The first settlers in East Tennessee took up residence near the Watauga River where they had to adjust to the complications of life in the harsh mountainous region. Before leaving their homes in the East, these robust pioneers saved money for the trip by boldly selling their land and other possessions. Initially, many of them settled in the Appalachian Mountains, but eventually crossed the Mississippi River and headed farther west.

The families packed all the essentials they could reasonably carry on their horse-drawn wagons, including axes, rifles, cooking vessels, food and clothing. The lack of roads presented them with formidable challenges as they migrated across rugged terrain.

Their first order of business when they arrived at their newfound land was to build a rudimentary permanent cabin adjacent to a nearby spring of pure water. This meant finding temporary living quarters such as their wagons, beds of leaves under large trees, canvas covered lean-tos, one-room shanties and even teepees.

Every male old enough to swing an axe chopped down trees and other obstructions to afford them an opening in the thick forest for their new abode. They cut and fit tree logs together, sometimes “scalping” the wood (hewing or shaping it with numerous hard blows from an ax). This was tedious work because of the heaviness and quantity of logs required. They stuffed a mixture of mud and grass in the spaces between the logs to keep the elements and the varmints out.

The family had two options for a floor; they could leave the hard earth bare or cover it with heavy split slabs of roughly dressed timber known as puncheons. The roof consisted of clapboards held in place by straight wooden logs. A rudimentary door was cut in the south side of the house and a small elevated window was provided along the north side.

For many years, household furniture was crude but also functional. The cabin contained no fine furnishings such as bureaus or sofas. Instead, a bed consisted of nothing more than two poles pushed into cracks in a wall with the opposite ends resting on two rough forks cut from tree branches. On these were laid flat boards, which supported a bed tick (mattress) filled with leaves, straw or feathers from wild pigeons, geese or ducks.

Clothes were hung on wooden pegs in the walls around the room. The finest piece of furniture was generally a rustic chest that was used to store the family’s finest clothes and treasures. 

Since bricks were not available then, chimneys were lined with rough, flat stones and soft clay. The fireplaces, which were used for heating and cooking, were usually outsized enough to hold half of a wagonload of wood. 

A good water supply was essential for drinking, cooking, cleaning and bathing purposes, as well as storing and preserving butter, milk, fresh meats and other perishable items.

Initially, pioneer children did not attend school for two reasons – they were usually unavailable and youngsters, regardless of their ages, were needed for essential chores at home. Men and older boys hunted wild game. The meat was then cleaned, cut it into pieces and stored in salt, which preserved it until it could be eaten. Just prior to cooking, it was scrubbed to remove the salt. Another option was to store meat in snow barrels in winter.

Those were the days when adversity and strife often existed between settlers and Indians, thus forcing them to occasionally gather their belongings and seek refuge in forts or stockades. These hardy brave settlers eagerly sought a new and exciting way of life, which they received and more, usually exceeding their wildest expectations.  

In the spring of 1955, coonskin caps and similar paraphernalia became the fashion among youngsters when a song, “The Ballad of Davy Crockett” by Bill Hayes, reached the top spot on the pop charts, remained on the pinnacle of the charts for five weeks and eventually sold over seven million records. Other artists also recorded it.

Davy was born in 1786 on the banks of the Nolichucky River. Today, a restored cabin at the Davy Crockett Birthplace State Park in Limestone marks the spot of his birth. After a remarkable outdoorsman and political career that eventually took him to Texas, the pioneer bravely gave his life at the Alamo in 1836, along with other volunteers.

When I was a young lad, my father used to drive my mother and me to the park, usually on a Sunday afternoon outing, which included steering our car through a shallow creek and swinging on thick grapevines in trees along the riverbank. Those were fun times.

Davy Crockett became a five-part television special, which aired in one-hour black and white episodes on ABC’s “Disneyland.” The story featured Fess Parker as the real-life frontiersman and Buddy Ebsen (later Jed Clampett on The Beverly Hillbillies) as his friend, George Russell:

Episode 1: “Davy Crockett, Indian Fighter” (Dec. 15, 1954). The initial program introduces the characters and unfolds the storyline. In one scene, Davy and a bear savagely go head-to-head in the bushes with Crockett, of course, emerging as victor. Major General Andrew Jackson summons the two men to secure a truce with a band of Indians who had assaulted a military outpost. Davy earns the respect of their leader, Chief Red Stick, after beating him in hand-to hand combat.

Episode 2: “Davy Crockett Goes to Congress” (Jan. 26, 1955). Davy learns of the death of his wife, Polly, back in Tennessee. Later, he wins a seat first in the Tennessee House of Representatives and later in the U.S. House.The pioneer quickly learns that Andrew Jackson, then a candidate for president, is using him to help rob Indians of their rightful property. Disgusted, Davy quits politics and returns to the great outdoors that he loves.

Episode 3: “Davy Crockett at the Alamo” (Feb. 23, 1955). Crockett and Russell reunite and head for the Alamo in San Antonio, Texas to help the Texans secure the fort. They realize that the outlook is grim but, against all odds, stick it out and fight a spirited battle to the finish. In the final scene, Davy swings his rifle as hordes of Santa Anna’s soldiers descend upon him. Disney spares his viewers from seeing Crockett’s death scene.

Episode 4: “Davy Crockett’s Keelboat Race” (Nov. 16, 1955). Even though Davy had perished at the Alamo, Disney was not about to let his popular specials come to an end. Crockett reappears in a flashback in Kentucky with his buddy, George, to take on Mike Fink (Jeff York), the pompous, self-proclaimed “King of the River.” They are challenged on a money bet to a keelboat race to New Orleans. Fierce competition and shenanigans ensue as the two boats travel down the mighty Mississippi River.

Episode 5: “Davy Crockett and the River Pirates” (Dec. 14, 1955). This concluding story is a continuation of episode 4, but in this one, Davy and George befriend Fink to bring to justice a group of bandits posing as Indians. They enlist a traveling minstrel who is secretly in cahoots with the outlaws. It’s a race against time to avoid a major conflict. The outcome is predictable.

Although the five television specials were seen on black and white TV sets, Disney wisely filmed the originals in color. Later, he combined the first three shows, totaling 150 minutes, into a 93-minute motion picture titled, “Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier” that was released on May 25, 1955. He then put the last two episodes of 100 minutes into an 81-minute edition called, “Davy Crockett and the River Pirates. It hit the theatres on July 18, 1956.

A viewing of those movies today conjures up memories of those wonderful days in the 1950s. 

People living in the 1950s readily recall the action-packed Walt Disney movies pertaining to the life of legendary hero, Davy Crockett. Many, like this writer, had to have a coonskin cap to wear that was available from such downtown establishments as S.H. Kress, McLellan’s, Woolworth’s, Charles Store and Powell’s.

Disney broadcast the action-packed episodes to those who were fortunate to own black and white television sets. Today, they are equally exciting to watch in DVD and Blu-ray formats.

The hit song from the series made popular by Bill Hayes, Fess Parker and Tennessee Ernie Ford, while very entertaining, was not completely accurate. It had the pioneer being born on a mountaintop (instead of the banks of the Nolichucky River), living in the greenest state in the land of the free (absolutely correct), raised in the woods where he knew every tree (certainly) and killed him a bear when he was only three (highly improbable even for Davy).

The colorful pioneer penned his autobiography, which he titled, Narrative of the Life of David Crockett, of the State of Tennessee (Carey and Hart Co., 1834). The work provides a realistic and often humorous perspective on the hardy backwoodsman and later politician.

The preface was captivating because Davy talks directly to his readers and reveals what makes him tick. Reading this section prepares readers for what to expect in the remainder of the book. Crockett began by saying, “Fashion is a thing I care mighty little about, except when it happens to run just exactly according to my own notion and I was mighty nigh sending out my book without any preface at all, until a notion struck me, that perhaps it was necessary to explain a little the reason why and wherefore I had written it.”

Crockett was quick to state his motive for the autobiography; instead of fame, he sought justice. It seems that a nameless author had penned a biography of him and Davy was not happy with it: “(He) has done me much injustice and the catchpenny errors, which it contains, have been already too long sanctioned by my silence. I don't know the author of the book and indeed I don't want to know him; for after he has taken such a liberty with my name, and made such an effort to hold me up to public ridicule, he cannot calculate on any thing but my displeasure.” Other comments of the famous Tennessean can best be stated in his words:

“I have met with hundreds, if not with thousands of people, who have formed their opinions of my appearance, habits, language, and every thing else from that deceptive work. They have almost in every instance expressed the most profound astonishment at finding me in human shape and with the countenance appearance and common feelings of a human being.

“In the following pages I have endeavored to give the reader a plain, honest, homespun account of my state in life and some few of the difficulties, which have attended me along its journey down to this time. I am perfectly aware that I have related many small and, as I fear, uninteresting circumstances, but if so, my apology is that it was rendered necessary by a desire to link the different periods of my life together, as they have passed, from my child-hood onward, and thereby to enable the reader to select such parts of it as he may relish most, if indeed there is any thing in it which may suit his palate.

“I have also been operated on by another consideration. It is this: I know, that obscure as I am, my name is making considerable deal of fuss in the world. I can't tell why it is, nor in what it is to end. Go where I will, everybody seems anxious to get a peep at me.

“They will, at most, have only their trouble for their pay. But I rather expect I shall have them on my side. But I don't know of any thing in my book to be criticized on by honorable men. Is it on my spelling ? — that's not my trade. Is it on my grammar? — I hadn't time to learn it, and make no pretensions to it. Is it on the order and arrangement of my book? — I never wrote one before, and never read very many; and, of course, know mighty little about that.

“Will it be on the authorship of the book? — this I claim, and I'1l hang on to it, like a wax plaster. The whole book is my own and every sentiment and sentence in it. I would not be such a fool, or knave either, as to deny that I have had it hastily run over by a friend or so, and that some little alterations have been made in the spelling and grammar; and I am not so sure that it is not the worse of even that, for I despise this way of spelling contrary to nature. And as for grammar, it's pretty much a thing of nothing at last, after all the fuss that's made about it. In some places, I wouldn't suffer either the spelling, or grammar, or any thing else to be touch'd; and therefore it will be found in my own way.”

Crockett’s preface concluded by saying, “But just read for yourself, and my ears for a heel tap, if before you get through you don't say, with many a good-natured smile and hearty laugh. This is truly the very thing itself — the exact image of its author, David Crockett, Washington City, February 1st, 1834.”

If Davy could correct the hit song about him in the mid 1950s, perhaps it would read: “Born on the banks of the Nolichucky River; Greenest state full of groundhogs and beaver; Raised in the woods so’s he knew every tree; Killed him a bear when he was over three; Davy, Davy Crockett; King of the Wild Frontier.”  

In November 1909, Booker T. (Taliaferro) Washington (1856-1915) began an “educational pilgrimage” through five southern states: Tennessee, Mississippi, North Carolina, Texas and Florida. The educator’s purpose was to boost the spirits of African Americans living in appalling conditions in these five states. The first day of the Tennessee portion of the trip included stops at Bristol, Johnson City and Greeneville where he spoke to large crowds comprised of both races. 

The train stopped first at Bristol. It was explained to Dr. Washington that since the centerline on State Street split the city between two states, half the population lived in Tennessee and the other half resided in Virginia.  

Bristol was described as an educational center of considerable importance, being the seat of four institutions of learning: Virginian Southwest Institute (a Baptist academy for women), King College (a Presbyterian college for men), Sullins College (a Methodist college for girls) and Bristol Normal Institute (a black school for both sexes under the auspices of the Presbyterian Church).

The party arrived in Bristol during a driving flurry of snow that morning. Several hundred people, black and white, braved the harsh elements to come to the railway station for the opportunity of seeing their guest. A committee of the local branch of the Negro Business Men's League, which Dr, Washington organized, surrounded him and escorted him through a cheering crowd to carriages, which then gave the party a tour of the city.

Judge J. H. Price, the son of a slaveholder and one of the Democratic leaders of western Virginia, introduced Dr. Washington, a former slave in Southwest Virginia, to the crowd as one of the Old Dominion's most distinguished sons. 

From Bristol, the train proceeded to Johnson City, one of the new manufacturing cities of East Tennessee. It had evolved from a village to a bustling city with steel mills, tanneries and a Carnegie Library. Under construction was a $75,000 Federal building, a tribute to the influence of Congressman Brownlow, the East Tennessee Republican boss with the Appropriations Committee in the House of Representatives.

A large crowd greeted its special guest at the railway station. As Dr. Washington appeared on the railcar steps, the band from National Soldiers' Home struck up a welcoming tune. Johnson City’s Hippodrome, a large rink-like hall a few blocks from the station (located about where the Johnson City Press building now sits), was the chosen site for the gathering. Almost all downtown businesses closed and schools, both black and white, dismissed early. Teachers marshaled their pupils to the Hippodrome as a group. The barn-shaped structure was filled to capacity.

Mayor Burbage introduced Washington, who was received enthusiastically by the crowd. After his speech, hundreds accompanied him back to his train, where he shook hands with many people until it was time for his train to leave. Cheers could be heard as the vehicle chugged out of sight. 

Greenville, the next stop on the tour, was reached about 3:30 p.m. This town, which was proud of giving the country a president, escorted visitors to a small street off Main Street. Here stood a dilapidated, weather-beaten little shop bearing a cracked signboard containing barely decipherable words, “A. Johnson, Tailor.” President Johnson was buried in Greeneville on a hill overlooking the town.

Dr. Washington's party was next driven in darkness in buses to Greeneville College, a black school located a half-mile out of town. Dinner was served in the commons room of the school. Afterward, the party was escorted back to town for a meeting in a large crowded hall.

At 10:30 p.m. the special tour train departed Greeneville and headed for Knoxville; the first day of the Tennessee pilgrimage was over.  

For David “Davy” Crockett (1786-1836), “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” The folk hero, frontiersman, soldier, storyteller, politician and defender of the Alamo was born near Limestone, Tennessee at the convergence of Limestone Creek and the Nolichucky River in the short-lived State of Franklin. Two counties, Washington and Greene, claim his birthplace.

(Crockett as he appeared while in politics, replica of the pioneer's cabin on the Nolichucky River)

Although Crockett likely possessed countless rifles throughout his 49 years on this earth, four stand out prominently. The first one was an unnamed .48-caliber flintlock that he acquired when he was about eight years old. With it he attained the hunting skills and resulting reputation that would remain with him beyond the grave.

The second weapon honored Crockett’s service in the Tennessee State Assembly in 1822. His Lawrence County constituents presented him with a .40-caliber flintlock crafted by James Graham. Davy affectionately named it “Old Betsy,” after his oldest sister. When he dropped out of politics in 1835 and headed for Texas, he gave the weapon to his son, John Wesley Crockett.  It was later handed down to Bob Crockett, grandson of the pioneer, who reportedly brought down much game with it before retiring it to honor his legendary grandfather.

About 1834, Davy was awarded a third firearm from his friends who were members of the Whig Society of Philadelphia. “Pretty Betsy,” as he called it, cost $250 and was paid for from donors each contributing 50 cents.

The Memphis Commercial Appeal described the unique relic as being of the flintlock type, with a .40-caliber bore. The barrel length was later shortened from 46 inches to 40.5 inches. It was impressively covered with gold and silver. The stock was trimmed in sterling silver with figures of the Goddess of Liberty, a raccoon, a deer's head, an elk’s head and other designs. The guard over the trigger displayed a silver alligator and underneath the stock was the inscription, “Constitution and Laws.”

Along the upper portion of the barrel were gold letters that read, “Presented by the young men of Philadelphia to the Hon. David Crockett of Tennessee.” Similar lettering near the muzzle said, “Go ahead,” referring to the backwoodsman’s famous admonition to “Be sure you are right, then go ahead.” After the presentation, the outdoorsman amused his audience by shooting holes in quarters as they were tossed in the air. Arkansas Secretary of State John M. Crockett, a great-grandson of the famous Tennessee pioneer, inherited “Fancy Betsy” in 1903. Because of its splendor, it never encountered the same exploits as the other three.

None of the aforementioned rifles played a role in the Battle of the Alamo. While it is not known what rifle (or rifles) Davy used to defend the fortress, it was not one of the three previously mentioned. On March 6, 1836, Santa Anna's Mexican army broke down their barricade and massacred the garrison during a 13-day siege, leaving no defender as a witness. Crockett earned even more acclaim for bravery for dying while defending the fortification.

Many stories of courage are related regarding this dreadful battle in which the defenders of the church gave their lives willingly, but in doing so slew or wounded eight of their assailants to one before the last brave soul was overcome. 

In 1898, 70-year-old Bob Crockett visited the Alamo. He drew the attention of local media who depicted him as being a typical southern gentleman, medium height, white hair and beard and standing straight as an arrow. The hallowed ground where his grandfather, David Bowie, William Travis and 169 other determined supporters perished likely moved him. 

Those of us who were captivated by Walt Disney’s Davy Crockett phenomenon in the 1950s will fondly recall Fess Parker, who played the role of Davy Crockett, frequently referring to his rifle as “Old Betsy.” He and his family of rifles left behind a colorful legacy.

Drivers motoring along West G Street in Elizabethton encounter a unique memorial situated on a small hill at the intersection with Monument Place, just a short driving distance from Sycamore Shoals State Historic Park. While some people scarcely give the century-old structure a passing glance, others are vividly aware that it symbolizes an epic event that significantly shaped our country’s history.

The Sycamore Shoals Memorial was installed in late October 1909 when the area around it was an expansive field. It commemorates the Overmountain Men’s march from that spot on September 25, 1780 across the mountain to join up with fellow patriots and continue toward King’s Mountain, South Carolina. Their mission was to engage in combat with British commander, Major Patrick Ferguson, who greatly underestimated the determination of the rugged mountaineers.

Historians credit the skirmish, which resulted in the death of Ferguson and many of his British Loyalist troops, with turning the tide of the Revolutionary War. It ultimately brought independence to the country. 

The marker was erected through the dedicated efforts of three chapters of the Daughters of the American Revolution: John Sevier (Johnson City), Sycamore Shoals (Bristol) and Bonnie Kate (Knoxville). The monument was constructed on an Indian mound that was located on the farm of Mrs. J.C. Thomas, who donated the land.

The final design called for a 13-foot tall shrine that was triangular in shape, having a base four feet high that was made of Tennessee white marble. It had columns on each end and a vertical shaft nine feet high that consisted of river rock embedded in cement. The rock was selected from the Watauga River.

The inscriptions on the three sides of the base contained the words: “1780-1909. John Sevier, Bonnie Kate and Sycamore Shoals Chapters, D.A.R. The Sword of the Lord and Gideon.” / ''Fort Watauga, First Settlers Fort Built West of the Alleghenies 1770.” / “Here was negotiated the treaty of Sycamore Shoals, under which Transylvania was acquired from the Cherokees, March 19. 1775.” A bronze tablet on the shaft bore the inscription: “In memory of the Patriots who met here Sept. 25, 1780 on their way to King’s Mountain under Campbell, Shelby and Sevier.”

Dedication of the monument was announced to the public for October 7, 1909, but setbacks caused it to be delayed until June 14, 1910. The historic occasion brought into the valley of East Tennessee some 3000 people from Virginia, South Carolina, Kentucky, Georgia, Alabama and other southern states. Special trains had to be run from towns and cities in East Tennessee in order to transport the multitude of travelers.

A party of young men, dressed in pioneer garb, arrived from nearby towns representing the original Overmountain Men who once assembled there to formulate a route and battle plan to take down Ferguson and his men.

The Rev. Osborne of Johnson City opened the ceremonies with prayer. Afterward, while a choir of 1000 voices sang “America,” three youths, who were descendants of the three generals who led the valiant pioneers across the mountains, unveiled the monument. The lads (and the commander they represented) were Robert Asher Gray of Bristol (Colonel William Campbell), Carter Crymble (Colonel John Sevier) and Evan Shelby, Jr. of Memphis (Colonel Isaac Shelby).

Three regents (and the chapter they represented) were Mrs. J. H. McCue (Sycamore Shoals), Miss Mamie Arnell (John Sevier) and Mrs. Joseph W. Sneed (Bonnie Kate). Each gave a brief talk. Reverend David A. Carter of San Antonio, Texas, a great-great grandson of John Sevier, offered another speech. Mrs. Edward Pearson Moses of the Bonnie Kate Chapter followed Dr. Carter and read an original poem entitled, “Ode to Tennessee.” Shelby Thomas and Margaret Robertson, both descendants of William Campbell and Samuel Doak (who prayed for the soldiers prior to their departure for King's Mountain), were also present. The Bristol Military Band next played, “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

United States Senator and former governor Robert L. Taylor, who was born in close proximity of the monument site, was the orator of the occasion and, as expected, delivered a powerful address in which he reviewed the story of the early struggles and the men whose efforts collectively counted for much credit in bringing independence to the nation. The ceremony concluded with the band playing a rousing rendition of “Dixie.”

The John Sevier Chapter of the DAR is credited for not only aiding in the erection of the stone monument but also for working with CC&O Railroad personnel to provide a number of substantial history makers along the route taken by the Overmountain Men.

The Sycamore Shoals Monument is worthy of attention by the public. Residents are encouraged to stop at the unpretentious monument, which is starting to show its age, take some photos and savor the two important pieces of local history that occurred in 1780 and 1910.  

Davy Crockett’s tales – truthful, enhanced or fabricated – have perpetuated the antics of Tennessee’s colorful history maker. Brush aside the accumulated cobwebs of tall tales and he still emerges as a fascinating folk hero.

Many of us remember the thrilling “Davy Crockett, King of the Wild Frontier” television era of the mid 1950s. We watched him on our small snowy TV sets as a brave, witty hero that was bigger than life because, after all, he killed a bear) when he was only three?

Crockett competed with such compelling figures as Andrew Jackson and Sam Houston who were also well-known fellow Tennesseans. He set the formula for humorous political campaigning, which Senator Alben Barkley and other colorful politicians eventually employed in their heyday.

While Crockett held Andrew Jackson as his hero in his early political life, he later fell out with “Old Hickory” and thereafter referred to him sarcastically as “The Hero.” Davy was equally gifted in handling himself in hunting affairs and in congressional debates. He once shouted: “Sirs, I do not consider it good sense to be sitting here passing laws for Andrew Jackson to laugh at; it is not even good nonsense.”

Perhaps the most fascinating of Crockett’s lore is the occasion that made him and the coonskin cap synonymous. It happened during Davy's first campaign for Congress when the mountain man was trudging from one crossroad to another stumping for votes. Voters welcomed the candidates because of the traditional treats expected and, according to Crockett, found political discussions very dry without refreshments. For understandable reasons, stumps in the vicinity of taverns attracted the largest crowds.

As Davy told it, he approached the tavern owned by a Yankee gentleman whose name was Job Snelling where a fair crowd of people had accumulated anxiously waiting for him. Crockett mounted the stump and spoke only briefly before his listeners’ tongues became parched and they demanded the traditional refreshment.

Davy led the crowd into the tavern completely aware that he did not have enough money in his buckskin jeans to cover the indulgence. He depended on receiving credit from Snelling until he learned that Snelling supported his opponent. After refusing to put the drinks on the cuff, the politician plunged into the woods where he spotted, took down and skinned a raccoon. Knowing that the skin was legal tender and the accepted exchange value was a quart of the beverage known as “panther juice,” Crockett returned to the tavern. He tossed the coonskin on the bar and commanded his quart. The reluctant tavern keeper was forced to comply with his request and Davy's potential voters quenched their thirst. Davy returned to the stomp and renewed his speech.

It wasn't long before the cry of indulgence once again interrupted the proceedings. Returning to the tavern, Crockett spied the tail of the coonskin sticking out between the logs of the crude bar. In Crockett’s words, “I touched the tail and it seemed to follow my hand.” Crockett slapped the skin on the bar and called for another quart of the brew. Unaware that he had been scammed, the tavern keeper complied again. In his autobiography, Crockett wrote that he successfully repeated the trick several times. The caper delighted his backwoods audience when they learned what had happened.

The story of the coonskin trick permeated the hills like wildfire, probably being embellished with each utterance. Crockett attributed his poll victory to the mirth the story caused. In later years, the remorseful frontiersman offered to pay Snelllng for the beverages, but the tavern keeper generously declined compensation. 

My fascination for stories about Daniel Boone and his famous trek through East Tennessee in 1760 have me constantly searching for new information about him. Recently, I found something in a 1918 “Wisconsin Magazine of History” that merits sharing with Press readers.

Mr. C. A. Rafter once donated a most interesting firearm, a flintlock Kentucky rifle of the kind used by hardy pioneers of the 18^thcentury, to Wisconsin’s State Historical Museum.  

According to historian Emory Hamilton, Long Hunters (aka Longhunters) were brave explorers and huntsman peculiar to Southwest Virginia. Most hunts originated on the Holston River in the vicinity of present day Chilhowie, but were comprised of hunters who lived on both the Clinch and Holston rivers.

These courageous souls were native landowners and residents who settled along the banks of the two rivers. Later when pioneer settlers moved toward the extreme frontier, Long Hunters had long since preceded them. They endured rigorous winters in rudimentary shelters with the ever-present dangers of Indians, sickness, hardships, exposure to the elements and accidents. Over time, the term became loosely used to describe any American explorer from that period.

The interesting fact about this firearm is the inscription carved on the stock, “Boons True Fren” (Boone’s True Friend). In another location on the weapon are the letters “D.B.” The stock contained a row of five grim notches, each representing the sending of a redskin to the “happy hunting grounds.” What little is known of the rifle came from a letter written by Mr. Rafter:

“Dr. Norcop or Count DuBois, as he used to be called, came to the mountains of Northeast Georgia years ago and built a rustic castle in which he lived very much by himself and collected relics. He was well educated, much traveled and altogether a very interesting character. The Boone rifle hung over his fireplace. It was my pleasure to call upon him whenever in his vicinity and upon one of these visits, I asked him to will the old rifle to me when he was through with it.

“Shortly after this, he brought it to me. He claimed that he purchased it from a Tennessee mountaineer about 40 years ago and that the marks now on it were then on it. The doctor is getting old now and I had a letter from him the other day in which he said, ‘My health if failing fast and I am about to take my great adventure.’ I expect to hear any day of his death.”

Within a few days after writing the letter, Mr. Rafter suddenly and unexpectedly perished in a fire, thus preceding his aged friend in embarking on the “great adventure.”

Additional details on the old gun were afforded by a letter written to the Society by the superintendent of schools of Johnson City, Tennessee. No name was provided. “It was within a few miles of Johnson City,” he writes, “that Daniel Boone killed a bear in the year 1760. The tree stood till two years ago. Older people recall the distinct words: ‘D. Boon cillED a Bar on tree in year 1760.’ A marker has been placed there. It is quite evident that it was the same rifle that you have that Daniel Boone used in killing the bear and we would like very much to have a good distinct picture of the gun showing the words and notches supposed to represent number of Indians killed.”

The Society concluded: “We do not think the evidence is conclusive that “D. Boon cillED a Bar” in 1760 with the gun now in our possession, although it is not at all improbable that such is the fact.  At any rate, the gun is a highly interesting weapon and one can hardly look upon it without having the imagination stirred by pictures of far-away scenes through which it must have passed.” 

Andrew Jackson, the seventh president of the United States, once practiced law in Jonesborough and Greeneville, residing there for several months in the Christopher Taylor log cabin. He became a polarizing and dominating political figure in the 1820s and 30s who ultimately helped shape the modern Democratic Party.

In January 1915, Andrew Jackson Day was celebrated in Nashville, Tennessee. The Andrew Jackson Memorial Association and the Ladies' Hermitage Association (LHA) were the primary movers in organizing a massive downtown celebration.

One significant portion of the event was to unveil a newly constructed statue as a memorial to “Old Hickory,” paid for from a vast network of local agencies and public contributions. The LHA was praised for their efforts in saving and preserving Jackson’s home place, thereby establishing a model for how preservation of antiquities should be handled.

The day began with a festive parade that organized at Broadway and Eighth Avenue at 10 a.m., moved through the principal streets of the downtown business district to Capitol Boulevard and on to the State Capitol. In the procession were representatives of military, municipal, and patriotic organizations. Along the west side of the Capitol Boulevard behind many bales of cotton, two companies of Confederate soldiers engaged in a mock battle using personnel from two companies of the Tennessee National Guard.

At the conclusion of the reminiscence of the Battle of New Orleans, several young ladies, acting on behalf of the LHA, released several white doves as a token of peace. Upon the Capitol Boulevard, a great throng of spectators heard public addresses from Governor Ben W. Hooper, Major E. B. Stehlman, and Judge S. F. Wilson.

The most impressive ceremonies of the morning were held on the east side of the Capitol under the auspices of the LHA. Here the equestrian statue of General Jackson was decked with wreaths of flowers that had been placed upon it with appropriate remarks by ladies representing the various patriotic organizations. Judge Wilson, Regent of the LHA, delivered the principal address. On the same afternoon, a hickory tree was planted at Centennial Park in Jackson’s honor.

That evening, about 200 citizens attended a banquet at the historic Maxwell House. The toastmaster, Mr. Robert L. Burch, introduced seven prominent speakers. Later, a dazzling ball was held at the Hermitage Hotel.

The next morning, the Daughters and many invited guests made a pilgrimage to the tomb of Andrew Jackson at the Hermitage. The burial place had previously been appropriately decorated. Several speakers were introduced. One lady gave an interesting personal reminiscence of General Jackson and read an affectionate and treasured letter written by the general to her mother. Another person told some incidents of the attack on Baltimore by the British and the defense of Fort McHenry. The originator of the pilgrimage spoke to a group of school children from Old Hickory School, reminding them of Jackson's work in the Indian warfare of the southern country.

Finally, two wreaths of evergreen gathered from the old church that had been built in 1823 by Jackson for his wife, were placed upon the graves of General and Mrs. Jackson. After these exercises and a luncheon, the final speaker presented a paper dealing with Jackson’s storied career.

This brought to a close a day enjoyed to the fullest by a deeply interested and appreciative audience. It was a fitting tribute to a fitting man – Andrew Jackson. 

Life for early East Tennessee pioneers was comprised of chopping down trees, building log houses, clearing fields and sparring with Indians. This left little time for recreation and other leisure activities.

Their hardship caused them to take life too seriously with little time for frivolity. These Scotch-Irish inhabitants were initially comparable to the Puritans of New England who abstained from most forms of amusement.

However, after the settlements became more established and Indian conflicts became less of a threat, the settlers began interspersing a dose of leisure activities into their physical labor. They began engaging in a variety of amusements such as log rolling, corn husking and quilting bees, to which everybody in the community was invited to participate. Dinners and suppers on the ground became routine. In areas where fine horses were raised, the inhabitants participated in the sport of horse racing.

Not to be left out of the festivities were nightly dances that consisted of reels, minuets, jigs and breakdowns. The music was usually provided by a couple of backwoods fiddlers who played a variety of curious old tunes with unusual titles (“Bug in the Taters” and “Old Aunt Jenny with Her Night Cap On”). The musicians were rudimentary fiddlers, not refined violinists. Therefore, the selections were not found in any formal music book. A music stand containing sheet music was nowhere to be found.

The season of particular fulfillment to the settlers was Christmas. In celebrating this special holiday, our ancestors continued the traditions of the older Southern colonies. Everybody sought to generate some type of noise. Therefore long before the sun came over the hills, settlers were frequently aroused from peaceful slumber by neighbors firing volleys from their rifles. Children and occasionally older people dropped in on their neighbors to get or exchange Christmas gifts. It was a happy occasion.

Children did not receive beautiful toys and books for the season, as did those of later generations. There were no Christmas trees in the homes and little, if anything, was said about Santa Claus. Everyone enjoyed the holiday in his or her own simplistic way. The boys received board sleds, bows and arrows and blowguns, which their fathers had made for them. For amusement, young men of the neighborhood engaged in pranks such as carrying away gates. One popular trick was to disassemble a wagon into individual pieces, carry them to another location such as at the top of a barn or in the fork of a tree and then reassemble them to the visible consternation of the vehicle’s owner. 

Foxhunting was greatly enjoyed especially by those who owned packs of hounds. There were two species of foxes that roamed the area, red and gray. The hunters usually went out on the chase late at night after the fox had time to travel about the countryside. When the animal’s scent was finally detected, a chorus of baying dogs serenaded the countryside to the delight of their owners.  It might take until the next afternoon or later before the animal was caught. While in pursuit, the red fox ran a straight distance without changing direction, but the gray fox repeatedly circled around its den. 

At school, boys played “town ball,” “bull pen,” “cat,” “prisoner's base,” “marbles” and “tops.” Tops were hard to find so some boys “danced” small gourds for tops with the object of having the last top in the group spinning. Girls played such games as “My Chicken, My Crane, Or My Crow” and “Old Granny Melinda.”

Life on the frontier was certainly difficult, but our hardy East Tennessee ancestors managed to incorporate much needed merriment into their hard working lives.