The Summer Daddy Found the Spring (A True Story Remembered)

It was a hot dry summer, much like this May and June 2011 has been. Water was scarce, and crops looked pitiful in the fields. To complicate matters, our well went dry. What were we to do for drinking water?

I don’t remember the exact year, somewhere in the ‘30’s after the economy, too, had fallen in the crash of October, 1929. Times were hard, and to have the well go dry was adding another angst to the already long list of woes the farmers in Choestoe Community faced.

I was old enough to remember, and to think of how serious was our situation. I remember my father, J. Marion Dyer, praying that he could find water as he went on his search.

Remembering this incident, I thought it quite strange that he went out to one of the peach trees near our garden and looked until he found a branch. He cut it, and in his hands he held a “y”-shaped limb.

With the limb in one hand and a shovel in the other, he went walking down the dirt road by our house. I was following close behind him, full of curiosity. When he got to the trail that angled up on the bank, the trail on which we drove our cows daily to pasture, he turned right. I followed right behind him, stepping fast to keep up with him and see where he was headed.

We had a v-shaped walk-through entrance in the fence leading to the pasture where people could enter but where the animals could not get through. Dad went through this entrance, and there I was, following not far behind him. He propped his shovel at the fence and moved on. He proceeded on through the pasture, and after descending the hill we were in sort of a little valley, with a stream, now only a trickle from the drought, providing the only water our cattle had to drink, since our well was dry and we could not fill the watering troughs at the barn.

Daddy made a right turn again, and walked a distance into the glade. On each side of the now nearly-dry stream elder bushes grew. These too, looked skimpy in that hot, dry summer heat. Even in the mountains of North Georgia, the weather was unseasonably hot.

I saw my father grip the peachtree limb by its forked prongs, holding it out before him. In my childlike way, I wondered what he was doing with the limb and why he held it at an upward angle out in front of him as he walked. On he went, gripping the limb and looking carefully down at the ground. He seemed to be concentrating in a very concerned way, and I kept very quiet, not daring to break his reverie or interfere with his strange actions.

He walked on in the low place in our pasture, many paces, the peachtree limb held upward as he gripped its forked prongs in both his hands.

Then, amazingly, the limb tipped over as if by magic, as if pulled by a gravity that defied reason. Daddy let the limb down to mark the spot where some force had pulled it. Leaving the branch on the spot, he went back to the fence to retrieve the shovel he had left there. Bringing it to the location of the peachtree limb, he began to dig.

I stood watching as he lifted shovelful after shovelful of dirt from the ground. He had dug down, maybe a foot or more, when, miraculously, a gushing stream of water came forth, bubbling like a fountain.

He had found a bubbling spring, buried underneath the soil right in our pasture. It was not long until water was flowing out. He dug deeper, smoothing and making a circular opening, and also digging a trench for the water to run away from its bubbling source.

Daddy had found a source of water. Most of that day was spent digging the spring deeper and shoring up this marvelous watering place, building a rock wall around it on three sides. He also went back to the house to get some lumber. He built a large spring box over the stream that flowed out from the bold spring. This spring box would be our “refrigerator” in the days before electricity came to our farm, the place where we would place our jugs of milk to keep them cold. Later, he would replace the temporary “spring box” by a springhouse, a more permanent building with space to set butter and other items, as well as the milk we needed to refrigerate.

The water bubbling out from this marvelous spring was cold and clear, tasteful and pure. I had heard the story of how Moses in the long ago wilderness wandering days had struck the rock and water poured forth. My Daddy had dug into the earth at a certain spot and water bubbled forth.

Another necessary job was to erect a strong fence around the area of the spring so that the farm animals that were pastured in the same vicinity would not break through and trample on or otherwise molest this source for family water. As the summer moved along, he made the new spring an oasis, a beautiful place to go to fetch water, and a quiet, cool place apart where we could go and rest awhile from field labors.

When rains came again to water our valley, our well was restored to its former productivity. We no longer had to carry water in buckets the half-mile from the spring in the midst of the pasture to the house for our daily use. But we kept up the spring, kept the foliage trimmed from around it, and kept the springhouse as the place for our refrigeration until electricity finally came to the valley later on.

Today, with many seasons having come and gone since that bubbling spring was discovered that summer day in the 1930’s, I’m not sure if it still bubbles forth in the midst of that little dell near the elder bushes in our old pasture. In fact, the land has changed and been developed since those long ago days when a family was desperate for water.

In memory I think back to that day when in wonder I followed Daddy as he held his peachtree limb in front of him, and with a prayer on his lips went forth to find water. There was a name for the peachtree limb: it was called a ‘witching stick.’ And the person who held it just so to find water was called ‘a witcher.’ Thinking about it, it doesn’t sound so good, as if the person endowed with such a gift would have some power of a darker nature as bestowed by witches or seers. This method was also used to detect water deep beneath the ground as folks in our community sought to find the right spot to dig a new well. Whatever the power, whether of gravity working on the chemistry in a peachtree limb, whether coincidence, or whatever, it seemed to work.

Now there are technological imaging devices that declare a source of water before well drillers take their machines and quickly get to the source of water. But back in the days of our forefathers, they used what they knew in the ways common to their culture. And, miraculously, these ways seemed to bring the desired results. After finding the spring, we didn’t take water for granted any more. We thanked God for clear, pure water.

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published June 16, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Preserving Reece Legacy Celebrated at 8th Annual Society Meeting

The weather was already hot, even in the “cool” mountain region in the shadow of Blood and Bald Mountains in North Georgia on Saturday, June 4, 2011 as members and friends of the Bryon Herbert Reece Society gathered at the Reece Farm and Heritage Center just north of famed Vogel State Park for the first annual meeting held at the farm, the eighth annual meeting of the Society.

The weather did not deter the spirit, or even the comfort, of those gathered under the newly-erected pavilion on the grounds of the Reece Farm. It was a day of celebrating and rejoicing. The cool mountain breezes vied and won over the intense rays of the sun, and everyone present knew they were experiencing history—even making it—by being a participant at the first annual meeting of the Society to be held on the Reece grounds.

I heard from participants, “This is a miracle!” And so it was, as earthly projects go, to have come so far in only nine years since the initial organizational meeting of the Society in 2003. The stated purpose of the Byron Herbert Reece Society reads: “to preserve, perpetuate, and promote the literary and cultural legacy of the Georgia mountain poet/novelist, Byron Herbert Reece. In addition to enhancing both knowledge of and appreciation for his writings, efforts will be made to honor his way of life, with particular emphasis on his love of nature and his attachment to farming.” (from membership brochure).

And the miracle of Saturday, June 4, 2011, lay in the fact that we were meeting at the Reece Farm and Heritage Center, still a work-in-progress, but far enough along to be able to see and celebrate the restoration of the Reece family home as the Welcome Center, his writing studio, Mulberry Hall (in progress), the barn and corncrib and other out buildings, a parking lot, pedestrian trails, and the open-air pavilion under which we met down the former cornfield a ways from the house.

At the helm of this nine-year effort Dr. John Kay, first chairman of the Society, and his wife Patti of Young Harris were honored with an engraved plaque thanking them for their selfless and intensive volunteer service during these nine initial years. We all joined in a hearty and rousing “thank you!” At the head of every noble endeavor is a leader who is inspired with a vision, the ability to lead others, and the skill of promoting without being dictatorial. And Dr. John Kay has provided that consistent and quiet leadership, supported always by Patti who shares the same ideals and dreams of the purposes of the Reece Society. We salute and thank them.

Saturday’s event on the farm also featured as our program guests, Dr. Jim Clark and Friends, who have recorded a dozen Reece poems on disk entitled in Reece’s own lines, “The Service of Song.” This professor of Southern Literature and Writer-in-Residence at Barton College at Wilson, NC sang and played his instrument as he and Terry Phillips, guitarist, of Nashville and Katy Adams, guitarist and harmony singer, of Greensboro thrilled us with five renditions from “The Service of Song,” the words of which are Reece’s poems: “I Go by Way of Rust and Flame,” “The Stay at Home,” “Lest the Lonesome Bird,” “Monochord” (a Petrarchan sonnet), and “Mountain Fiddler.” This last poem was included in our packet as a laminated bookmark for us to take home, read and enjoy at leisure.

Prominent in the progress has been chairman of the Reece Farm and Development Committee, Mr. Fleming Weaver who has headed the effort in plans and progress of the restoration and buildings. In his presentation, he gave special credit to Architect Garland Reynolds who designed the complex and gave his time and expertise free of charge to the Society.

Bringing greetings were Mr. George Berry, former chairman of the Georgia Department of Tourism and Trade, who, in his remarks, stated that some remarked it would be a “cold day” when the Reece Center would be developed, but that it is a “hot day” (namely June 4 when we were meeting at the site) for the bold project honoring Reece, for he, his works and his memory are at the heart of the project. Dr. Ron Roach, vice-chairman of the Society, brought greetings from Young Harris College and stated that Reece can hardly be thought of apart from his association with the college and poet-in-residence/teacher there. Nephew of the poet, Terry Reece, in words akin in spirit to those of his uncle, remembered as a child being with his mother, Lorena Duckworth Reece, and his siblings Tommy, June and Connie (a baby on a blanket) in the very spot of the pavilion as they hoed the field of corn that grew where the pavilion now stands. He spoke of the rhythm and flow of Wolf Creek that meanders through the farm and of the majestic hills that form the backdrop of the Reece farm. He thanked the Society for preserving the site for posterity.

Some of the other projects of the Society in its nine-year history have been “Reece in the Schools,” headed by chairman Carol Knight. Present to read her poem was the 2011 winner of the youth poetry contest, as well as Valerie Nieman, poet and novelist, winner in the adult division, who read her poem, “Apocrypha,” introduced by contest chairman Rosemary Royston who coordinated the first poetry contest.

Union County Commissioner Lamar Paris, was prevented by another obligation from being present. His contributions were noted by Chairman Kay, who read a letter of commendation from Mr. Paris for the hard work and progress made to date on the Center, as well as the recent work of Winkler & Winkler, local contractors, who brought the project from a near-standstill when the original contractor could not continue with the project.

After lunch under the tent, served by Sodexo of Young Harris College, tours of the facility arranged by Fleming Weaver and his committee, completed the full and celebratory day. Groups formed at the barn and corncrib, and especially at Mulberry Hall, the restored writing studio Reece built for himself after he erected the “new” home for his parents (now the welcome center). At Mulberry Hall, about-to-be Eagle Scout Tucker Knight calmly and confidently explained why he had chosen restoration of the interior of Mulberry Hall as his project.

Present was Karen Deem, partner in Deem-Loureiro Productions Inc., who headed “Vocies…Finding Byron Herbert Reece,” the video recently aired on Georgia Public Television and now in nomination for an Emmy Award in the category of educational and documentary films. Ms. Deem is working on interpretive educational signs that will be on display about the farm site. Present also were Dr. Bettie Sellers of Young Harris College and Dr. Helen Lewis, a retired Appalachian Studies professor, who headed the interviews for “The Bitter Berry with Friends,” remembrances from people who knew Reece. Mr. and Mrs. John Pentecost were recognized. This couple has donated their extensive collection of Appalachian farm and home tools and household implements to the Society for display at the site.

Since 2003 much progress has been made toward “preserving, perpetuating and promoting the literary and cultural legacy of Byron Herbert Reece.” Highway 129 from the old courthouse in Blairsville to the top of Neel Gap is now the Byron Herbert Reece Memorial Highway, by act of the Georgia Legislature. I, for one, am grateful that I signed on as a charter member of the Society nine years ago in 2003. Go to the Society’s website to keep abreast of progress. In the future (not for a while, for more work is in process) plan to visit the Reece Farm and Heritage Center, or better still, find out how you can help in this bold project. And if you haven’t yet read works of this mountain farmer/poet, find his four books of poetry and two novels and become a fan of this literary genius and his works.

What a great day of celebration was June 4, 2011!

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published June 9, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

June 6 ~ Anniversary of Normandy Beach Invasion, World War II

Many months and much secrecy went into planning maneuvers of the Normandy Beach Invasion of France. D-Day, June 6, 1944, has been termed “the longest day” as well as D-Day, the day on which a planned operation of warfare was to be implemented. Some like to call it “debarkation day,” the day when the actual offensive was launched.

General Dwight Eisenhower had been made Allied Supreme Commander of the forces planning for D-Day. Allies were lined up and included Great Britain, Canada, the United States, Free France and Poland. Parts of France had already capitulated to the Germans in 1940 and were occupied by the enemy. At least six months of intensive training, assimilation of forces and war materials, planning and top secrecy went into the preparation of this massive invasion of the Normandy Beachhead of France. The English Channel was the division line that had to be crossed from England to the beach on the French coast.

Operation Overlord was the overall name for the offensive attack. Two major phases were planned. The airborne assault was to land 24,000 British, Canadian, American and Free French troops shortly after midnight by parachute. The amphibious divisions were to land 195,700 naval and merchant naval personnel from over 5,000 ships. These soldiers and sailors were to cross the English Channel from the United Kingdom and were assigned specifically to a fifty-mile stretch of Normandy Beach. Due to inclement weather the assault had to be delayed, but still the weather played an important role.

General Eisenhower’s message sent to all the Allied Expeditionary Forces stated: “You are about to embark upon the great crusade toward which we have striven these many months.” In his pocket was another note to be read if the invasion failed. Fortunately for the allies, that note did not have to be read. June 6, 1944 arrived, and early in the morning airborne troops were the first wave, followed by seaborne troops at 6:30 a. m.

June 4 had been set as the launch day, but weather and tides delayed the operation two days. A full moon was needed for illumination and a spring tide was necessary for landing along Normandy Beach. The Germans thought the weather would prevent any invasion and had let down their guard somewhat, but chief allied meteorologist Captain J. M. Stagg, General Bernard Montgomery and Chief of Staff Walter Bedelle advised General Eisenhower to proceed on June 6. The German army was scattered and was only about 50% strong at the time of the invasion. This did not mean that the enemy was not still formidable; they were. But weather conditions, surprise and strength of the offensive contributed to the victory at Normandy.

The British Second Army with 83,000 troops landed at Sword, Juno and Gold. The US First Army with 73,000 soldiers, including 15,600 paratroopers, landed at Omaha Beach and Utah Beach. Omaha Beach was the most strongly fortified of any of those attacked. General Omar Bradley thought of abandoning the attack, but decided to stick with it, reinforce and expand operations, and struggled for survival and rescue.

At Utah Beach, the troop landing was off course and instead of debarking at Tare Green as planned, they went westward to Uncle Red and went ashore at a place they called the Victor sector. Maybe the name was prophetic, for we lost fewer troops at Utah Beach than any of the Normandy offensives. Only 197 Americans lost their lives there. Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. said, upon finding they were not at their targeted landing: “We will start the war from right here.” And that they did. They had great success in conquering the Utah Beach section of Normandy.

The story was somewhat sadder for Americans at a place called Pointe du Hoc. German gun placements were atop 100-feet high cliffs there. They had to scale the cliffs in the dark with ropes and ladders at 5:30 in the morning. After two days of hard fighting, 60% of the men who had landed were among the dead.

The fighting from June 6, 1944 through June 30, 1944 required great bravery. In 24 days the allies gained a firm foothold in Normandy. In all the annals of war history, the Normandy Beachhead landing was the largest amphibious and air landing before or since in history.

The casualties were extremely heavy for Americans and Allied troops. Many tourists now visit the beaches of Normandy to view the cemeteries with white crosses marking the graves of those who lost their lives and noted battlefields where thousands fell. Streets in towns are named for battles. A Museum of Peace is located at Coen. And in memory we recall the ultimate price for freedom thousands paid at the invasion of Normandy on D-Day in Operation Overlord.

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published June 2, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

In Union County We’re Apt to Call Memorial Day “Decoration Day”

I can see us in my mind’s eye, little children and adults as well, carrying live flowers in bouquets to the cemetery on “Decoration Day” to bedeck the graves of departed ancestors on a Sunday near Memorial Day at the end of May, or maybe a Sunday in early June.

In the country, we were more apt to call this day of remembrance “Decoration Day,” for we placed with deep love and remembrance those spring flowers—or if we didn’t have “live, blooming” flowers—we took bouquets of those made with crepe paper and fashioned to look like roses, tulips, or dainty daisies.

Here’s how Memorial Day, the last day of May, began back on April 26, 1865.

Our country had just gone through a dark, dark period called the War Between the States, the Civil War, or—as some in the South call it, even today--the War of Northern Aggression.

A group of women in Columbus, Mississippi announced their plans to march together in a group to Friendship Cemetery in that town and lay flowers on the graves of soldiers buried there—soldiers from both South and North who had fallen at the Battle of Shiloh. The town’s elders were not in favor of the women’s march and laying flowers, for they felt it would only be a reminder of the bitter conflict and again renew the animosities the elders hoped could be buried with the men who had fallen, as all were trying to recover and redirect energies in the aftermath of the struggle.

But the women were adamant. They marched, despite the town elders’ objections, taking with them arms full of beautiful spring blossoms to place lovingly and with gratitude at the graves of the fallen soldiers.

Word of what the women in Columbus, Mississippi did on April 26, 1865 spread rapidly. An article about their act in the New York “Tribune” inspired Francis Miles Finch, to write a poem which he entitled “The Blue and the Gray.” In the poem he lauded the laying of flowers, alike, “for friend and foe.” This notice and sentiment went far in helping the rift to be healed. Memorial Day as it is observed today on the last Monday in May grew from that original remembrance of the ladies of Columbus, Mississippi as they placed flowers in commemoration of those who had met their deaths in the Civil War.

Three years later, in 1868, an organization called the Grand Army of the Republic, Northern veterans, declared May 30 as the day for “strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died.” New York was the first state to recognize the day, state-wide, and observe it in 1873. More and more states joined in the celebration. Finally Memorial Day was made a national holiday, with patriotic programs a part of the observance and memorials lifted in praise of the war dead of every war that has touched America.

When we in the country observe “Decoration Day” in our churches, we are remembering not only our “war dead,” but also those ancestors who braved the unknown, whatever their goals, to take a stand for a better way of life for all.

When we take time to decorate the graves of our beloved dead near Memorial Day—or our “Decoration Day”—we are bestowing flowers—symbols of life renewed. We honor the lives of those who went before us to pave the way and make life better for us. At the same time, we are symbolizing that we take up the torch of those who have gone before us and bear it to the future, acknowledging our own responsibility to those who will follow us.

“Decoration Day”—Memorial Day—is a solemn time of reflection, remembrance and resolution. Aren’t we glad this special day is a part of our mountain country heritage?

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published May 26, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Constitutional Convention, May through September, 1787

Do you ever wonder how it might have been to participate in the forming of the United States Constitution in May, 1787?

That auspicious gathering intrigues me. I search for writings or records of how those men from every state then (formerly colonies) except Rhode Island (which chose not to send delegates) might have managed during those long months from May through September, 1787 when debate was rife and “think tanks” worked out details of the Constitution. Finally enough states ratified the document and it became operational in June, 1788 when New Hampshire became the ninth state to sign for its adoption.

How did the Constitutional Convention of May, 1787 come about?

By late 1786, almost three years after the close of the Revolutionary War, the discovery was made that the Articles of Confederation that then guided the new nation were too weak to deal with all the problems of economy, politics and diplomatic relations of the new nation. Attempts to revise the Articles of Confederation had met with stalemates and non-approval from state legislatures. America, the new nation, seemed to be at a crossroads. Then, in February, 1787, the Continental Congress made this resolution and sent out notices to all the state governments. The memo read:

“It is expedient that on the second Monday in May next a Convention of delegates who shall have been appointed by the several states be held at Philadelphia for the sole and express purpose of revising the Articles of Confederation.”

This called convention met, beginning on May 14, 1787 in Statehouse in Philadelphia where the Continental Congress had been meeting. However, it went slowly at first, with delegates from states “dribbling in” for representation. A quorum was not reached until May 25, 1787. A total of 70 men had been appointed as delegates to the Convention, but only 55 ultimately attended during the months from May through September 17, 1787. They examined the Articles of Confederation and found them inadequate for the new nation. A new document was needed. It took the delegates four months to reach an agreement and sign the document that became the Constitution of the United States when enough states ratified it in June, 1788. And further, of those 55 attending; only 39 of them actually signed the important document when it was ready for approval by the delegates.

Those appointed to represent the state of Georgia were Abraham Baldwin, William Few, William Houstoun, and William L. Pierce. However, only two of Georgia’s delegates, Abraham Baldwin and William Few, placed their signatures on the document on September 17, 1787. Abraham Baldwin, in particular, was an important and very active member of the Constitutional Convention as the work proceeded. A native of Guilford, Connecticut, he had migrated to Georgia after the Revolution, in which he had served as a chaplain. He had also studied law, and in 1784 had been admitted to the Georgia bar. In the Constitutional Convention of 1787, he was appointed to the committee to resolve the question of representation in House of Representatives and Senate. His vote broke the deadlocked tie, and he stands out as the one who made the determining vote that the Senate would have two elected from each state, and the House of Representatives would be based on the quota of population of each state. The compromise bill was adopted concerning representation, and Abraham Baldwin was most influential in its passage. Not only was he outstanding in the U. S. Constitutional Convention, but earlier, as he served in the Georgia Legislature, he wrote the charter for Franklin College that became the University of Georgia. We as Georgians have much to be grateful for in Abraham Baldwin’s leadership in the US Constitutional Convention.

In a letter that has been preserved written by George Mason, representative from Virginia, to his son, we glean some interesting insights into some of the events of those long months from May to September when debates raged and committees met and thrashed out differences. He writes about common concerns and practical matters: “We found traveling very expensive—from eight to nine dollars per day. In this city the living is cheap. We are at the old Indian Queen in Fourth Street, where we are well-accommodated, have a good room to ourselves, and are charged only twenty-five Pennsylvania Currency per day, including our servants and horses, exclusive of extra charges, so that I hope I shall be able to defray my expenses with my public allowance, and more than that I do not wish.” (from David Colbert’s “Eyewitness to America,” Pantheon, 1997, p. 99). Whether Georgia’s Baldwin and Few, and the others from the twelve states represented had similar “public allowance” for representing their state at the Convention, I know not, but perhaps it would be safe to assume they did have some remuneration for travel expenses, room and board, horses’ keep, and other expenses.

The convention in Philadelphia drew up one of the most influential documents of Western world history. James Madison, a delegate from Virginia, was a definite leader and responsible for much of the substance of the constitution. But it was to the flair and pen of Gouverneur Morris from Pennsylvania that the task of writing the final document was given.

We’ve seen artists’ renderings of the signing on September 17, 1787 and thrilled to the sight of reproductions of the document with all the signatures. Then came the document’s travel to each of the states during the next months. Delaware was the first to ratify it on December 7, 1787 and finally by June of 1788 the nine required had signed and the document was officially adopted. Finally all the thirteen states but Rhode Island and North Carolina ratified it. The majority clause caused the Constitution to be adopted. Later, the two declining states did accept it and took their place in the Union.

Reticence of some states to sign was based on what was considered a need for a Bill of Rights. James Madison, true to his word, promised to work on this issue, and in September of 1789 the Bill of Rights was proposed in Congress. It was adopted in December, 1791. The original ten have been added to throughout the years since our national government’s struggle following the Revolution.

As a high school student in Civics class, I was required to memorize the Preamble to the Constitution. Throughout my life, since then, I have thrilled to the words that have helped to hold our nation together in unity. It would be well that we read and heed seriously what our national leaders in 1787 used as the lofty introduction to our Constitution:

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published May 19, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Denton Families Important to Towns County Development

Last week’s column introduced the Denton Family early settlers to Union County, dating back as far as 1834, when the first census revealed that seventeen by that name in three families were living in the county. The heads of Denton households then were James, Elizabeth and Eliza Denton. In the 1840 listing, we found five households headed by Levina, Samuel, Jonathan, Elijah and George M., with the Union population of Dentons then numbering twenty-three. In 1850, the Dentons were in six families numbering a total of thirty-one, headed by George, Samuel, Jonathan, Samuel, Jr., William, Elihu, and Elijah.

A precursory examination of the 1860 and 1870 Union census records did not reveal a single household of Dentons in Union. What had happened to most of these families of earlier decade census tabulations? Had a mass exodus of Denton families occurred within the twenty year period between 1850 and 1870? Furthermore, an examination of the Union County Cemetery records did not reveal marked Denton graves within the parameters of Union.

Knowing that Denton was a very prominent name in neighboring Towns County, it was rather easy to surmise what had occurred. When Towns County was formed from portions of Union in 1856, several of the Denton families, without moving from the properties they had occupied when the 1850 census was taken, had been absorbed into the new principality of Towns.

Take, for example, the family of George and Catherine Wood Denton, present in Union in 1840 and 1850. They were within the parameters of the new Towns, and were quickly oriented to life there, not having moved at all. In fact, George Denton helped the new county in its early years by being appointed (or should we say “elected”) the county’s very first Tax Collector—maybe not a very popular job but a necessary one, nonetheless, to the government of the new county.

In addition to being a farmer in the Upper Hightower section of Towns County, George also was a land surveyor. He used this skill to map out the county seat town of Hiawassee and to survey farms and holdings of other citizens. Last week’s column listed six children of George and Catherine Wood Denton. Altogether, George and his wife, the daughter of William and Nancy Osborn Wood, had eleven children whose names and birth dates are as follows: Elizabeth J. (1837), William J. (1839), Elisha H. (1841), Nancy (1843), Samuel M. (1845), Jeremiah J. (1847), John M. (1851), Martha Ann (1853), Lucinda A. (1856), Margaret M. (1856), Mary C. (1860) and Georgia (?). George and Catherine moved from the Upper Hightower section of Towns to White County. When George was back for a visit to one of his children still residing there, he became ill and died, and was buried in the Upper Hightower Baptist Church Cemetery. It is believed Catherine died and was buried in White County.

The third child of George and Catherine, Elisha H. Denton (1841-1922) joined the Confederacy during the Civil War, enlisting on August 24, 1861 and serving through January, 1865, having reached the rank of Lieutenant during his enlistment. Returning to Towns County, he married his sweetheart, Cinthia Berrong, on January 18, 1865. She was a daughter of another well-known pioneer family, Andrew Jackson and L. Osborn Berrong. Elisha and Cinthia made their home in the Swallows Creek Community of Towns County where ten children were born to them: Lillie A. (1867-1936) who married Taylor Wood and Alex Parker; Robert M. (1868-1934) who married Maggie Rogers; Louisa Caroline (1870-1938) who married Elisha Eller; James L. (1872-1941) who married Esta Foster; Ollie M (1874-1892), never married; Phairella O. (1876-1955) who married Joe Hooper; Erastus M. (1878-1936) who married Nannie McLucas; Demascus (1881-1961) who married Minnie Smith; Esco (1884-1952) who married Ora Foster; and Doll (a son, 1886-1964) who married Myrtle Eller.

Of the many descendants of George M. and Catherine Wood Denton, we can identify businessmen, bankers, educators, politicians, farmers, developers—almost every occupation.

For example, James Young Denton (1899-1982), son of Robert M. and Maggie Rogers Denton, became a noted banker and financier, having been instrumental in the growth of the Bank of Hiawassee and in securing the charter for the Union County Bank in Blairsville, and getting it established. He married Emma Belle Maney on May 20, 1920 when she was only fourteen years of age. Young was then a teacher, and he enrolled his young bride in the Hiawassee Academy. J. Y., as he was better known, and Emma Denton became quite a team. She, too, became a noted worker and director of the Bank of Hiawassee, was a horticulturist with her daylilies known far and wide. They had six children, five of whom reached adulthood and became productive citizens. Their children were J. C. Denton, Evelyn Denton (Groves), Elois Denton (Anderson), James Lanier Denton who died young from whooping cough, J. William Denton, and Emma Jean Denton (Anderson).

Another of the children of Robert M. and Maggie Rogers Denton was their daughter Isabel, born April 28, 1906, who became a noted elementary school teacher mainly in Towns County but also in White and Forsyth Counties in a career that spanned forty-three years. When my husband, the late Rev. Grover D. Jones, was pastor of the McConnell Memorial Baptist Church in Hiawassee, among our loyal members were Mrs. Isabel Hall and her beloved husband, Mr. Leonard Hall. As a young ministerial couple, we were “taken in,” encouraged and loved by this couple who often had us in their home as guests. Isabel Denton married widower Leonard Hall, a veteran of World War I, on June 29, 1947. Mrs. Isabel Denton Hall was noted not only for her work in the school system, but she served a total of twenty-five years as Hiawassee Baptist Association’s Church Training Director. When Leonard and Isabel passed on, we felt like we had lost some of our very dearest friends.

Doll Denton (1886-1964), tenth and last child of Elisha H. and Cinthia Berrong Denton, and grandson of George M. and Catherine Wood Denton, also lived in Towns County. Beset by Hodgkins disease, one of Doll’s legs had to be amputated in 1960. But he learned to walk with his prosthesis as he carried on a near-normal work life on his farm and later assisted his son-in-law, Ayscue Hopper (married to Doll’s daughter Grace), near Tuckaseegee, NC with the operation of his farm. Doll Denton married Myrtle Eller on September 10, 1905. To them were born nine children, seven daughters and two sons: Mae Belle, Grace, Gladys, Dorsey, Edith, Ethel, George, Opal and Earl. Remembered for their strong work ethic and their stalwart Christian influence, Doll and Myrtle Denton stand out as productive citizens of the area. After Doll’s death in 1964 and his burial at Lower Hightower Cemetery in Towns County, his widow Myrtle lived alternately with her daughters Edith Denton Chambers and Ethel Denton Everett in Blairsville until Myrtle’s death on March 31, 1970.

Denton is a place name deriving from the Old English word “denu” meaning valley. Scots and English settlers came to America in the early migratory years and found similar valleys to their European homelands among the hills of Virginia, North and South Carolina, and Georgia. We are grateful for these hardy settlers who made a dinstinctive “Dent” in the way of life in these mountain communities.

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published May 12, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Denton Families ~ Early Settlers in Union County

After a brief diversion to pursue another topic, I return in this column to write about families with the surname Denton who were early settlers in Union County.

In the 1834 Union County census, three families had the name Denton, with seventeen total Denton residents, eight males and nine females. Two heads of households of these early settlers were women with similar names: Eliza Denton had two males and two females in her household. Elizabeth Denton had two males and one female residing in her home. The third Denton household was headed by James Denton whose family had four males and six females.

I expected to find these three households listed in the 1840 Union census, but the search for these three Denton families was not that easy, for none of the three appeared as heads of households in 1840 or in 1850.

Five residences in 1840 had Dentons as follows: Household numbered by the census taker as 115 had Levina Denton (one female between the age of 20 and under 30).

Further on, in household 328. was Samuel Denton, with three males under five, one male aged 20-30, 1 female under five, and 1 female aged 20 – 30. (Note: This Samuel Denton is not to be confused with the Samuel Denton, Jr. who, we will learn shortly, married Elizabeth Ann Chastain.)

Jonathan Denton in household numbered 331 had the largest of the 1840 Denton families with one male (10-15), two males (15-20), one male (40-50), one female (5-10), one female (10-15), one female (15-20) and one female (30-40). We will see that his household is also listed in 1850.

In Elijah Denton’s family (house # 469) was one male (10-15), one male (40-50) and one female (30-40).

The last Denton household in 1840 was # 471, George M. Denton, with one male (under 5), one male (20-30), one female (under 5), one female (20-30) and 1 female (60-70). The older female in Jonathan’s household may have been either Eliza or Elizabeth listed in 1834, who possibly was the mother of George Denton.

By the 1850 census, the number of Denton households had climbed to six in Union’s census, and we find that some of the names are the same as those we discovered living in the county in 1840. The total Denton population in 1850 in Union numbered 31 as follows:

Household 929: George Denton, age 37, his wife, Catherine, age 31, both born in North Carolina, and six children, all born in Georgia: Elizabeth, 13; William, 11; Elisha, 9; Nancy, 7; Madison, 5; and Jeremiah J., 2. This household had also been in Union since 1840. We will hear more about these in next week’s column.

Household 1057: Samuel Denton, 25, born in Tennessee, his wife, Missa, 23, born in North Carolina, and children John, 6; Mary, 4: and Melissa, 4 months. A search of the Union marriage records shows this Samuel Denton married Artemica Berrong on August 5, 1842. She must have preferred her shortened name, Missa, to Artemica.

Household 1081: Jonathan Denton (remember he was listed in the 1840 census), age 56, his wife, Agnes, age 46, both born in North Carolina, two older children also born in North Carolina, Francis, 20 and Rachel, 15; and three more children born in Georgia: Jonathan, 10; John, 7; Agnes, 5. Living in the household with them (as in 1840) was Betsey Denton, age 79, born in Virginia, no doubt the Elizabeth listed in the 1834 census. By searching the Pierre Chastain Family History (for several Dentons married into this line of Chastains), I discovered that Jonathan Denton was a son of Samuel Denton, Jr. and his wife, Elizabeth Chastain Denton. “Betsy,” living with Jonathan and Agnes in 1850, was, indeed his mother who was the Elizabeth Denton in Union by 1834. Her father was the famous Rev. John “Ten Shilling Bell” Chastain, known for establishing several Baptist churches in Virginia and the Carolinas. Her mother was Rev. Chastain’s first wife, Mary O’Bryan Chastain. Samuel Denton, Jr. was born in 1775 and died in Haywood County, NC before some of the Dentons moved into Union County prior to 1834. Elizabeth and Samuel Denton, Jr. had these known children: Jonas, Jonathan, Jemima Mimi who married John Middleton; Elijah who married Jane Coward; Hulda who married Mark Burrell; John N. who married Sarah (mnu), Cloey who married James Coward; Isaac; and George (1813-1881) who married Catherine Wood (more on this family later).

This second son of Samuel, Jr. and Elizabeth Chastain Denton, Jonathan Denton, was born May 12, 1794 and died February 17, 1881. His wife, Agnes, was a McConnell, born in 1804 and died August 23, 1860.

Jonathan and Agnes had two older children who were already married and gone from home by the 1850 census. Their oldest was Samuel (b. 1822) who married Artimissey (sic) Berrong in 1842. They were living in their home near his parents in 1850.

Jonathan and Agnes’ other older child, gone from home in 1860, was Elizabeth Ann Denton, born in 1824, who married Walter Mounteville Burrell on July 16, 1840, with Rev. Abner Chastain performing their ceremony. This family lived in Household numbered 1090 in 1850. He was 33, she 25, both born in North Carolina. Their children were William, 9, Jonathan, 7, John, 6, Marcus, 4, Laura, 2 and Sarah, 4 months.

Household 1082: William Denton, listed as a teacher, age 30, and his wife, Betsy Ann, age 27, both born in North Carolina. They had three children in 1850, all born in Georgia: Jane, age 8, Sarah, age 5, and Elizabeth, age 7 months. Union marriage records show William Denton married Elizabeth Ann Chastain on January 26, 1841 with Rev. Abner Chastain performing their ceremony.

Household 1085: Elihu Denton, age 23, born in Georgia, his wife, Marcena, 20, born in North Carolina, and their one month old male son, Pinckney, born in Georgia. I looked for this marriage record in Union’s listings, but did not find these names.

Household 1086: Elijah Denton, born in South Carolina, age 52, and his wife, Jane, age 47, born in North Carolina. This couple was listed in the 1840 census with a son, age between 10 and 15 still at home then. From what I learned in the Chastain book, Elijah was the fourth child of Samuel Denton, Jr. and his wife, Elizabeth Chastain Denton. Elijah was born in 1798 and married Jane Coward.

In next week’s column, we will pursue some of these Denton families to other places where they became a part of the fabric of new counties as they formed.

[Note: My columns have not gotten to the paper by the deadline on a regular basis recently because of computer breakdowns due to severe storms. Call the delays an “act of nature” rather than my being ill or negligent. We were not severely damaged, like hard-hit areas, but we were without power for three days and many electronics were damaged in the storms that raged at different times My computer was a “victim”, and hard was the task to get up and running adequately again.-EDJ]

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published May 5, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.