Bob Tate sent me a clipping through Charles Marshall that was from a1967 Johnson City Press-Chronicle newspaper article, written by Paul Smith. It pertained to the early growth of industry in the city.

Information came from a Southern Railway promotional brochure titled, “Johnson City, Tennessee – Its Commerce, Finance and Industries, prepared by the company’s traffic department about 1909 and owned by J.E. Rumbley, retired employee of the company. 

The first business noted was Harris Manufacturing (Allen and W.P. Harris, proprietors). Established in 1898, the hardwood center became one of the most important factors in Johnson City’s growth and prosperity. Among its many diverse products were plow and cantilever handles, trunk slats and dimension stock. Sells Lumber and Manufacturing Company (Sam Sells, president) was a wholesale and retail dealer that employed 28 workers. It dealt in interior finish, sash and doors, mantels, grates, tile, plaster and cement. 

The brochure included scenic views of mountain railroad tracks, architects’ drawing of the projected $100,000 post office (later became Ash Street Courthouse), view of W. Watauga showing two streetcars at a passing point, the Bee-Hive Department Store, the first railroad station erected in the city that burned in 1891, the huge Cranberry Furnace in the Carnegie section, wholesale grocery of A.P. Henderson and Sons, a block structure in the 700 block of South Roan, the new Johnson City Laundry, Johnson City Foundry and Machine Works, Hotel Carnegie (large three-story structure on the site of the future Empire Furniture Company) and Soldiers Home that opened in 1903.

Also pictured was the reservoir of Watauga Water Company whose spring, owned by W.E. Burbage, supplied water to the city’s 75 fire hydrants. The old Watauga Electric Co., headed by W.P. Brownlow, served 525 customers charging 10 cents per kilowatt-hour for domestic use.

The city’s mercantile community boasted of “one of the largest, best equipped and most heavily stocked wholesale dry goods and notions houses between Knoxville and Lynchburg” known as Love-Thomas Co. Another photo in the brochure showed the three-story building opposite the courthouse, which once housed the general offices of Clinchfield Railroad before the headquarters was moved to Erwin.

The booklet also stated that Johnson City wanted more factories, became the gateway to the greatest attractions in the country, had acquired more important wholesale institutions and its manufacturing plants distributed their products to all parts of the world. Blue limestone was said to underline the surface of almost the whole of the community. It was used because it was especially adaptable, having been used for numerous building operations such as railway ballast and macadam.

The proximity of cheap fuel was a significant reason for local factories locating in the city. Johnson City was ideally situated adjacent to the great coalfields. Between 1902 and 1909, it experienced a 100% population growth. It also bragged of a thoroughly up-to-date electric street railway (streetcar) system with plans in the works to extend the present line for additional loops that included a terminus at Soldiers Home.

Another plus was the city’s telephone system with ample connections through long distance lines to almost any part of the United States.

The highly informative brochure concluded with the promise of new industries coming to Johnson City that included a $100,000 flourmill to be named Model Mill (later the Red Band unit of General Mills). 

Walter Birdwell brought to my attention the fact that, over the years, the Carnegie Hero Fund Commission has recognized several local inhabitants for displaying prodigious bravery in attempting to rescue someone from danger. Several lost their lives in doing so.

In 1904, Andrew Carnegie formed the Fund that established a two-fold mission: “To recognize persons who perform acts of heroism in civilian life in the United States and Canada and to provide financial assistance for those disabled and the dependants of those killed helping others.”

The U.S. Steel Company magnate conceived the idea after a massive coalmine explosion on Jan. 25, 1904 at Harwick, PA claimed 181 lives. The number included two brave souls who died after courageously entering the hazardous mine to save people.

Walter shared an unidentified newspaper clipping, “Johnson Citians Noticed by Carnegie,” dated January 23, 1919. It recognized the heroics of 31 people across the country at the organization’s 15^thmeeting in Pittsburgh. One of them was his family member.

J. Walter Birdwell, Walter’s grandfather, lost his life on June 17, 1918 attempting to rescue two young girls, Zerena Tinnell and Viola Skutnick from drowning at Taylor Springs, Il. They were playing with two other girls when they accidentally slid into a slough that was eight feet deep. Birdwell who weighed 235 lbs. and could not swim bravely made his way eight feet to the girls but sank and drowned before he could pull them to safety. A 14-year-old girl also died attempting to rescue the pair.

Three additional Johnson Citians received the coveted Carnegie award for their acts of gallantry:

Charles E. Weaver, 39, of 808 E. Fairview Avenue rescued Hezekiah Perry in Johnson City on April 6, 1917. Perry, 33, a laborer, was tearing down the brick lining of a blast furnace when a section of it collapsed, dropping him to the floor of the furnace 42 feet below. Charles lowered himself to the victim using a rope, grabbed Perry and held him while workers pulled the two of them to safety.

William J. McNeese, 35, perished while attempting to save C. Irvin Widener, 16, from drowning on September 12, 1936. The accident took place in the south fork of the Holston River. Widener got into trouble after wading into eight feet of water. William swam out 10 feet to Widener and took hold of his shoulders with both hands. In a moment of panic, Widener threw his arms around McNeese's neck causing both men to submerge and drown.

On Oct. 16, 1987, Guy A. Keally, 36, saved Hester A. Letterman, 37. She became trapped inside her car after it became involved in a highway accident. The heroin ran to the car and noted that the rear was engulfed in flames. About that time, Hester rolled down the passenger window allowing Keally to partially enter the car. He grasped her under her arms and pulled her to safety. Mrs. Letterman required hospital treatment but later recovered.

Other East Tennessee honorees included …

James H. Johnson (Bristol, 1913, kept a man from being struck by a train).

Lawrence C. Simpson (Kingsport, 1917, perished attempting to save a man from drowning).

Dana R. Moody (Elizabethton, 1930, attempted to save a man and a woman from drowning but only able to save the woman).

Nicholas F. Owen (Bristol, 1944, died trying to keep a woman from drowning who was then saved by another person).

James E. Dowell (Bristol, 1950, prevented a woman and her toddler from being hit by an oncoming locomotive).

Farley C. Lane (Kingsport, 1965, saved a man from drowning by performing underwater heroics).

Terry G. Bailey (Jonesborough, 1994, rescued a man from a fire by forcing his way into his home and dragging him to safety).

David B. Bowery (Kingsport, 2003, dived into a river from a restaurant deck and retrieved a two-year-old girl who had fallen into a river upstream).

Lindsey A. Witherspoon (Kingsport, 2007, saved a woman from drowning after observing her inside her car sinking nose first into a frigid lake and swimming 75 feet  to free her).

Mr. Carnegie put into practice John 15:13 when he chose to inscribe the words of the familiar Bible verse on all of the three-inch bronze medals that his foundation awarded to selected heroes or their families: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Additional information about these heroes and others is available at http://www.carnegiehero.org/search.php. 

James Garrett shared his memories (band, Buda's burgers, zoot suits) of living in Johnson City from 1939 until he went away to college in 1957.

“My Junior High music instructor was Vernon ‘Sleepy’ Weaver,” said James. “I attended the old downtown Science Hill High School where my major subject was music under the direction of Mr. Warren Weddell. I was one of the drum majors in the school marching band and often twirled a fire baton at football games at half time in Memorial Stadium at night while all the lights were turned off.”

James commented about John's (Buda) Sandwich Shop that operated in the 1950s at 105 Buffalo: “Circa 1951, my family lived near Antioch Baptist Church (Little Cherokee Road). Since we did not have a car, we rode the city bus to A.L. Street's Grocery (2501 W. Walnut) and walked past Bernard School (Old Jonesborough Highway) to home. I often ate at John's before my bus arrived. “I cannot remember eating a hot dog at John's as I always had a hamburger or hot tamale. Both were delicious. I have tried to duplicate John's hamburger and tamale many times but always come up short. Is there any possibility of obtaining the recipe for either?”

I checked with George and Wanda Buda. George is the son of John and Ethel Buda. Wanda sent me the recipe for a John Buda Chili Burger, one that came from Ethel and was used by Patty Smithdeal Fulton in her book, And Garnished with Memories, (The Overmountain Press, 1985). 

According to Wanda: “Obtain one pound of ground round or sirloin; two eggs, beaten; one roll chili, water; two tablespoon dry bread crumbs; salt and pepper to taste; and sliced onion and tomato, mustard and mayo. Beat the eggs and mix with breadcrumbs into the ground beef. Mix thoroughly with hands and then pat into desired thickness. Grill until done, turning only once. Do not mash down with spatula. To make chili, use a roll from a grocery store and mix with one tablespoon of water. Keep thick. Put chili on top of hamburger, then tomato, onion, mayo and mustard and salt and pepper. Get a bib, open wide and enjoy.” George and Wanda said that John didn’t make the hot tamales; instead, he bought them from an older black gentleman named Will Cope who delivered them on a bicycle. I often hear people speak of him and his terrific tamales.

“I worked at the Majestic Theatre (237 E. Main) as an usher.” continued James. “The popcorn sold at the Majestic was made by the Liberty Theatre. I took two empty sacks about the size of a kitchen garbage bag to the Liberty where the concession girl filled them. I then took them back to the Majestic. At one time, I recall making the popcorn in a machine under the stage at the Majestic and taking it in bags to the Liberty.

“The ushers at the Majestic wore ‘Zoot Suits’ to work. We got tired of wearing them so we jointly asked the manager if we could buy some real suits from Hannah's, Inc. (‘Fashions for Men,’ 213 E. Main) if we paid for them. He agreed. The song, “A Pink Sport Coat and a White Carnation” (sung by country singer, Marty Robbins) was on the top ten list of popular songs at the time so we all bought pink sport jackets and black slacks.”

Zoot Suits were a fashion fad in the 1940s. They consisted of baggy men’s suits; tight-cuffed pegged trousers; usually high waisted; an oversized jacket with inflated broad, padded shoulders and wide lapels; and an equally exaggerated wide-brim hat. They were worn with suspenders and a long watch chain. Big band leader, Cab Callaway, often donned one when he performed his novelty hit song, “Minnie the Moocher,” (“Hi-de-hi-de-hi-de-hi, Ho-de-ho-de-ho-de-ho”).

Ah, what great memories from yesteryear. Keep them coming, folks. 

Louis Feathers grew up in North Johnson City in the 1920s and 30s, first on Lowell Street and then at four different addresses on nearby Baxter Street. During part of that time, the area was outside the city limits.

“I remember,” said Louis, “when our next door neighbors, the Meador family on Lowell Street had an Edison phonograph that played cylinder recordings. I even recall some of the selections I heard played: “Redwing,” “My Pretty Quadroon” and “Life’s Railway to Heaven.” Feathers experienced the rustic lifestyle of that era such as patronizing a hand dug wooden outhouse (a.k.a. “privy”) that sat out behind the house. He and his six siblings took Saturday night baths in a large laundry tub. In spite of such hardships, there were rewards of living in that era.

Louis further recalled, “Houses were built only on one side of Lowell Street. On the other side was a large cornfield. Just south of it was a large grassy hill that I heard was once part of a golf course before it was moved eastward to a new site at the Johnson City Country Club. Airplanes occasionally landed on the hill approximately 100 yards from our home. About a quarter mile from our home and beyond the field were Oakland Woods and Gump Woods. Those fields were great places for recreation.”

Louis’s father, Ezra, an avid coin and stamp collector, occasionally paid his paperboy with a rare coin that had a numismatic value approximately equivalent to the amount that he owed. “About 1927, my parents bought the home at 1021 N. Baxter Street,” said Louis. “This was to be our home for the next seven years. The Meadors were again our next-door neighbors during a part of this period.”

Louis indicated that when they resided on Lowell Street, their dad raised chickens, but after moving to Baxter Street, they had “rabbits, rabbits and more rabbits.” He estimated that they often had more than a hundred of the little critters at one time. An unpleasant task was for him and his brothers to clean out the rabbit hutch. The structure was designed to make cleaning easier, but it was still a chore. However, the droppings were in high demand by a neighbor who ran a truck farm.

Other rewards of living in that era were the wide-open fields in the area, which included many wild berry bushes and a large chestnut tree. Periodically, Ezra and his boys engaged in picking blackberries and dewberries (similar to blackberries except more spherical) after which Nannie would can them. With the depression and a large family to feed, preserving and storing food was a necessity. Ezra built his wife a rack of shelves for storage of hundreds of jars of canned goods in the basement space on their rear-sloping lot. The quantity of jars put up during the summer was a bragging issue among women at that time. In this competition, Mrs. Feathers was usually among the winners.

The house at 1021 Baxter was a small mansion compared to their previous home. Louis and his brothers playfully waxed and polished the hardwood floors by tying rags on their feet and skating all over the rooms. During the warm months, a large screened-in back porch just off the kitchen served as an extension of the living area and was the site of many of the activities associated with canning.

In subsequent years, the Feathers family lived in three additional Baxter Street houses: 1300, 1114 and 1116, the latter being the longest. I will feature more of Louis’s well-documented Johnson City memories in future columns. 

It was a bird that only a mother could love, with its blue top hat; red felt face and beak; big white eyes; clear glass tube neck; white shapely hips and legs; bright red feet; and a light green feather attached to its large bulb shaped see-thru posterior containing red or blue colored liquid.

The “drinking (also dubbed ‘dunking’ or ‘dipping’) bird” was constantly rocking back and forth and periodically dipping its beak into a glass of water, seemingly by magic.

The distinctive little creature was a permanent fixture at my Grandmother Cox’s house on East Fairview Avenue in the late 1940s and 1950s. She kept it at different locations in her house. It was usually positioned in front of a full glass of water, rendering it a perpetual drinker. It added new meaning to the derogatory expression, “Go soak your head.” Anytime I came to grandma’s house, I usually found the cute little imbibing bird busy at work performing its usual repetitive chore.

Occasionally, I found it motionless without its water glass. Grandma, at my insistence, would correct that situation by placing a full glass of water in front of it, bringing its head forward until its beak was submerged in water and allowing the felt portion of it to become saturated with water. She then released it, permitting the bird to immediately spring into action.

The critter would rock back and forth until it almost came to a standstill, after which it would gradually start leaning toward the glass of water. It would then “take a swig” and begin rocking again. The cycle would repeat itself about every 20-25 seconds. The bird ran nonstop as long as it could obtain a drink of water. Take away the glass or let the water level drop too low and the little bird would soon become motionless. I sat mystified for long periods of time watching it perform its ritual.

Some people became so enamored with the product that they “doubled their pleasure, doubled their fun” by purchasing a pair, letting them drink out of the same glass.  Not satisfied with one or two of them, a few enthusiasts acquired several and placed them in a line or in a circle for added amusement and watched them perform out of sync. America had a love affair with the “drinking bird.”  

Miles V. Sullivan is credited with being the creator of the product, patenting it in 1946. It became an instant sensation with a war-weary public and almost overnight became a common fixture in many homes.

The bird even appeared in the 1951 Warner Brothers Merrie Melodies cartoon titled, “Putty Tat Trouble.” While fleeing the advances of Sylvester the cat, Tweety Bird, a talking canary famous for uttering “I tawt I taw a puddy tat,” encounters a “drinking bird,” mistakenly thinking it is the real thing. Tweety begins emulating the bogus bird by methodically bobbing up and down in front of a glass of water.

At the risk of boring you with the scientific reason for the patented creature’s curious behavior, let me briefly explain that the educational device is actually a heat engine, containing methylene chloride liquid and vapor that operates through a thermodynamic cycle that incorporates latent heat of evaporation, temperature drop, pressure drop, vapor condensation and a shifting center of gravity.

The inexpensive drinking bird is available for sale today, but one word of caution to those inclined to purchase one. It is not a toy to be placed in the hands of young children. It is breakable and the liquid will stain anything it touches. Also, methylene chloride has some health issues.

About 1960, the always thirsty entertaining and educational “drinking bird” took flight into my yesteryear.  

Tuesday, April 14, 2009 was a heartrending day for this writer. The old apartment building, originally known as the Gardner Apartments, at 319-321 W. Watauga where I lived during the first eight years of my life (1942-1950) burned and collapsed into a mountain of molten rubble.

The Gardner Apartments as It Looked Before, During and After the Devastating Fire 

The structure was one of six rental complexes built in that general area, the others being Larchmont, DeLeacon, Montclair, Holston and Lafayette. The 20-unit L-shaped edifice was constructed in 1921 and surrounded by three streets – Watauga to the west, Market along the south and (later) King on the north.

A 1919 reference to that property identifies a Garden Flats Apartment. Further research suggests that the likely owner was James Robert Gardner, a prominent attorney whose practice was located in the Armbrust Smith Building and later relocated to the second floor of the Arcade Building Annex. T.H. Mouries was president and Gardner was vice president of Watauga Realty, which carried the identical address as the apartments.

Andrew Mickle eventually became manager of the Gardner and Holston apartments. Gardner also owned the nearby Watauga Swimming Pool (renamed Sur Joi and then Carver). Isaac Garland owned the apartment during my family’s stay there in the 1940s in unit 10 facing Watauga at King.

Leon-Ferenbach Inc. was for years situated on the east side with City Fire Department No. 4 farther east on Market and the Police Department directly behind it on King. The constant roar from the silk mill machines was frequently augmented with shrill sirens from emergency vehicles. Like most things, we got used to it. The apartment offered more than just a place to eat and sleep as evidenced by some vivid memories from my youth depicting life there and in the surrounding neighborhood:

Proudly walking to Howard Stewart’s Red Store by myself with a list of needed groceries for Mom; occasionally shopping at Luther Pardue’s Grocery Store; taking a bath in the impressive-looking old bathtub that stood on four feet; waking up each winter morning to the clanging of steam radiators; chatting with the firemen at the fire station and occasionally seeing a young Clarence Eades (future fire chief) there; …

Going with Ernest Green, the maintenance man who lived in Apt. 4, into the dark, cool basement and being advised to watch out for rats; patronizing Prator-Wilson Pharmacy, being greeted by Guy Wilson, eating ice cream in the summer and hot tamales in the winter at the soda fountain and reading comic books from the store’s display rack; getting an adult haircut at Bill Garland’s Barber Shop; anxiously decorating a modest pine tree during the Christmas season; feeding a stray cat on our back porch; …

Going “swimming” by carrying a pot of warm water to the narrow sidewalk behind the apartments, sitting in it and using a metal cup to refreshingly pour water over my head; watching a barrage of helium-filled balloons drift overhead that had been released from the Press-Chronicle, offering a prize to the fortunate person who found one and returned it; enduring a life-threatening bout of rheumatic fever that required me to be quarantined, kept inactive and off my feet for a year; …

Walking to West Side School by taking a “shortcut” through the Larchmont Apartments; becoming acquainted with the Buda family (John, Ethel, Anna and George) who owned John’s Sandwich Shop on Buffalo; walking with Mom to 536 W. Market each month to pay our $20 rent bill; eating a delicious hamburger at Bill Lawson’s Sandwich Shop soon after having my tonsils removed at Jones’ Hospital; and watching a snow shower in winter slowly paint the neighborhood white. What memories!

The aging 86-year-old Gardner Apartments daringly and dramatically absconded into the annals of yesteryear earlier this week, but my reminiscences of the years of my residency there are brilliantly stuffed in my bank of memories.  

In the spring of 1930, the Johnson City Chronicle and Staff-News conducted a “Birthday Contest” for local residents who were born in 1885. The rationale was to glean from locals what the city was like in the 45 years since they were born.

The newspaper focused on people who had lived the longest in Johnson City and on those with the best stories about early city life. Six people were subsequently interviewed for the newspaper; four received a $10 or $25 cash prize.

1. Mr. Ollie White, 607 Franklin Street ($25):  “I was born on Mar. 30, just five days after the (second) birth of Johnson City, which has been operating continually under a series of charters. I lived in a house on what is now King Street that was just inside the city limits of the village. I have never been out of town except for a visit of a few weeks. My mother also lived in Johnson City for more than 70 years, coming here when she was a young girl. I attended school in the old Jobe residence on what is now Tipton Street. I currently am employed at Harris Manufacturing Company. About 1900, I was caught in a windstorm one Sunday morning while on Main Street. The wind blew the front out of the post office that was just across the street from the church. It also tore the roof off Pardue’s store. Some of my relatives and friends came to town from Buffalo, New York to attend my funeral (laughing) after hearing that I had been killed in the storm.”

2. Mrs. Fannie Johnson Merritt, 207 Lamont Street ($25): “I was born in what was known as the Whiteside House on Holston Avenue. It has since been torn away. I am a cousin of Henry Johnson, founder of our city, and have lived here all my life. My total time outside the city amounts to only about six months. I am a widow with two children now in school. My father, Marshall H. Johnson, was a Civil War veteran and first cousin of Henry Johnson. He was a carpenter and surveyor, having surveyed most of the first streets in Johnson City. I remember when there were only planks for sidewalks here and the two principal stores were the Bee Hive and the New York Racket Store.”

3. Arthur W. Callaway ($10): “Although born in Jefferson, NC, I have lived in Johnson City for 35 years and this is home to me. I was a 10-year-old boy when we moved here. I remember that the old water tank of the Southern Railway stood near Fountain Square. Ward and Friberg ran the Bee Hive department store. “William H. Taft, President of the United States, spoke in the old skating rink that stood on W. Main Street, near the present location the White City Laundry. George Campbell was chief of police in 1905 and I.M. Wilson was No. 1 policeman. David Netherly, Sr., now the oldest man on the force, was working at the Johnson City Foundry. Johnson City was only a village then, quite different from the city of today. The post office was on Main Street in a building near where the walkway now goes from Main to Market. There were no paved streets in Johnson City when I first came to town. Brick was laid on Main and Market streets in the fall of 1908.

“The Foundry stood near the present location of the Clinchfield station on Cherry Street. The Southern Railway and ET&WNC railroad depots were combined in the building now used as the bus terminal (on Buffalo). Mr. Lee ran a hotel on Buffalo Street and Wilson Pardue opened a grocery store on Main Street. I believe he started free delivery of groceries in town. I remember attending a revival meeting in the little white frame Baptist Church on Main Street near the current location of Frank Miller’s store. There were no buildings from there to where the H.P. King building now stands. Gump’s clothing store was where the Tennessee National Bank now stands. The fire hall was on Market Street near Roan. Fire equipment consisted of a wagon and a few feet of hose, drawn by one black horse and one gray horse. Bill Owens was fire chief and the others were John Perkins, Berry Wilson and some volunteer fire boys. W.E. Burbage owned the city water system.”

4. Mrs. J.F. Puckett ($10). “In 1908, I was here to visit an uncle who lived on North Baxter Street. The mud was so deep our old Ford could hardly pull through it. Now, I live in the same block on a nice paved street. When I was 10 years old, I came to the village of Johnson City. I saw an automobile for the first time and it was probably the first that ever came to Johnson City. What interested me most was the fire wagon, pulled by two big black horses that raced along the streets with bells ringing. I will never forget the thrill of watching them. Now, the saddest thing in my life is the lonesome peal of the bells, the ghostly clang of the bells on the roaring, racing engine, shrieking, then tolling, then silent. Just a year ago, they guided my son to eternity.” (Note: Mrs. Puckett’s son was a fireman who tragically lost his life responding to a false alarm fire.)

5. Clyde Walker, 800 W. Maple: I have lived here all my life. I recall the old village of 40 years ago (1890) when the Piedmont Hotel was the leading hostelry. My father had a blacksmith shop on what is now the corner of Buffalo and Tipton streets. He is now head of an ice and coal company.”

6. Mrs. V.L. Rowe, 1100 Montgomery: “I am highly impressed with the steady growth of the city during the past 40 years.” One unidentified man spoke of helping build the original Science Hill Male and Female Institute.

The news article concluded by saying, “Wonder what those born here this year will remember in 1975, just 45 years from now.” That future date would have been 34 years ago. 

Former city resident, Louis Feathers, sent me a copy of his beautifully written 193-page bound autobiography that chronicles his growing up in Johnson City from the 1920s to the early 1940s. One section contains a five-page handwritten letter written in 1995 by his 93-year old uncle, Omer Feathers, who grew up in the Cherokee section of town about six miles southwest of Johnson City.

Omer indicated that Cherokee Road originated at Johnson City and served the Cherokee section, South Westerly by Speedwell Church, Union Church of Christ, extending about 10 miles to Lamar School. This unpaved road became rough and muddy during rainy weather.

Feathers’ parents, John Wesley and Rachel Andes Feathers, built a logwood framed house about 1000 feet south of Cherokee Road across a meadow and creek on a small rise. Omer was born in this house on January 28, 1902, the ninth of eleven children. While growing up, the boys mostly helped outside on the farm and the girls handled the indoor chores.

“The house contained a large living room and fireplace about six feet wide,” said Omer. “We all met at this fireplace at night to pop corn, roast chestnuts or chinquapins and eat apples as a family-get-together. It was an enjoyable time. We did not have electricity, a telephone or running water, but we had a place filled with love and plenty of food to eat, which we raised on the farm. I cannot recall ever not having plenty to eat.

“Behind the living room was our kitchen and dining room. Mother and daddy slept in the living room. Most of the children slept in the attic. Adjoining the house was another addition called the parlor, used mostly when we had company, which was pretty often.

“Near the back of the house was our smokehouse with hams, sausage, kraut, canned fruit, lots of jams, jellies, apples, cabbage and turnips. During bad weather, it all came in handy. Our barn was about 200 yards back of the house with the garden between. West of the house and near the creek was our corn shed. We had a lot of fruit trees with a good variety of fruit. We also had plenty of berries. It all made for many delicious pies.

“We lived about three-quarters of a mile from Union Church of Christ and we were there often. My Mother’s father and mother passed away at our house. They willed us their farm of about 75 acres, which was about two miles south of our home and near the mountains.”

Omer recalled the abundance of chestnuts on their farm that lasted until about 1910 when blight killed all the trees. He fondly recalled going barefooted, wearing overalls, fishing in the creek in front of his house and hunting frogs, rabbits and squirrels, which he deemed “were all fit to eat.”

“The older children went to school near Union Church of Christ,” he said, “but about 1908, they built a new one-room school near us called New Era School. I went there for about five years. There was only one teacher for about 35 students.

 “One or more times a year, Daddy would take us boys to Nolichucky River for a day’s fishing. When huckleberries got ripe, Daddy and the boys would go berry picking in the mountains. It was a lot of fun and real good eating. Daddy tried to raise something he could sell and he went to Johnson City often. It was our way to raise money for clothes and other things he had to buy. Daddy also liked to go to the Nolichucky River where they raised lots of watermelons and cantaloupes and get a wagonload of melons, which he would take to Johnson City and sell.”

In March 1913, the Feathers family moved to 715 Magnolia Avenue in Johnson City. I plan to feature more of Louis’s writings in future columns. 

Recently, I received four pages of an undated newspaper known as The Monday Wash, distributed by “The Young Woman’s Auxiliary of the Monday Club,” and advertised as “A Newspaper of No Character.”

Solomon New was editor of the paper that appeared to date back to about 1940. The paper’s serious aim was noted in an editorial: “For several years now, we’ve had no Monday Wash. The depression took most of the laughter from us and gave us so much to worry about that we lost, at least temporarily, our sense of humor. This year we have attempted to give you a few laughs in a paper, which is designed not for the purpose of making fun of people or hurting anybody’s feelings. The proceeds of the sale will be used for civic work.”

The newspaper’s rates were $.25 daily, $.25 weekly and $.25 yearly.” The paper did not print communications whose authors were revealed to the publishers. They claimed to have three libel suits and desired more. Submitted manuscripts had to be accompanied by a deputy sheriff.

A lengthy article titled “Knights of Bantam Chanticleer” spoke of an organization for the prevention of cruelty to bachelors. Part of the 379-word oath stated: “I being of sound mind and having an inordinate indisposition to bestow my worldly goods upon any woman of the female sex, realizing the uncertainty of married life, which I believe to be a scheme upon the part of woman to inveigle man into paying her board bill for life and recognizing the certainty of the joyous and untrammeled life of the bachelor, do by those presents, in the presence of these assembled Knights, herby …”

Another article mentioned a trek of the “Hick, Hack, Hike Club.” The group left Johnson City, hiked to Alta Pass (NC), trekked to Greeneville (TN) where a light lunch was enjoyed, took a 20-minute rest break, journeyed on foot to Gatlinburg, to Erwin and thence to the foot of Buffalo Mountain. The group then walked an hour, skipped an hour, trotted the next 30 minutes and ended the third hour with “a decided gallop.”

Another story was of a stranger stopping at Central Baptist Church in the middle of the Sunday morning worship services while Dr. William Rigell was preaching. The visitor slipped into a back seat alongside a member and whispered to him, “How long has your minister been preaching?” He was told “about ten years.” “Well,” said the stranger, “I think I’ll stay; he must be nearly through.”

A testimonial was sent from George Barnes, City Judge, to Mr. Stevedore Smith of Jones-Vance Drug Store, whose occupation was listed as “Pharmaceutilist and Mortician”: Gents, I suffered from tendium, languor of spirits and a disinclination for work for nigh on to 40 years. I tried 38 and a half bottles of your ‘Git Up and Go Prophylactic,’ and got up the next morning feeling fine. Since then, I have ‘worked’ over 30 men with good results.”

About the only earnestness in the paper were advertisements: Masengill’s, Zimmerman’s News Stand. Office Supply Company, Remine Monuments, Windsor Hotel, George E. Treadway & Sons, Free Service Tire Company, Vee Bee Grocery, Central Coal Company, Mrs. Lyons Taylor Fruit Cakes, Snyder-Jones Pharmacy, Mrs. W.W. Belew Cakes, Bobie’s Chili Parlor, The Hat Box Millinery, The Marguerite Hyatt School of the Dance, Beckner’s Jewelers, Dosser’s, Mecca Restaurant, Appalachian Funeral Home, King’s, The Floral Shoppe, The Charlie Cargille Studio, Bonnie Kate Beautify Salon and H.E. Hart Jewelers.

And then there was this clever news bit: “At a recent Rotary Club meeting, Doc. Wheeler had a congestion of traffic on the Esophagus Road to his stomach. He tried to run a load of hotdogs through a red light.” 

A 28-page city progress report addressed to the people of Johnson City from the Mayor and Board of Commissioners was issued in 1965. D.A. Burkhalter, then City Manager, produced the booklet for the citizens of Johnson City to inform them of community progress that had been made over the previous two years.

The front cover contained a circular symbol of progress with “1869” inside it, denoting the year the city was incorporated. In addition to Burkhalter, the commissioners included Ross Spears, Jr. (Mayor); Edward N. Backus (Vice Mayor); Mrs. May Ross McDowell, Hal Littleford, Robert E. Henry and Jack B. Strickland (Assistant City Manager).

The booklet was divided into seven sections: “People Progressing, People Providing, People Participating, People Planning, People Preparing, People Playing and People Protecting.”

The most amazing and eye-catching item in the report was an artist’s rendering of a futuristic Main Street. The photo was taken from about midway on E. Main Street facing east. Main Street is permanently closed to vehicular traffic from Fountain Square to what appears to be Colonial Drive or possibly Division Street. Shoppers do not have to cross Roan Street to access stores on the east side of town; instead, they walk through an underground pedestrian tunnel under Roan Street.  Flowers, trees and benches line both sides of the street with a large fountain (not the Lady of the Fountain) in the middle of the block near S.H. Kress. Unfortunately, this grandiose farsighted and obviously expensive vision never materialized.   

A glance back at the city’s impressive accomplishments for 1963 included a Pro Shop and 9-hole Municipal Golf Course; new fire station in North Johnson City; new fire pumper; 764 new street lights; four new classrooms to Fairmont Elementary School; modernization of City Garage facilities; Management Program for the city’s 1500 acres of water-shed land; completed survey of leaks in the city’s water system, saving of hundreds of thousands of gallons daily; the first Tennessee city to participate in the People-to-People program, choosing Guaranda, Ecuador as its “Sister City”; a litter ordinance and installation of numerous receptacles in downtown Johnson City; an Advisory Committee for Human Relations; new sanitary landfill site purchased; improvements at Civitan, Rotary, Kiwanis and Carver Parks; major improvements at Lions, Jaycees, Towne Acres and Civitan Parks; systematic replacement of city street name signs with attractive reflectorized ones; comprehensive Neighborhood Improvement Program; report on area-wide vocational-technical training school for Upper East Tennessee; revised city zoning ordinance and map after detailed study; the most comprehensive street improvements program in the city’s history at a cost of a quarter million dollars; and commencement of the initial phase of Downtown Improvement Program.

Some of the 1964 accomplishments 1964 included adoption of an official city flag; inaugurated Youth-in-Government Day; approved additional downtown parking lot; welcomed 75 Latin-American Mayors and other officials to the city; improved traffic circulation at intersections; and moved the sanitary landfield.  

The report concluded with seven future plans for the city: Provide additional water sources; revitalize the downtown area; construct a new municipal and public safety building; continue to extend sewers; build additional school facilities; improve the street system; and expand recreational programs and facilities.