for visitors to the train. I remember waiting with my parents in a long line to go onboard. I was seven or eight years old when it came to Johnson City. Thank you. (I am currently working on a column about it.)

Terry Oliver

I am sending this on behalf of my niece. She was wondering if you or someone you know have information on W.A. Payne who managed the Dixie Motel in 1953, the year that was listed in your article. What was his real name? Did he have any son's, brothers or kin by the name of Ernest Payne? Where he is W.A. Payne buried? If you don't know, we hope that you might direct us to someone who does. We really enjoy reading your articles in the Press. We like reading them because of the time period those old building were still standing in the 1950s-60. Thanks for your time and any info you might provide. Keep those articles coming.

Ben Hicks

I have been working on discovering my family history in the area and have ran across several of your articles during my search. I thoroughly enjoyed reading them. I was wondering if you may be able to point me in the right direction to find some specific information I am seeking. I would like to find a list of former mayors of Elizabethton TN, specifically from the late 1800's and early 1900's. I have been told that my great grandfather, James Burrow, served as mayor at some point during that time period. Any guidance you could offer would be greatly appreciated, and thank you for your time.

Gary L. Love

I am originally from Johnson City and have property on E Watauga Ave that was left to me by my grandparents, Guy Martin and Hazel Young. I was looking at an article that you wrote concerning children’s letters to St. Nick in 1909. In it was a Christmas wish from one young man named Guy Marten (Martin?) Young, whom I believe could have been my grandfather. Could you please tell me the source of this information? I am very much interested because that side of my family had a significant role in our country’s history and Washington County in particular. My great, great, great, great grandfather, many times over, was Robert Young who was responsible for killing a British officer (named Major Patrick Ferguson) at the Battle of Kings Mountain.

The cemetery he is buried in is near Brush Creek behind the old armory off of the Old Jonesboro Highway. His cabin now rests at Winged Deer Park. I first discovered the Young Cemetery after looking through some TVA files concerning a cultural survey of that area. When I investigated the area, I found the cemetery in ruins from a storm that had toppled trees over the headstones. I contacted the City of Johnson City and they came out and did a good job repaired the fencing and cleared the fallen trees. Any information on any of this would be greatly appreciated.

If you can assist any of these individuals, drop me a note and I will see that they receive it. 

Today's column deals with response from four Johnson City Press History/Heritage page readers. I routinely receive requests for help pertaining to local history matters. I try to assist if possible, but sometimes I am unable to do so. Attached are four slightly paraphrased notes that I received from readers. They need your help.

Roger Garland

Concerning your article about Billy, the mascot goat at ETSC, I think I can solve your question as to what happened to him. My aunt and uncle James and Mary Lowery were caretakers of the college's farm located off Southwest Avenue, where the current married student housing is located. My Uncle Jim was also employed by the college at the physical plant. The goat you're speaking of was kept at the large barn located on that farm. I remember him and his successor Captain Kidd.

Billy, as I always knew him, was not at the barn one day. When I asked my Uncle where he was, he told me he had died and they had buried him. Later I found out that Billy was injured by the rough handling by some football players and later died of his injuries. He was then replaced by Captain Kidd, which was the meanest, most ornery goat I ever met. You had to outsmart him with diversion just to get in the barn. I hope this clarifies the mystery as to what happened to Billy the Kidd.

Diana Chesser

I enjoyed your newspaper article about the Okolona area, train stop, etc. You mentioned the Anderson family in your article. I wanted to mention that an old Anderson cabin is still standing on Anderson Road, the first road past Okolona Road on the old Erwin Highway. I have taken several photos of the old cabin. You can see if from the Old Erwin Highway. There is also an Anderson cemetery somewhere in that same vicinity.

Old Anderson Cabin in Okolona Located in the South Section of Town

Also, I wanted to mention that on Okolona Road is an area called Cave Springs. A relative of mine, Charles Burton Jones, was a teacher at Cave Springs School. I have been unable to find a photo of the school, but I do have one of Charles' children standing on the porch of the school. A couple of years ago, I contributed to the “Find A Grave” website, submitting those buried at the Cave Springs Cemetery. There are a few Haynes family members also buried there. You also mentioned this same family in your article. Again, I enjoyed your article very much.

Janice Loudy Spillman

Hi Bobby. I graduated from SHHS with you. Larry Johnson sent me your Feb. 9 column about Columbus Powell's 1952 third grade class valentines. I attended the 3rd grade at Columbus Powell but was in Miss O'Dell's class. I remember Jean Ann Senter, Bonnie Fisher, Brenda Spain, and Phyllis Arnett. Jimmy McMackin also went to Columbus Powell; I wonder if he might be the Jimmy you listed in your article. Jimmy was also in our 1961 SHHS class. Larry has shared a couple of your columns with me, the most recent one being about Cecile Mettetal's grandfather. I always enjoy them. Thank you for all the pleasant memories.

Dr. Clinton Holloway

 I graduated from Milligan College in 1995. I have read many of your articles with interest. At the school's request, I just completed a new book of about 30,000 words and 200 pictures that is slated for fall publication for the start of Milligan's 150th anniversary. In the course of our research, we found a postcard which shows opening exercises of Milligan's Student Army Training Corps (SATC) for WWI dated October 1, 1918. As the armistice was only six weeks later, that was a short lived program, but it resulted in a fire at Milligan, which is of significance to the school. The postcard was donated by Mary Hardin McCown and shows her cousin, George W. Hardin, who was named after her famous father.

The postcard shows a man on a small platform outside the administration building giving a speech. Although I cannot locate who that person is because the picture is not detailed enough, I assumed he was a politician of some sort, not wearing a military uniform. I understand State opened a SATC the same day.

Would you have any knowledge of who would have given speeches for the opening of the SATC at Milligan and ETSC on October 1, 1918? If I can be of any assistance in Milligan related research, please feel free to contact me. Kind regards.

If you can assist any of these four individuals, drop me a note and I will see that they receive it. Continuation of this column will occur in a few weeks.