Lard Pail Lunches and Shared Knowledge (or Life in a Country School ~ Part 3)

Through the past two columns, I have shared memories of attending and teaching my first year in the same country school. I hope this journey back in time brought to mind some good memories of your “grade school” years, wherever you attended. It is good to remember foundations in life that helped to mold and make us into life-long learners. I was fortunate to gain a good education even under what may seem now a rather outdated system. To conclude this series on life in a country school, I will pinpoint some memorable incidents that made a lasting impression on me.

We had in the corner of each of the two classrooms at Choestoe School a wooden cabinet with doors. This book cabinet was the “library” for that particular classroom. When we finished our assignments, we had freedom to go to that cabinet, select a book from the shelf, take it to our desk and read it quietly. It was a great achievement in first grade to have learned phonics and “sounding out” words well enough to become competent to select a book to read from our “library” resources. The teachers, to encourage good reading habits, kept a chart with students’ names on the wall beside the book cabinet. A colored star was placed beside the name of each student who successfully read and reported to the teacher on books from this cabinet. These “star” awards seemed to work well as motivational devices to encourage reading. I often wondered how the library was furnished with books. That old classroom library was there in 1936, and it seemed to grow more books year by year—even before the days when Dr. M. D. Collins led state schools to have library resources and before the bookmobile from the regional public library began to make its regular monthly stop at Choestoe School. The bookmobile was an innovation by the time I taught there in the 1948-1949 school year. My life-time love for reading and books was encouraged by that library cabinet in a reading corner of Choestoe classroom long ago.

I recall a memorable field trip. When I was a seventh grader in 1943 at Choestoe School, and just prior to going to high school by riding the bus the next school year, we had our first-ever field trip. Mrs. Florence Hunter was my teacher, and she was known for getting things done. Her husband, Mr. Joe Hunter, was a county school bus driver. So Mrs. Florence and he made arrangements and got permission to take the fourth-through-seventh graders to Atlanta on a Saturday. All who could go loaded on that old bus early, early on a Saturday morning while it was still dark. We had a most memorable trip to visit the State Capitol building, the Atlanta Zoo, and the Cyclorama. I had never been to Atlanta before that notable trip, and that was probably true of the other children on that bus trip. Mrs. Florence managed to take snacks and drinks, and we had been instructed to bring our own lunch as we would have a picnic at Grant Park. What a notable building was our capitol where state government was conducted. How interesting to see all the strange animals at the zoo, some we had only read about and seen pictures of in books at Choestoe School. Then the panorama and story of the Civil War in Atlanta in the Cyclorama display was a first-hand, up close lesson in history.

We were a group of exhausted young children, sleeping on the long trip from Atlanta back to Choestoe after a full and exciting day. I’ve thought many times about how meaningful that trip was for us children, and of the sacrifice in time, money and influence expended by Mr. and Mrs. Hunter. They were able to give us a first-hand view of life beyond the confines of our mountain community. And to look back now and realize that in 1943 when we made that field trip during World War II, there was gasoline and tire rationing. For Mr. Hunter to be able to use some of his allotment of scarce items to take country school children to Atlanta was indeed a notable happening.

Graduation from that country school was a memorable occasion. We had a graduation program, not only with the two top graduates speaking with valedictory and salutatory addresses, but we had a program in which other grades participated with music and recitations. In fact, some of the programs we had for parents at that school during my seven years of learning there were so poignant that I can remember even now lines of poems I memorized to recite. Even though our teachers had few resources, they managed to make learning challenging and interesting. They gave us opportunities such as “Parents’ Night” or “Parents’ Day” when we could “show and tell” some of the things we had learned.

When I graduated from seventh grade country school, my future career as a teacher was already in my mind. I knew I wanted to be a teacher. In that way I could somehow repay Mrs. Mert Shuler, my own sister, Louise Dyer, Miss Opal Sullivan, Mrs. Bonnie Snow, and Mrs. Florence Hunter who had been my able teachers in my seven years as a student at Choestoe School. And so it was that in 1948 I returned to that same school, armed with two years of college and a provisional Georgia teacher’s certificate, ready to teach. As I greeted the twenty-five students in seven grades—for the school, by the time I returned to teach there—had a drop in student population and only one teacher could be hired for the seven grades. Talk about a challenge—a first-year teacher and twenty-five eager students scattered in every grade from first through seventh! I conducted classes much as my own teachers had done in the seven years when I was a student in that school. I had an excellent helper in a very brilliant seventh grade student named Shirley. Without neglecting her own instruction, I allowed her to help me mentor some of the younger students with their math, spelling and reading.

Looking back, I count that year as a teacher in country school as one of my happiest and best, although it was hard, with all the responsibilities falling to me. In that first year of my thirty-year teaching career, I learned to be teacher and administrator, how to cultivate parental support, how to instruct with enthusiasm and how to motivate students to achieve. I had learned to teach by having been taught myself by exemplary role models.

Education has gone through many changes since those days from 1936-1943 when I was a student in country school and took my lunch in a lard pail and had the privilege of shared knowledge because students learned from each other as well as from the teacher. And my year of teaching there, 1948-1949, was foundational to who I became as a teacher. Have we lost some significant aspects of education in these modern days? Then we had the privilege of learning from and being challenged by upper classmen whose recitations we heard. We had concepts drilled into us until the learning became second nature. There is much to laud and praise for our heritage of “lard pail lunches and shared knowledge.” Then eager students gathered at a country school under the auspices of ones called and dedicated to the important role of teacher.

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published November 10, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Lard Pail Lunches and Shared Knowledge (or Life in a Country School ~ Part 1)

Choestoe School in Union County, Georgia, 1936 through 1943 has a special place in my memory, in things I love, and in who I became in life. It also figures in my first year of a thirty-year teaching career, for it was there, where I started school, that I returned to teach my very first year as a young, inexperienced, fresh-out-of-junior-college state provisionally certified teacher.

Choestoe schoolhouse has been moved from its former location and now stands on land that was once my Daddy’s, then my brother’s, my own, my son’s, and now the county’s. The old Choestoe school house is being restored and will eventually be used as a voting precinct building and perhaps a community clubhouse.

But what took place there in the building’s heyday as a schoolhouse? Come with me to learn about “Lard Pail Lunches and Shared Knowledge.”

I received my early education in a two-teacher country school from 1936 through 1943. I never felt deprived educationally from this inauspicious start. In high school, college and graduate school, I regarded my elementary school education as excellent and special indeed.

Not only did I begin my education in a two-teacher country school, but my first year of teaching was in that same school in 1949-1950. “You can’t go home again,” as proposed by author Thomas Wolfe in his novel, Look Homeward, Angel, did not apply to me. I returned home to teach with anticipation and joy, and gratitude that the Union County School Board would consider a product of that school to be worthy to teach there.

By 1949, due to declining pupil population, Choestoe had become a one-teacher school. Having attended that school myself the very first year the “new” two-room building opened, and then returning thirteen years later to teach my first year there at the same school, were both rich and rewarding experiences for me.

Let us look at life in Choestoe School from 1936 through 1943, the years I was a student in its hallowed halls. From Primer through Seventh Grade I was educated at that school. Choestoe had been an early school, although the building in which I attended was brand new in 1936. Previous schools had preceded the one I knew so well. Early settlers began the school, some of my ancestors with surnames like Dyer, Souther, Collins, Hunter, Nix, Self and England, to name a few. Many of these forebears were in the county when it was founded in 1832. And straightaway they began a school at various locations, not necessarily on the same spot as the new building of 1936. Earlier, a log building used for both school and church had been replaced by a two-room, two-story frame school building. On the upper floor of the old building, the Choestoe Masonic Lodge met. I can vaguely remember attending events in that building when my older brother Eugene and my sister Louise went to school there. Even as a young child, the steps to the second floor fascinated me and I wondered what lay beyond the confines of what I could see.

The brand new building in which I began my educational adventures in 1936 had two rooms, both on the ground level. A covered open vestibule-type entrance was at the front. Two front doors led in from the vestibule to the classrooms. The “lower grades” (primer through third) classroom was on the left and the “upper grades” (fourth through seventh) was on the right. Each classroom had a cloak/storage room across the front where we had pegs to hang our coats and shelves to set our “lard bucket” lunch pails. If we wore galoshes over our shoes in rainy or snowy weather, we removed them and left them in the cloak room while we were in class. Also in that room were bookcase shelves in one end of the room on which the extra textbooks were aligned, grade-wise.

The classrooms were separated by a removable partition, ceiled with wood on both sides. I can remember my father and other men in the community taking down those partitions to provide a large space. A raised stage was put in place and the classrooms could then accommodate our school programs.

Each classroom was heated by a wood heater, an iron stove (not the usual “pot” bellied) a low, oblong heater with a door on the front into which to feed the wood. Parents (or patrons of the school) were required to haul their fair share of the wood consumed throughout the months heat was needed. Long tin stovepipes connected the heater to the common chimney that was outside the building about where the middle partition was located that separated the classrooms.

That first nervous day—in July, 1936—we students waited outside, anticipating what school might be like until “the principal,”—the upper-grades teacher, rang the school bell—our signal that “books” (or classes) were to begin. Miss Opal Sullivan was the upper grades teacher, a trim, beautiful young lady who seemed to me then all-too-young to be a teacher. She stood in the school entrance on the right side, awaiting her fourth through seventh grade pupils to line up in an orderly row. Mrs. Mert Shuler Collins was the primary grades teacher. She stood at the school entrance on the left side. She patiently showed the new pupils like me how to line up. When everyone was quiet and in order, we were given the signal to proceed.

Once we were inside that primary side of the magnificent new school building, it was not hard for us to tell which desks were for the primer and first grade students. The very smallest individual wooden desks were in a row nearest the line of tall, glowing windows. I quickly found one in a location I liked, and soon it seemed to me that I had found a new home. And, indeed, I had, because from that first day of school in 1936 until the present, I have found my home-away-from home in classrooms, wherever they have opened welcoming doors to me.

[To be continued: Part 2 of “Lard Pail Lunches and Shared Knowledge”. Note: This story, in modified form, written by Ethelene Dyer Jones, appeared first in Moonshine and Blind Mules edited by Bob Lasley and Sallie Holt. Hickory, NC: Hometown Memories Publishing Co., 2006, pp. 88-91. Used by permission.]

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published October 27, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

On the Farm…Coordinating Farm Work with School

Now we say “back in the olden days.” That can be a long, long time ago or when we ourselves were children. In those days, work on the farm had to be coordinated with the schedule of school in session if country boys and girls were to get anything like an adequate education.

During the twenty-five year tenure of Dr. Mauney Douglas Collins’s leadership as state school superintendent (1933-1957), Georgia schools went from seven to nine months of school. Having long times out when schools were closed for farm work was to be a thing of the past in Georgia. But memories of those times when farm work was coordinated with school sessions were a part of growing up on the farm. I recall how I started to the brand new building at Choestoe School in July of 1936, after “laying by” of crops when the summer session began.

“Time to get ready for school,” my mother gently shook my shoulder, awakening me.

Immediately I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I could beg off, tell her I felt ‘sick to my stomach’ and I wouldn’t have to go to school. It’s not that I didn’t want to go. I just dreaded the unknown. I liked staying home, the familiar places and routines. I liked watching my three-year old brother Bluford while Mother worked.

Things with which I was comfortable and familiar were about to change for an adventure called school. I reluctantly crawled out of bed, washed my face and eyes with the warm wet washcloth my mother handed me. Then I put on my new flowered dress with a white collar trimmed in rick-rack. Mother had made it especially for me to wear on my first day at school. It was a pretty “feed-sack” dress. My father had let me select the pattern of cloth on the feed bags when I went with him to the store to buy the feed. After the bags were empty of their contents and carefully laundered and ironed, then my mother cut out my dress and made it on her Singer treadle-powered sewing machine. I felt very dressed up. It would be interesting to see if any of the other girls at school would have a dress made from the same pattern of cloth as mine. If that happened, it would be all right, for we all knew that our mothers made use of feed sacks to fashion our wardrobes.

After a breakfast of oatmeal, scrambled egg, bacon, biscuits, gravy and a glass of milk, I was well fed and ready to leave for school after brushing my teeth. My mother walked the mile with me on this first day to get me used to going to school. After talking to my teacher, Mrs. Mert Collins, probably giving her information about my birthdate, my mother left. It was not long until Miss Opal Sullivan, the teacher of the upper grades, and considered the principal, too, rang a bell she held in her hands, the signal that “books” (as I learned the term later) or school-time was to begin.

We lined up in two rows in front of our beautiful, brand new Choestoe School building that had just been finished by men of the community working hard on it. This new building replaced a very old two-stories, two-room building that had served the community for years, with an upstairs where the Lodge met. The old building had been torn down to make way for the new one. The new schoolhouse had two rooms and was only one-story. One room was for grades Primer through third, and one for grades four through seven. Each room also had a “cloak” room, a small anteroom where, in wintertime, we hung our coats on pegs, with book shelves for textbooks built in one end of the room, and a low shelf running the length of the room on which we set our lunch pails we had brought with us.

Once inside, a sense of excitement prevailed. Mrs. Mert kindly showed each of the pupils where we were to sit by grades, although the size of the desks helped with that seating arrangement. The primer/first grade desks were smaller than those of the second and third graders. She explained that we were to go to the recitation bench alongside her teacher’s desk when we were having our lesson. When it was not our time to recite (I learned that meant to read or do our numbers), we were to work quietly at our desks, practicing our letters and numbers or reading quietly. She opened a cabinet in one corner of the room up front. She explained that it had additional books that we could get—one at a time—and take to our seat to read. She encouraged us to do this, assuring the primer/first graders that we, too, would soon know how to read.

And then class began. We stood and said the pledge of allegiance to the United States flag which was at the front of the room, in a little stand. Mrs. Mert (as she wanted us to call her) read a Psalm from the Bible and led in a prayer. And the first graders were called first to go up to the bench to begin learning how to read. Some of my classmates did not know the alphabet and the sounds associated with each letter, but I already knew my letters and their sounds. In fact, the little “Dick and Jane” reader Mrs. Mert gave us seemed so simple to me. I had already learned to read at home. My older sister, Louise, and my brother, Eugene (who were already in high school and met the bus at Morris Ford to ride it to Blairsville), had helped me with reading. So had my mother and father. I could already read straight through the Primer Reader. Mrs. Mert must have wondered what she would do with me to keep me on task and working. But I was to learn that she was attuned to pupils and had a good grasp of how to meet their needs.

When she showed us the books cabinet at the front of the room, I made a personal resolution to read all the books in that cabinet, one at a time, until I had read through all of them during the three years I was in this first through third grade classroom. That small library in the corner of our classroom held such a fascination for me that I was never bored while in that room. Later, to bolster our desire to read, Mrs. Mert made a reading chart with each pupil’s name. As we finished a book, and satisfied her that we had read it by giving an oral or a written report, she would place a star after our name.

We had a mid-morning short recess for water (we brought our own glass from home) and rest room break (outside toilets, one for girls and one for boys fulfilled this need). Then came more lessons, and at noon, we had a longer break. We took our tin lunch pails, got water in our glass from the water bucket in the cloak room (Mrs. Mert poured it so we wouldn’t spill it and make a wet mess), and then went outside to find a seat under the shade of the trees. In my lunch pail Mother had packed a piece of boiled corn and a baked sweet potato, a biscuit with bacon, and a piece of gingerbread. This fare was sufficient and would do until I went home in mid-afternoon when a snack would surely await me. Lunch break was a longer time. The upper grades played a game of ball. Some pupils laid off a hop-scotch form on the ground and played that in competition. We younger children had pretend games, made a playhouse under the trees, or played tag. No playground equipment was available for use. We made our own games.

Inside the school building, I began to feel quite at home. The dread of something new and different had quickly dissipated. That first day of school, in my first six-weeks session in July and August during the “summer school” and before we were out in the fall for harvesting crops—especially in my case working in the cane and assisting with sorghum syrup making—we had an idyllic summer. Books opened up for me to wonderful worlds of adventure. I liked my teacher and my classmates. In fact, I liked school. Maybe it was even then, in that wonderful primary grades classroom, that I gained my desire to become a teacher when I grew up.

Thirteen years into the future from my first day of school, I would return to the same school in 1949, then as the only teacher in a school that had been reduced from two-teachers to one because of school population. I was a brand new teacher, fresh out of Truett McConnell College with a two-year degree and a Georgia provisional teaching certificate. I had twenty-five students in my class that fall, grades primer through seventh, at least one in every grade, with the largest class being fifth grade with five pupils. To be able to teach was both a challenge and an opportunity. I remembered my first day of school in that very building, and had as my aim making school both enjoyable and profitable, as my teacher Mrs. Mert had done for me in 1936.

c2011 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published July 7, 2011 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Memorial Day and Thoughts on Freedom

We have a valuable gift, one not wrapped and tied with ribbons. It is intrinsic to America and our constitutional way of life. The gift is costly. The gift is freedom and it has been bought with blood and tears, life and limbs, sacrifice and abnegation.

Memorial Day is a time of reflection on aspects of freedom, its cost in lives and in sacrifice, not only in those who bore arms and met death in service, but the families who suffer through terrible losses.

When some casualties of military service were returned to Choestoe for memorial rites, I was young. But the impression made on me of how young men laid down their lives was deeply imbedded within. I remember the funeral service for James Jasper Hunter (August 16, 1923-December 5, 1945). He was a cousin who died not in battle but as a result of a transfer truck accident. Multiple family members and community people gathered to mourn on that cold, dark winter day when his casket lay ready to be lowered into the grave. Our pastor, the Rev. Claud Boynton, gave accolades of Jasper's service, of his dying young but heroically. Then later, another member of the same family, William Jack Hunter (Sept. 2, 1932 - August 5, 1954) died at sea. Both Jasper and Jack were sons of William Jesse Hunter (1886- 1982) and Sadie Collins Hunter (1900-1979).

Brothers James Jasper Hunter and William Jack Hunter were in military service when they died. They were willing to lay down their lives for their country, but were not killed in battle.

Later, even after the major conflicts of World War II had ended or were drawing to a close, another of our Choestoe boys, James Ford Lance (March 14, 1927 - January 12, 1946) was returned for burial. We gathered at Chostoe's Salem Methodist Church to mourn with his family and bid farewell to yet another young man who met death while in the service of his country. He was laid to rest in Union Memory Gardens at Blairsville.

There were others in what we now call "The Greatest Generation" who were among Union County's war dead from World War II. Having been present for some of the funerals, my young mind was trying to sort out the meaning of freedom and the price paid for it. War is no respecter of persons. The young take up arms. Some die. The parents of those laid to rest grieve and wonder at the high cost of liberty.

Union County has a stately and impressive War Memorial dedicated in 1995. On the monument is a quotation from William Shakespeare (from his Henry V): "But we…shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, for he today that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother."

The monument lists names of those who lost their lives In the Indian Wars, the Mexican War, the War Between the States including both Federal and Confederate soldiers (a list not complete yet, but longer than the lists for all other wars combined); World War I., World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War. I am not sure, but plans for the War Memorial no doubt include listings from the current Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts.

Since much emphasis is now placed on "The Greatest Generation," those who fought in and lost their lives in World War II, 1941- 1946, I list below those whose names appear on that memorial marker. Union County lost twenty two sons in that conflict. We pause to salute their memory and to offer thanks for the sacrifice of their lives for freedom.

Akins, Herbert J.

Dyer, Tommy A.

Hooper, W. C.

Rogers, Thomas J.

Anderson, Beecher L.

Everett, Frank J.

Lance, James F.

Sullivan, John C.

Barnes, Clyde N.

Gregory, Arlie

Marr, Charles L.

Summerour, Robert L.

Burnette, Monroe, Jr.

Grizzle, Garnie L.

Owenby, H. J.

Wilson, Wroodrow L.

Davenport, James U.

Grizzle, Garnie L.

Plott, J. B.

Dover, John G.

Harkins, Waymond

Rogers, Dale C.

The honorable William Gladstone, Prime Minister of Great Britain from 1868-1894 wrote: "Show me the manner in which a nation or community cares for its dead, and I will measure with mathematical exactness the tender sympathies for its people, their respect for the laws of the land, and their loyalty to high ideals."

Resource: I am grateful to David Friedly of Blairsville for information from the Union County War Memorial and for the picture with this article.

c 2009 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published May 28, 2009 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

William Sullivan Family, Camp Meetings near Confidence Church

To get crops "laid by" (that is, finish cultivation—plowing and hoeing) and attend the grand old "Camp Meetings" were highlights of summer days in the late nineteenth and into the early twentieth centuries in north Georgia.

Good old William Sullivan, who was a citizen of Union County as early as the 1840 census, was a staid and true Methodist and participant in the early camp meetings in the vicinity of Confidence Methodist Church in Young Cane District.

An account of one such Camp Meeting in August of 1885 has been preserved in an article written by George A. Smith in 1901. In the paper Smith tells about the William Sullivan family and how a family reunion was incorporated into proceedings of the Camp Meeting in the summer of 1885.

Rebecca Mashburn Sullivan (1811-1895) was present at the Camp Meeting. Her beloved husband, William Sullivan (1805-1881), had died four years previously. No doubt, she remembered many times they had attended camp meeting together. Elisha Sullivan, a son of the late William and Rebecca Mashburn Sullivan, had a large tent set up at the meeting grounds. It was Elisha's desire to honor his dear mother and to incorporate the family reunion into that Sunday of the grand camp meeting. After morning services, a solemn and meaningful gathering took place in Elisha's tent.

Mr. George Smith described the occasion thus in his article published in The Wesleyan Advocate:

"Elisha who tented gave a special dinner for his mother and the children present—a sort of family reunion. The surrounding circumstances and the occasion itself were calculated to solemnize the scene, and this solemnity was deepened as they were being seated at the table. The 'Old Mother of Israel' (Rebecca Mashburn Sullivan) was seated first.

And then next to her the oldest child, and then the next oldest and so on until all seven of the nine present were seated."

All of her children but two daughters were present at the meeting, and many of her host of grandchildren. Nine of the Sullivan-Mashburn descendants had tents set up.

Four of Mrs. Sulllivan's sons were preachers, Elisha, in whose tent the reunion occurred, was a prominent minister in the Methodist Episcopal Church South. Three other sons, William, Asbury and James, were ordained practicing ministers in the Methodist Episcopal Church (North). All were participating in the camp meeting, and the presiding elder, the Rev. A. C. Thomas, "showed equal respect to those who belonged to the M. E. Church and those who belonged to the M. E. Church South. They all preached, prayed and exhorted in that commendable spirit which…characterizes all true and earnest worshipers."

The gathered Sullivan family then turned their thoughts to their father, William Sullivan, and honored his memory by quoting the comforting scripture, "He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." (John 11:25). They anticipated the time in the future when all believers will be reunited on high "around the table of the Lord." And, they were assured, "unlike at this camp meeting, in glory there will be no vacant seats."

The eldest son of William and Rebecca Mashburn Sullivan was James Sullivan, licensed to preach in the year 1856. He was ordained by the beloved Rev. D. D. Cox. It took Rev. Sullivan four weeks on horseback to get around to his small churches in his charge before the Civil War curtailed much of his travel. After the war, his assignment was in the Ellijay Circuit which extended as far as Jasper, Waleska and Spring Place. He also had pastored churches in Fannin County, Polk County Tennessee, Clay County, North Carolina, and Towns and Lumpkin Counties in Georgia. It is on record that he attended the Fightingtown Camp Meetings at Epworth, Georgia in Fannin County and preached there.

The paper by Adam Smith did not give details on the other ministers of beloved Mrs. Rebecca Mashburn, but present and celebrating with her on that August Sunday in 1885 were Rev. Elisha Leander Sullivan (1830-1897), who was hosting the dinner in his tent, Rev. James Sullivan, the eldest of the boys mentioned in the above paragraph, Rev. Asbury Sullivan (what a strong Methodist name he had been given by his parents) and Rev. William (named for his father).

Confidence Methodist Church was significant in the life of this family. William and Rebecca Mashburn had held the organizational meeting in their home "between 1835 and 1845" as the history of the church states. How long the congregants met in homes is not known, but the first church building was erected in 1845. The church grew rapidly and at one time had the largest Methodist congregation in Union County.

Accounts of reunions such as that of the Sullivan family held in 1885 give insight into the contributions of hardworking, salt-of-the earth people such as William and Rebecca Mashburn Sullivan.

The 1850 Union census, the first to list names of those in the family, records William and his wife Rebecca and children as follows: James, 21; Mary, 17; William, 15; Sarah 13; Daniel (Asbury), 11; Elizabeth, 8; Miriam, 6: Sofrona, 4; and John 11 months. Elisha Sullivan (age 19) and his wife Mary (age 18) were already set up in their own household at the time of the 1850 Union census. About 1888, the Rev. William Harvey Sullivan (1835-1902) and his wife, Mary Angeline Early Sullivan went as appointed missionaries to Indian Territory in Oklahoma. They were instrumental in founding the Talequah Methodist Church there.

[Reference: Sketches of Union County History, Volume 2 (1978), pages 72-77.]

c 2009 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published May 14, 2009 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

James "Jim" Berry, the Last of the True Mountaineers (Part 2)

Last week we saw Jim Berry as an employee of the Pfister- Vogel Land Company that had purchased large tracts of mountain land. Jim Berry was hired as a security guard for the land company and had moved into the old Brewster house on Jack's Gap Road.

About this same time a rather crude telephone line was installed in the Choestoe-Town Creek community. A switch at Mr. Hayes Hunter's house near New Liberty Church could connect the community line to the forest service line. Jim Berry's telephone that kept him in touch with the Bald Mountain line could also, through the switch, be connected to the line to the Jesse Washington Souther house, also just off the Jack's Gap Road. In that house lived Varina (called "Tib") Souther. A romance began between Tib and Jim.

She was a daughter of Jesse Washington Souther (04/23/1836 - 09/12/1926) and Nancy Sullivan Souther (03/22/1858 08/12/1936), her father's second wife. Varina was the thirteenth of fifteen children of "Wash" Souther and the sixth of eight born to her mother, Nancy Sullivan Souther. This "second" family of Jesse Washington Souther had these children: Thomas Souther (1877-1937) who married Mary Lou Kay; Albert Galloway Souther (1879-?) who married Mae Pinkston; Lydia Souther (1881-?) who married Charlie Jones; Lina Souther (1883-1915); Benjamin Souther (1885) died in infancy; Varina Souther (1887- 1963) who married James Berry (1896- 1982) on August 13, 1913; Harvey Allen Souther (1889-1984) who married Fannie Collins (1895-1972); and Hardy Souther (1892, died in infancy).

Thanks to the "on line" switch that connected the Souther home telephone to the one the forest service maintained for Jim Berry, this couple could "court" by telephone.

With her full siblings and her half-siblings scattered, Varina Souther Berry took the responsibility of caring for her aging parents. She and her husband Jim Berry lived with them in the old Wash Souther house. One son, Glenn, was born to Varina and Jim, and they adopted a second son, J. T. Berry. Her father died in 1926 and her mother in 1936.

Varina "Tib" Souther Berry was nine years older than her husband, Jim. She died October 15, 1963, leaving Jim a widower. He continued to live on in the old Wash Souther house, with few conveniences. He graduated from a fireplace to a wood heater to heat his house and had a Roman Eagle wood cook stove in his kitchen. After his wife Varina died, he lived alone for almost nineteen more years in the old house.

Jim Berry was steeped in the knowledge of local geography and folklore. He could recount the names of all the mountains surrounding Georgia's highest peak, Brasstown Bald (also known as Enotah). He knew the names of valleys between the peaks, the creeks and rivers. A good marksman with a gun, he got his quota of deer each hunting season well into his seventh decade of life. In his later years, people beat a path to his door to hear his stories and listen to his wit and wisdom.

He learned to play the fiddle from his father. He tells about watching his father play, and then taking up the fiddle himself, finding that he, too, could make music from its strings. He and his brother began to play for and call square dances throughout the mountain region. He once told a visitor that if he had his father's old fiddle, he wouldn't take a thousand dollars for it.

In a finely woven basket hanging from Jim Berry's ceiling, he once kept the medicines he swore by. In individual paper bags were the herbs he gathered from the mountains to give him robust health into his eighties. Dried ginseng root he chewed during the winters with the firm belief that it "cured most anything." Then he had a bag of golden seal. This treasure from the wild cured anything ginseng didn't touch, Mr. Berry believed.

On a spring day, June 26, 1982, Jim Berry, true mountaineer, lay down his head and died. At 85 years, 10 months of age, he had packed a lot of living into his life. He was about the last of the true mountaineers who had a close affinity with the land and its topography, the forests and its inhabitants, and people who came seeking his stories.

c 2008 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published September 25, 2008 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Reunion Reflections: Basking in the Afterglow

Sentinel photo/Janie Holbrook Authors displaying their books at the 2008 Dyer-Souther Reunion:

Seated: Dr. Eva Nell Mull Wike (The Matheson Cove in the Shadow of the Devil's Post Office); Ethelene Dyer Jones (The Singing in the Wood and Mother and Child Reunion); Dr. Tom Lumsden (Nacoochee Valley); Sylvia Dyer Turnage (Micajah ClarkDyer and His Amazing Flying Machine; Choestoe Story and other books);

Standing: Dr. Joe Turner (High Humor of the Hills); Charles H. Souther (From the Mules and Wagon to the Space Shuttle); Keith Jones (Mother and Child Reunion, with his mother, Ethelene and an 8-disk CD recording of the collected poems of Byron Herbert Reece). Not pictured (absent because of his mother's illness), William Clyde Collins, Jr. (The Last Deer Trapper.)

The annual Dyer-Souther Reunion is now history, an event of Saturday, July 19, 2008.

Held at Choestoe Baptist Church that some of our ancestors helped to found in 1832, the gathering of 163 people rejoiced at being together, at seeing new faces joining our number, at the sheer pleasure of family and roots and heritage.

The theme of this year's reunion was "Meet Our Authors." We invited those we knew in the "clan" who had written books. Seven were present to sign their books and to talk about the stories that had inspired them to write history, comedy and poetry.

Absent was president of the association, Bill Collins, whose book, The Last Deer Trapper, also was featured, by vice-president Keith Jones reading a story from "The Deer Trapper." Dr. Joe Turner, Dr. Eva Nell Mull Wike, Dr. Tom Lumsden, Sylvia Dyer Turnage, Charles Souther, Keith Jones and Ethelene Jones were present and folks enjoyed talking to them and getting signed copies of the author's books. Reports coming in by e-mail since the reunion term the event "fun and enjoyable," and "I loved hearing the authors."

All the long journey back to my present home in Milledgeville gave me four hours to reflect upon the reunion. Many thoughts went through my mind.

I thought of the "In Memoriam" period of our reunion program. Each year the list of our honored dead who have passed in the last year seems to increase. It is a solemn time of remembering. We recall going to school and church together, keeping in touch spasmodically as the years roll by, enjoying a once-a-year reunion when family ties are renewed. Maybe seeing them as "looking over the windows of heaven" to see us below is only a fanciful idea I have of re-identification with our beloved departed. But I imagined that "great cloud of witnesses" Paul the Apostle writes about. I see them applauding us. They are happy that we still remember the important virtues of family togetherness. The reunion was a little preview of heaven right here on earth.

Our honored dead who passed during the last year were James Perry Dyer (1923-2008), Anna Mae Dyer Burnett (1922- 2008), Harry Vaughn Dyer (1929- 2007), Carolyn Collins Kelly (1950-2008); James Vaughn Dyer (1916-2008), Connor Andrew Brock Carmichael (3 months, 2007), Dr. Howard Van Ness Morter (1916-2007), Opal L. Sullivan (1917-2007), Clara Belle Collins Duckworth (1919-2008), Raymond Sullivan (1919-2007), Robert Edward Moose (1970-2008), John Chester Dyer (1932-2008), Clinton Samuel Kelly (1927- 2007), Pearl Souther Smallwood (1919-2007) and Francis Homer Hunter, Jr. (1922-2007). These had a relationship to members of the Dyer-Souther family: Mildred Ensley Brown Turner Haigler (1930-2007) and Ruby Gibson Shook (1916-2008). We sang together "Amazing Grace" after standing in tribute as names were read.

I missed people who were not present. Mrs. Dora Hunter Allison Spiva has been our "oldest present" since the death of our historian emeritus, Watson Benjamin Dyer. Had she been present this year, at age 103, she would have received again the "eldest present” certificate. Mrs. Dora, Aunt Dora, Teacher Dora, know that we missed you. The reunion just wasn't the same without you. Several of her nieces and nephews, usually present, were not in attendance. This segment of our family line was sorely missed.

The oldest present was Mrs. Irene Coker Brown, widow of Emory Brown. At age 99, she amazed us all by her keenness and ability to walk on her own. She is a tower of fortitude and inspiration.

The youngest present was little Maddox Kidd, two-and-one half week old infant of Jessica Kidd. Proud grandmother Deborah Rich Leach and proud great grandmother Ann Rich were present to see this newest member of the clan receive a certificate. This family descends through Nancy Dyer Rich.

Roma Sue Turner Collins, having recently sustained a fall and serious bone breaks, was in the Northeast Georgia Medical Center at Gainesville in intense therapy section. Her husband Clyde, and her son, Bill (president of our Association) were in Gainesville visiting Sue. We missed you - and prayed for you. Edna Ruth England Rich was thoughtful enough to bring a huge "get well" card to be signed to take to Sue.

The "farthest distance" people were from Hawaii- our cousin Linda Nahser Beadle and her husband Wes. They came by way of Wetumpka, AL where Linda's sister, Sandra Nahser Gilley and her husband, Scott, joined in the entourage to bring the girls' mother, beautiful Kathleen Dyer Nahser to the reunion. I needed a camera in hand when mother and daughters stood together talking to me. They formed a trio of classic beauty, poise and love. Thank you, Linda, for traveling so far to the reunion!

My "children" from Liberia, West Africa were present, Magdalene and David Sunday-gar. But we could not count them as "traveling farthest." They have lived in Gainesville since 2000. David earned an AA from Gainesville College and a BS in Business Administration from North Georgia College. He is now in seminary working on his master's degree. They plan to return to Africa after David completes his education. Ethelene and Grover met David when they went to Africa for a mission trip in the summer of 1986, and they have kept in close contact with David since. "It's a small world, after all."

Many were present for the first time, and we heartily welcomed them to the gathering. We expect to hear from them and to see them back in forthcoming years.

The food was unbelievable. Thanks to those who volunteered to get the tables spread with the most delectable-looking food imaginable. Somehow, a food serving committee was not appointed this year. Volunteers, you know who you are, thank you! You came through with flying colors.

In business session, Reid Dyer was elected vice-president. The other officers remain the same: Bill Collins, President; Janice Lance, Secretary; Marie Knight and Lee Knight, Treasurers of New Liberty Cemetery Fund; Ethelene Jones, Historian and Newsletter Editor; and these named officers are also trustees, as is Keith Jones, who has served for several years as vice-president. Joe Dyer remains as an advisory member of the Trustees. A committee appointed to draw plans and implement the monument honoring Elisha Dyer, Jr. was given to Reid Dyer, Harold Dyer, Lee Knight, and Ethelene Jones, Historian. We heard that $11,000 is now in the cemetery fund drawing interest for upkeep and care of the cemetery, and the newsletter/ reunion fund has a balance of $2,600, with some bills current for postage and newsletter distribution. Edward Dyer reported that the Dyer Family Bible is now on display at the Union County Historical Society in a lovely display case. Edna Ruth England Rich told the group of the Historical Society's latest project, the "history cards."

The miles rolled away and I left the beloved mountains of Choestoe behind. But the reflections of a day at the reunion will remain as a sweet aura surrounding me for the next year. I will bask in the afterglow- until we meet again.

c 2008 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published July 24, 2008 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Couple leaves Choestoe for New Holland William Bruce Moore and Catherine Souther Moore

Through mountain mists we discern motives as to why people of the late nineteenth century left family and familiar scenes to go to a new location. Sometimes the very survival of families depended on it. Such seemed the case of Catherine Souther Moore (01.16.1869-02.03.1921) and her husband, William Bruce Moore (04.16.1868-08.26.1905).

This couple was married in Union County, Georgia on September 23, 1886. The husband, William Bruce Moore, was from Towns County, Georgia, a son of Andrew and Adeline Greer Moore. Catherine Souther, his bride, was the ninth of ten children born to John Combs Hayes Souther (10.22.1827- 01.04-1891) and Nancy Collins Souther (02.13.1829-07.22.1888).

Catherine had three brothers, William Albert Souther, John Padgett Souther, and Joseph Newton Souther. William Albert married Elizabeth "Hon" Dyer. John Padgett married Martha Clemetine Brown. Joseph Newton married Elderada Swain. Catherine had seven sisters. They and their spouses were Mary Elizabeth Souther who married Smith Loransey Brown; Celia Souther who died at about age 16; Sarah Evaline Souther who married Bluford Elisha Dyer; Nancy Roseanne Souther who married William Hulsey; Martha Souther who married, first, Jasper Todd Hunter, and, second, James Hunter (her husbands were brothers); and Catherine's youngest sister was Ruthie Caroline Souther who married, first, William A. Sullivan and, second, Logan Souther. This youngest sister moved west to Pueblo, Colorado.

Perhaps it was the fact that Catherine's sister, Nancy Roseanne Souther and her husband, William Hulsey, already lived in New Holland that helped Catherine and Bruce Moore decide to move there. Times were hard, and the couple seemed to realize that their chances for a regular income lay, not in tending the land at Choestoe to eke out a living, but to go to New Holland where Bruce could be employed for a regular $1.00 per day salary working in the cotton mill.

In the history of New Holland Cotton Mills, it was indicated that the Pacolet Manufacturing Company of South Carolina established a cotton mill in the village of New Holland, two miles northeast of Gainesville in 1901. There the company built a brick building to house the cotton mill, the weaving looms and other equipment necessary to producing quality cotton cloth. Also on the property secured by Pacolet were mill village houses which could be rented by families who worked in the mill. There was a bold spring, supposedly with health-giving water, that provided drinking water for the houses. Any of the ambitious families who wanted to tend a side-patch next to their rented house could plant a vegetable garden and hope for fresh vegetables in a favorable growing season. The manufacturer also provided a mill village store where families could buy necessary supplies. A school for the children, New Holland Academy, was also established. The whole village seemed a haven for families hard-pressed to make a living in the early twentieth century.

William Bruce Moore and Catherine Souther Moore had seven children as follows: James Andrew Moore (08.05.1888 - 12.29.1909); Nancy Adeline Moore (07.07.1890-?) married L. O. Coker; Mary Ellen Moore (10.25.1891-03.10.1935) married Will Voyles; Emma Mae Moore (04.10.1894 -?) married Arthur Franklin; Katie Evaline Morre (12.23.1896-05.08.1957) married Earl Franklin; Martha Wortie Moore (05.25.1900-05/26.1949) married Bruce Meta; and William Virgil Moore (09.30-1902-05.08.1962) married Thelma Cook.

As already mentioned, in that day the New Holland mill employed men for $1.00 per day. Women worked for fifty cents per day, and children, upon becoming age 12, got jobs for fifty cents per day. In the early years when the Moore family worked there, few health restrictions were intact, and workers breathed the cotton dust from the milling processes. It was an unhealthful environment. William Bruce Moore died August 26, 1905, leaving his wife Catherine to raise their family of seven children on her own. Imagine this mother, tired from a twelve-hour day at the mill, returning home, heavy with grief, and having to prepare a meager meal for her children, do their laundry, and keep the house in order. Another sadness came to Catherine Souther Moore as her eldest son, James Andrew, died December 9, 1909 at age 22. Was his death also caused by exposure to cotton dust in the mill?

On June 1, 1903, a tornado ripped through Gainesville and New Holland. Forty were killed in New Holland. Historical pictures show caskets lined up, side by side, in the New Holland mill, awaiting burial. Some, for which caskets had not yet been secured, were covered in materials that had been woven in the plant. Over three decades later, on April 6, 1936, another devastating tornado ripped through Gainesville, doing much damage to the city and to outlying districts like New Holland. In 1936, President Franklin Roosevelt visited the city, surveying the damage, and promising federal help for rebuilding.

My great aunt, Catherine Souther Moore, did not have to worry about cleaning up from the great tornado of 1936. She had quietly laid down her life on February 3, 1921, dying of what was then known as "consumption," a disease of the lungs brought on by years of breathing the cotton dust in the mills. She was buried in the New Holland Cemetery alongside her husband who had preceded her in death on August 26, 1905.

c 2007 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published Nov. 1, 2007 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved

Nix connections, Part 6- John Washington Nix

My last column on Nix connections was in the August 23, 2007 "Sentinel." In that article, we saw that six sons of James "Jimmy" Nix and Elizabeth "Betsy" Collins Nix served in the Civil War (Thompson Nix, John Nix, James Bly Nix, Jeffrie Nix, Jasper "Grancer" Nix, and Newton Nix).

Of these six, Thompson, John and Newton died in the War, and possibly Jeffrie, as well, for no further trace of him is found in census records. The father, James Nix, also enlisted and served in the Georgia Militia.

Near the end of the war, Jasper "Grancer" Nix married first to Harriet Carolina "Tina" Duckworth, on April 2, 1865. "Aunt Tina" was a well-known midwife in the mountain area of Choestoe, traveling on horseback in all kinds of weather to assist in birthing and to attend the sick. She often brought very sick or premature babies to her house to tend them. She made them a bed before the fireplace in rocking chairs made by Jasper, and carefully nursed them until they were able to go back to their own mother.

Grancer and "Tina" Nix had twelve children whose names were Mary "Molly", John Washington, Benjamin, James, William "Bill", Martha, Albert, Emma Lena, Alonzo "Lon", Frank, Joseph, and Jerry. Their first son and second child is the subject of this column.

John Washington Nix was born to Jasper "Grancer" and "Tina" Nix on July 19, 1867. He was married three times and had children by his first two wives.

It is an interesting story how John Washington Nix met his first wife, Mary Dover. He was in White County, and suffered an accidental gunshot wound to his shoulder in the late 1880's. He stumbled into the Dover house, suffering greatly from his wound and thinking he would die.

Mary Dover and her mother devised a way to clean the gunshot wound by hanging a water bucket over him as he lay on the bed. They punched a hole in the bucket, and the cool spring water dripped onto the wound, partially numbing the pain. He recovered, and the good Samaritan Mary Dover became the wife of John Washington Nix on August 30, 1887. He moved her to his farm on Choestoe. There were born their three children: William Arzie Nix on July 10, 1888; James Lester Nix on February 13, 1891; and Wilburn, who died young. The cause of Mary Dover Nix's death is not known; it may have been in childbirth when her third child, Wilburn, was born.

John Washington Nix married second to Catherine Clarenda Dyer on December 29, 1895. She was a daughter of Henderson Andrew Dyer and Adeline M. Sullivan Dyer. Her paternal grandparents were Micajah Clark Dyer (inventor of "An Apparatus for Navigating the Air", 1874) and Morena Owenby Dyer. It is reported that Henderson Andrew Dyer, Catherine's father, was the "richest man" in Choestoe, loaning money to many people who migrated west in the late 1800's and early 1900's, as well as helping young couples to get established on a farm or in business. When they married, he gave each of his children acreage for their own farm.

John Washington and Catherine Dyer Nix had eleven children: Harvey (1897-1916) never married; Dora Lou (1899- 1966) married Franklin Hedden Dyer; Magnola "Nola" (1900- 1987) married John Jarrett Turner; Mary Elizabeth (twin, 1902-1904); Martha L. (twin, 1902-1904); Joseph Spencer (1905-1982) married Doris E. Nix and Cathryn Clark Birgel; Roy Walter (1906-1971) married Idell Nelson; Maver Clarenda (1908-1990) married General Pat Harkins and Edward Collins; Howard Benson (1911-1979), married Ellen Erwin; Florida "Flo" Lee (1911-2007) married Carlos Turner; and Cleo Inez Colorado (1917-2003) married Rouse King.

When her youngest child, Cleo, was only ten years old, Catherine Clarinda Dyer Nix died September 7, 1927 and was interred in Old Liberty Cemetery. John Washington Nix married the third time to Maggie Rice on December 25, 1928.

John Washington Nix was known as an excellent blacksmith. He was also quite a musician. He owned a genuine Stradivarious violin, a valued heirloom owned by one of his great grandsons today. To the delight of neighbors, friends and family, the strains of "fiddle" tunes and lilting mountain arias often came from his Stradivarious which he played from his front porch. The old gunshot wound tended by Mary Dover and her mother had left his right arm and hand with limitations, but since it was his "bow" hand, he could still produce excellent music. After a long and eventful life, he died July 14, 1942, and was buried beside his second wife, Catherine, at Old Liberty Baptist Church.

John Washington Nix was noted as an excellent marksman with the gun. A grandson, Eric England, often went with him on hunting trips and learned from his grandfather how to be a sure shot. This knowledge Eric employed as a member of the United States Marine Corps as a scout-sniper and has earned the title of "the greatest marksman in world history."

Resources for this article are "The Nix Family Tree" by Wanda West Gregory, 1980, and Dr. Joseph Blair Turner who answered questions about his great grandfather by e-mail.

(Ethelene Dyer Jones is a native of Union County. She is recovering well from five bypasses heart surgery performed August 30.)

c 2007 by Ethelene Dyer Jones. Published October 4, 2007 in The Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. All rights reserved. Used by permission.

The mountains of yesteryear - Jefferson Beauregard Dyer and Rhoda Jane Souther Dyer

The Mountains of Yesteryear is the title of a delightful little book that came to my desk recently. A gift from Ronald Eugene Miles of Minnesota, it was written by his mother Ruby Lee Sergeant Miles.

Thanks to Jane Berry Thompson of the Union County Historical Society and Museum, Ron Miles, a kinsman of the far-flung Dyer-Souther Heritage Association whom I had not met before, got in touch with me. We have enjoyed making connections and sharing genealogical information.

The book his mother wrote was edited and published by Ron Miles in 1999 prior to his mother's death in 2000. In novella form, Ruby Lee Sergeant Miles wrote of the life and times of Jefferson Beauregard Dyer (1861-1944) and Rhoda Jane Souther Dyer (1863-1942), her grandparents.

The "Foreword," by the author's son and editor of the book, is a lofty and eloquently written tribute to the way of life and the people whose story is revealed in the book. Ronald Miles writes: "Ultimately, this family trail would wind from the foot of Yonah Mountain in the newly-formed Habersham County, across the spectacularly wild Tesnatee Gap route, to arrive at Choestoe in the early 1830's. In a rickety wagon, on horseback, and afoot over this ancient Indian trail, the Dyers brought with them all the accoutrements of mountain living to settle by a bountiful and crystalline spring on Cane Creek. As of this turning to the twenty-first century, the Dyer name remains on a mailbox there. The oaken latch from the crumbled springhouse is a precious relic in my Minnesota cabin home, a hand-touch across years and miles." (pp. i-ii)

Ruby Lee Sergeant Miles (6-22-1916 - 2-22-2000) was a daughter of Laura Canzady Dyer, the sixth of twelve children of Jefferson Beauregard and Rhoda Jane Souther Dyer. Her mother was better known by her nickname, Cannie Dyer. Ruby Lee's father was Lonnie Sargent. It is amazing that Ruby Lee, who had to quit school at age twelve because of her mother Cannie's failing health, could write a book with, as her son Ron's introduction states, "such importance, integrity and transcendent beauty." (p. iv) The author was, indeed, gifted with ability with words and with insight and imagination.

The book was illustrated by a friend of Ron Miles, artist Gregory R. Wimmer of Rochester, Minnesota. A replica of the cabin built for Rhoda Jane Souther by her fiancé, Jefferson Beauregard Dyer on land given to his ninth child by James Marion Dyer (1823- 1904), looks amazingly like the log cabins so carefully constructed after the Civil War.

Jefferson and Rhoda Jane were married December 14, 1879. The story is an imagined romantic account of how Jeff met Jane and how their courtship proceeded, with the genuine approval of Jeff's parents, and the cooperation of Rhoda Jane's father, Jesse Washington Souther (1836- 1926).

Rhoda Jane's mother was Sarah E. Collins (1840-1872), daughter of Frank and Rutha Nix Collins. Sarah died when Rhoda Jane was only nine years of age, and being the second child of seven and the oldest girl, it fell her lot to help take care of her siblings who ranged in age from eleven years to six months when her mother died. On March 12, 1876, Rhoda Jane's father, Wash Souther, married the second time to Nancy Sullivan. From this union came eight children, half-siblings of Rhoda Jane Souther. She helped her step-mother care for the two new step-siblings born before she and Jefferson Beauregard Dyer married December 14, 1879.

Ruby Lee Sergeant Miles imagines that Jefferson Beauregard and his bride-to-be took picnic lunches and visited the land he received from his father, James Marion Dyer. I am not sure that young people of that day would have been permitted that much unsupervised time away from elders. But in the granddaughter's account of their courtship, she allows for time for the young couple to dream of their future life together:

"On Sundays, Jeff would take Jane up for the day, to picnic and plan a life in their new home. These times were very thrilling for them. They could almost see the morning glory vines growing over the end of the long porch." (p. 23).

With much hard work, Jeff finished the cabin before Christmas, 1879. The couple had their marriage ceremony at the Souther home. And on Christmas Day that year, Jane and Jeff invited their parents to their cabin and served a typical mountain feast to celebrate their marriage and to show their home.

Ruby Lee Sergeant Miles follows the year-by-year life of the Jefferson Beauregard Dyer family--filled with hard work and births of their twelve children, four sons and eight daughters.

The family moved from Choestoe to Cleveland, Georgia in White County in 1892 and lived there thirteen years. From there they moved to New Holland in Hall County, Georgia where Jefferson got a job working in the cotton mill.

The older children were also employed in the mill. Jefferson built four houses there, three of which he rented. Although life was filled with hard work, the family had genuine love for each other and a sense of togetherness. Ruby Lee says of the family: "Jeff continued to try new and prosperous things to better the life for Jane. His family always had about as good as the best of families." (p. 31).

The last half of Mrs. Miles's book has vignettes about "Yesteryear in the Mountains," including myths, early homes, producing and preserving food, animals, people caring for one another, and plants and herbs. She included recipes for some of the dishes prepared at the fireplace in an iron pot or in an iron Dutch oven covered with coals.

Thanks to Ronald Eugene Miles, retired from his career with Minnesota State Parks, for editing and publishing his mother's book. It is an excellent addition to our written mountain history. The Book Nook in Blairsville has some copies or one may be ordered from Grassroots Concepts, 9980 Ponderosa Lane Southwest, Lake Shore, MN 56468-2005 for $15 which includes cost and shipping and handling.

On the back cover is an "Afterword" written by poet and essayist John G. Neihardt. He states: "This story will not turn back the hands (digits?) of time, but it does advocate lessons the earth still has to teach us. And when mists lift off the mountains, is there a more fulfilling, refreshment than a long draught of pure, cool spring water bubbling from the Giving Earth?"

For those of you who enjoy reading about mountain ways and families of yesteryear, this insightful book will be an excellent addition to your library.

c2006 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published Nov. 30, 2006 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

April: National Poetry Month

As a lover of poetry and a poet of sorts, I am very interested in April, set aside as National Poetry Month, thirty whole days to celebrate poetry. With your indulgence, I want to depart from my usual history column and write about poetry.

April as National Poetry Month was inaugurated in 1996 by the American Academy of Poets, a non-profit organization promoting the vitality and value of poetry in American culture. National Poetry Month has grown since 1996 to be the single largest literary celebration in the world.

We have but to examine America’s early history to find that our forebears practiced the art of poetry. America’s founders brought an amalgam of cultures composing our original population. From the countries in the old world they brought their love for poetry and their ability, in many instances, to write poetry, to catch a deep and abiding truth in concise lines. This appreciation for poetry has grown through America’s years as a nation and will continue through the present and future generations.

The Academy of American Poets set up as the overriding aim of a whole month of celebrating poetry as a time to make poetry more visible and accessible to citizens. This year’s National Poetry Month has seven specific goals:

1. To highlight the extraordinary legacy and ongoing achievement of American poets.
2. To introduce more Americans to the pleasure of poetry.
3. To bring poets and poetry to the attention of the public in immediate and innovative ways.
4. To make poetry a more important part of the school curriculum.
5. To increase the attention paid to poetry by national and local media.
6. To encourage increased publication, distribution and sales of poetry books.
7. To increase public and private philanthropic support for poetry and poets.

Even though the month of April 2006 is in its last two weeks, it is still not too late to make poetry more visible and accessible to citizens. Just now, with the writing of this column, and your reading it, we are fulfilling Goal 5 above. If you are a teacher reading this column, I hope you will think of ways you can increase your students’ appreciation of poetry in the days remaining of April, 2006. Your local book store has poetry books for sale. Buy one and read it with joy and pleasure. If you have the capability of going online, you may access the Academy of American Poets and see the thirty-day suggestions of innovative things to do during each day of April to make poetry come alive for yourself and others.

And, being a great fan of Union County’s Byron Herbert Reece (1917-1958), poet extraordinary, I can plead for you to fulfill Goal 7 listed above by supporting the Byron Herbert Reece Society’s aim of making the Reece Farm into a cultural center to honor the poet and his poetry, and to aid future poets who might be inspired as they visit the place where Reece thought so deeply and wrote so admirably.

I cannot close this article without sharing some personal thoughts of how I have celebrated April, National Poetry Month, to this date. I have sent my original poems to several people in letters and sympathy cards already during this month, and I will continue to do so until the end of April, and, indeed, all year long. To dear friends and relatives who have lost loved ones during the month of April, I sent them my sonnet entitled “Death at Times Is Kind.”

For my first great grandchild, born April 12, 2006, I printed and framed my poem entitled “This Clay to Mold – A Mother to Her Child,” which I hope my dear granddaughter Paula will take to heart and use as a sort of idealistic guide for motherhood as she rears the precious baby, Gavin Ernesto Berenguer-Aguirre, entrusted to her and Ernesto for rearing.

A dear younger friend of mine, Beverly Michelle Denmark, has published during this month of April her first book of poems entitled “Sipping Coffee.” I received my copy of the book from her, signed by the author, with the notation that through Georgia Poetry Society I had inspired her to write. I will write a book review of Beverly’s book, and hope thereby to help her with publicity for her book and to increase her book sales.

I thought how I would like to go into the schools and teach poetry workshops as I once did, or teach my own classes (as I did prior to my retirement) the beauty of poetry and how students can write their own. Just now, my circumstances of care-giving for my husband do not permit me to engage in this much-loved activity. But I can appreciate all the teachers from my past who made me a lover of poetry from elementary school through college and graduate school. At Choestoe School, a two-teacher school when I attended there, my teachers loved poetry and taught me to appreciate it. It was then I memorized “The Village Blacksmith” and “Song of the Chattahoochee,” and other poems for “recitation” day on Fridays. Thank you, Mrs. Mert Collins, Ms. Opal Sullivan, Mrs. Bonnie Snow, Mrs. Florence Hunter and others for instilling in me the love of poetry when I was young. I have never departed from that appreciation of poetry, and my love for poetry has grown with the years.

I will end this appeal for you to celebrate and enjoy poetry during April, National Poetry Month, by ending with Byron Herbert Reece’s quatrain that says so much about the love of poetry and how it is written. His aim certainly has come true:

“From chips and chards in idle times,
I made these stories, shaped these rhymes;
May they engage some friendly tongue
When I am past the reach of song.”

c2006 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published Apr. 20, 2006 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

A tribute to Otis Cecil Dyer, Sr.

In the mists of grief as I remember one of my favorite cousins, I will recall that I heard of his death on October 31, 2005, Halloween. I will remember the circumstances of hearing the news.

My daughter and I had taken my husband, her father, the Rev. Grover D. Jones to Macon, Ga., for a 3:30 p.m. appointment with a dermatologist who specializes in MOHS surgery for skin cancer. The waiting room was full to overflowing because Dr. Kent was ill and his patients had been rescheduled to another doctor in the Dermatologic Diseases Group. My cell phone rang. When I answered, my sister Louise said, “Our Cousin Otis died a little while ago.”

We both knew he had been very sick and his death was expected. But Otis was only a month away from being a centenarian. He, his close family and cousins had hoped he would live to reach his 100th on December, 1, 2005. He died one month and one day shy of ten decades of a very good life. Somehow we though wise, good, gentlemanly Otis would be with us on and on with his sage but quiet advice, his encouragement, his genuine concern for people.

Otis Cecil Dyer was the first and only child born to Herschel Arthur Dyer (1880-1974) and his first wife, Sarah Rosetta Sullivan Dyer (1882-1920). Otis’s parents married January 5, 1904 and the next year, December 5, 1905, Otis came into their home. Early on, his parents told him of his ancestors who had been early settlers in the Choestoe Valley where the family lived. On his paternal Dyer side he went back to Elisha Jr. and Elizabeth Clark Dyer, James Marion and Eliza Louisa Ingram Dyer, and Bluford Elisha and Sarah Evaline Souther Dyer and on his paternal Souther side he descended from John and Mary “Polly” Combs Souther, John Combs Hayes and Nancy Collins Souther.

Otis’s father, Herschel, was a teacher, educated in county schools near his Choestoe home, and Young Harris College.

Otis’s mother, Sarah Rosetta, Sullivan, had descended from John and Elizabeth Hunter, builder of the Hunter-England old cabin. One of their sons, William, had married Margaret Elizabeth “Peggy” England and they were parents of Margaret Eliza Hunter (1852-1919) who married William L. Sullivan (1856-1897).

When Otis started to elementary school about age 5, he went to whichever school his father was teaching. Some of them were the Henson School (often known as the Wild Boar Institute), Old and New Liberty Schools, Track Rock School, and Choestoe School. When Otis was ready for high school, he attended the Blairsville Collegiate Institute and then Young Harris College. Later he would graduate from Piedmont College, Demorest, Ga., (BA.), the University of Georgia (MA). He did post-graduate work at the University of New York.

When Otis was 15, his mother died on February 27, 1920. She was buried at the Old Choestoe Cemetery near her parents. His father married, second, to Lillie Collins (1888-1975), a sister to his sister-in-law, Azie Collins Dyer, married to his brother Jewel Marion Dyer, and a sister to his brother-in-law, William Harve Collins, married to Herschel’s sister, Northa Maybell Dyer Collins. His stepmother was a loving mother to Otis and always treated him as she did her own children (and Otis’s half-siblings), Valera, India and H. A. Jr.

As a young man, Otis met his bride-to-be at the Blairsville Collegiate Institute. She was Margie Lee Cagle, daughter of Strawbridge and Edith Smith Cagle of Union County. Otis and Margie married November 5, 1927. With the Great Depression a near reality at the time of their marriage, they survived and built a strong home based on Christian principles and commitment.

Otis, the son of a teacher and seeing the example of a good teacher from his father, entered the teaching profession. At first he was a teacher in the Habersham County, Georgia School system and later a principal there.

In 1942, just as America was entering World War II, Otis became an employee of the Georgia Department of Education in the Division of Vocational Rehabilitation. He was a counselor and later supervisor of Training and Placement Services. Otis retired from his position with Vocational Rehabilitation in 1969. Otis and Margie lived in Atlanta. She preceded him in death and was interred in the West View Cemetery, Atlanta.

Otis Dyer and Margie Cagle Dyer had three children, Harry Vaughn, Sarah Edith and Cecil Otis Jr. Sarah and Otis Jr. were twins, but the little boy lived only about 11 months. Otis delighted in his grandchildren, Margie Rose Dyer and Sarah Estelle Adams. He lived to enjoy five great grandchildren.

As his first cousin more the age of his son and daughter than Otis himself, I appreciate the encouragement Otis gave me at tough times in my life. When my mother died, I was one year younger than he had been when his own mother died. He knew how to give love and empathy, because his experience had been similar to mine. When I was struggling to get a college education without much money to support me, Otis encouraged me to keep my goals and press forward. When I became Dyer-Souther Family Historian, he told me many stories of our common ancestry, helping me to see and appreciate what a rich legacy we shared. If I could summarize Otis’s almost 100 years of life, I would use the adjective STALWART. He was a Christian gentleman always, serving as a deacon and in many other capacities in the church. He was a teacher and counselor, a lover of family, and a friend whose loyalty did not waver. Chaucer wrote in his Canterbury Tales: “And gladly would he learn, and gladly teach.” And Henry Adams, American educator, wrote: “A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops.” These quotations characterize Otis Cecil Dyer Sr., stalwart to the end.

c2005 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published Nov. 3, 2005 in The Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Nancy Collins Souther, Daughter of Thompson Collins, Sr.

Writing about early settler Thompson Collins and his family is like taking up an enthralling story that you can’t put down until you’ve read it all. And even then, you want to fill in gaps, go farther with the story.

In recent articles we’ve explored the first Thompson Collins, holder of vast acreages, progenitor of many who were born and grew up in Choestoe District and went out from there to make their mark in the world. A son, Thompson Collins, Jr. was a long-time Justice of the Peace. A grandson, Thompson Smith Collins, was known as “the poor man’s friend.” In the first year of my writing “Through Mountain Mists,” I traced the remarkable career of Dr. Mauney Douglas Collins, for twenty-five years Georgia’s state school superintendent and a great grandson of the first Thompson Collins. Chief Justice of Georgia Supreme Court, William Henry Duckworth and his brother, J. Lon Duckworth, corporation lawyer, were descendants of Thompson Collins. The branches go on and on…

This article pays tribute to Nancy Collins (February 13, 1829 – July 22, 1888), eighth of the ten children born to Thompson and Celia Self Collins. Nancy and her sister just older than she, Celia (1827-?) who married James West, were born after their parents migrated from North Carolina to Habersham County, Georgia. Her sister Olive (1831-1853) who married Robert McCoy and died in childbirth, and her brother Ivan Kimsey Collins (1835-1898), who was deaf due to a childhood fever and married Martha Hunter, were also born in Georgia.

Nancy Collins married John Combs Hayes Souther (Oct. 22, 1827 – Jan. 4, 1891), born in North Carolina, the second of twelve children of John Souther (1803-1889) and Mary “Polly” Combs Souther (1807-1894). The Souther family had settled in 1836 on land in the locality of present-day New Liberty Baptist Church. In fact, settler John Souther gave the land for that church and cemetery. The marriage of John Combs Hayes Souther and Nancy Collins on February 6, 1852 brought together two prominent early-settler families.

John, better known as “Jack” Souther, took his bride Nancy to live in the log house he and his father had built for Jack about 1850 on land lot # 150. The house still stands today within sight of New Liberty Baptist Church. The old adage, “It takes a lot of living in a house to make it home” could well qualify that house, for three generations of the Jack and Nancy Souther family lived there over a period of more than a century and a half.

Nancy Collins married one week before her twenty-second birthday in 1852. She no doubt felt pride in the fact that her husband Jack had taught the first school in the Choestoe District. Later he would become ordinary of Union County. He was always an advocate of education and good government. On their farm in Choestoe he practiced good farming techniques for that era and was able to support the family. He made many trips over the Logan Turnpike to take produce to market in Gainesville. Having Thompson Collins as a father-in-law and his own father, John Souther, as advisors, John Combs Hayes Souther was in a good position to make his own contributions to his life and times.

When the Union County courthouse was built on the square in 1899, Jack Souther was an advocate for building it. Timber from his land went into a portion of its construction.

Since Nancy’s father, Thompson Collins, had slaves at the time of her marriage, I wonder if one of them was loaned to Nancy and Jack Souther as their children were born to help Nancy with their care and with her housework. There is no record to verify this assumption, but it could reasonably have happened.

The Civil War came when the couple was ten years into their marriage. Jack Souther was a conscientious objector. In order to evade the Confederate draft, he hid out in caves in nearby Bald Mountain. At night he came out of hiding and tilled the crops. It was not an easy time.

The children born to John Combs Hayes and Nancy Collins Souther were:

(1) Mary Elizabeth Souther (1853-1929) married Smith Loransey Brown (1850-1932)
(2) Celia Souther (1854) died when about sixteen years of age.
(3) William Albert Souther (1856-1945) married Elizabeth “Hon” Dyer (1859-1902)
(4) Sarah Evaline Souther (1857-1959) married Bluford Elisha “Bud” Dyer (1855-1926)
(5) John Padgett Souther (1858-1959) married Martha Clementine Brown (1861-1933)
(6) Joseph Newton Souther (1861-1922) married Elderada Swain (1867-1948)
(7) Ruthie Caroline Souther (1863-1928) married (1) William Sullivan and (2) James Logan Souther (1847-1914)
(8) Nancy Roseanna Souther (1865-1938) married William Hulsey (1862-1946)
(9) Martha Souther (1867-1937) married (1) Jasper Todd Hunter (1863-1897) and (2) James Hunter (1847-1912) [Jasper and James were brothers.]
(10) Catherine Souther (1869-1921) married William Bruce Moore (1868- 1905)

Of the nine children who lived to adulthood and married, the descendants of John Combs Hayes and Nancy Collins Souther became legion. Each family has its own story. In fact, geneology lines sometimes are surprising. Their child number four, Sarah Evaline Souther who married Bluford Elisha Dyer is my grandmother. Sarah and Bluford’s tenth child, Jewel Marion Dyer (1890-1974) married Azie Collins (1895-1945), daughter of Francis Jasper Collins. Nancy Collins Souther was my mother’s great aunt. She is my own great grandmother, as well as my great, great aunt.

When I tell my children and grandchildren about these family ties at Christmas and other family gatherings, they sometimes shake their heads in disbelief. Somewhat like the royal families of England and other countries, our forebears, too, made alliances by marriage that have affected subsequent generations.

Have a wonderful Christmas with your family and remember the true meaning of the season.

c2004 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published December 16, 2004 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

To Consolidate Schools or Not? That was the Big Question in 1916 and Later ( A History of Education in Union County, Part 3)

I began my teaching career in the same school I entered as a first grader when the new two-teacher Choestoe school building opened. Back in 1936, we were so proud of our new white weather-boarded school building, a great improvement over the previous old building that stood on the same spot near Choestoe Baptist Church.

When the school had first opened there in the 1830’s, classes were held in the log church building. Then the two-room building specifically for school was built, with an upstairs where the Lodge met in “secret” quarters. I do not have statistics for many of the years of Choestoe School, but in 1933, three years before I began as a first grader there, 69 students had been enrolled and C. J. Dyer and B. H. Rich were the teachers.

I did not attend school in the old building but was a proud first grader in 1936 when the new building opened with its shiny white paint outside, its tall windows, the “lower” grades room for students in 1st through 3rd grades, and the “upper” grades room for students in grades 4th through 7th grades.

Each classroom had its own “cloak” and supply room where we hung our coats on pegs and put our lunch pails on shelves. Extra textbooks and a few school supplies were also stored in the cloak rooms. The classrooms were heated by a wood heater and patrons (including my father, J. Marion Dyer) supplied the wood for the stoves. We brought our water supply in a bucket from a spring on church property until, about my third year there, a well was dug in the schoolyard and a hand pump (which always had to be primed) was installed. We each took our own cups with our lunch pails in order to have one for water when we were thirsty.

Mrs. Mert Shuler Collins was my first grade teacher and encouraged me to read, read, read. I already knew how to read when I entered school, having learned at my mother’s and my older siblings’ knees, probably pestering them so much that they felt to teach me to read for myself would be better than to spend so much of their valuable time reading to me. My aim in first grade was to read every book in the cabinet in the corner of the classroom where extra books were housed just for the students’ pleasure. I didn’t reach my goal that year, but remember the chart with many stars that represented each book completed.

Several teachers held the wonderful Choestoe School together in my first through seventh grade journey. My beloved teachers were Mrs. Mert Collins, my sister, Louise Dyer, Mrs. Opal Sullivan, Mrs. Bonnie Snow and her husband (as a substitute), Mr. Lon Snow, and Mrs. Florence Hunter. These opened for me the remarkable world of learning.

When I entered Union County High School in 1943 as an 8th grader and freshman, I had not suffered one whit from receiving my elementary education in a two-teacher country school.

By the school year 1949-50 when I began as an eager first-year teacher at Choestoe School, enrollment was down so that it was a one-teacher school. I had pupils in every grade first through seventh, a total of twenty-five students in all, with the largest enrollment being 5th grade with five pupils. The school did not have kindergarten, but those just starting out were in “Primer,” where they learned in the first few months the rudiments of reading so that they could progress through Primer and First Grade in their first year at Choestoe. In retrospect, I wonder how I, a brand new teacher, managed seven grades and taught the students even the minimum of what they needed to learn at their specific grade levels. Looking back on my thirty-plus years as an educator, I still remember the wonder and challenge of that first year in what had been reduced to a one-teacher school. I had begun in that building as a first grader; my fist year of teaching was in the Choestoe School; and it was ripe for closure and inevitable consolidation which came at the end of that year.

Returning to the 1916 report, Mr. M. L. Duggan, Rural School Agent for Georgia, gave recommendations following his three-month survey of education in the county. He listed schools and gave reasons for and against consolidation of the 43 schools he found operating at that time.

The Blairsville Collegiate Institute was going well in 1916 with 150 pupils enrolled in eleven grades. H. E. Nelson was principal, and taught mathematics and English. His wife, Mrs. H. E. Nelson, taught history, science and Latin. Miss Addie Kate Reid taught the intermediate grades. Miss June Candler taught primary grades. Music teacher was Mrs. Maud Haralson and Miss Etta Colclough taught Home Economics and also served as a sort of county home economist, visiting in homes and assisting women in proper methods of canning and preserving foods from their gardens and farms. The private institute had eight full months of uninterrupted instructional time and was doing well, indeed. From 1916 through its closure at the end of the 1929-1930 school year, it was to have fourteen more successful years of operation before it became the Blairsville—and subsequently---the Union County High School.

In the district around Suches in 1916, Mr. Duggan found three schools: Zion had Mr. G. W. Garrard as teacher, classes were in a church building, he had no equipment and only seven students. Mt. Lebanon School had Mrs. Ray Pruitt as teacher, met in a ceiled, unpainted building, had oiled floors, homemade desks, blackboards, a sandbox, and maps, charts and pictures. The pupils in five grades numbered 55. The Mt. Airy School met in the church building with 27 pupils and C. T. Lunsford as teacher. Mr. Duggan highly recommended that these three schools be consolidated, that an increase in taxes make Mt. Lebanon a “standard school,” and that students all attend Mt. Lebanon, which would be only about three and one-half miles for those farthest away.

A look at the 1933 county school statistics reveals that his recommendation was not accomplished to that date. Mrs. F. F. Pruitt was listed as teacher that year at Mt. Lebanon with 33 students and Mr. J. H. Lunsford, also there, with 30 pupils. Mt. Airy was still operating in 1933 with 20 pupils, and Zion with 23 pupils had Ms. Eula Berry as teacher. The schools at Suches were finally consolidated when Woody Gap School opened in the fall of 1940 near the homesite of Georgia’s Civil War governor, Joseph Emerson Brown. Today Woody Gap is considered an “isolated” school because of the mountains separating the district from Blairsville and the distance in travel prohibitive for pupils who would be transported.

[Next week: Continuing the look at 1916 and later school developments.]

c2004 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published August 19, 2004 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Continuing the History of Education in Union County (Part 2)

With school beginning for the 2004-2005 school term, it seems appropriate to review some of the history of education in Union County over the 172-year period since the county was formed in 1832. Last week’s column brought us roughly to 1916 when Mr. M. L. Duggan, Rural School Agent for Georgia, visited the county and submitted a lengthy report with recommendations for improvements for the school system of the county.

Mr. Duggan began his report by giving information about the county: “The taxable value of the county, as returned for 1916, totals $1,003,879.00, of which about one-third is owned by non-residents. Most of this non-resident property consists in large tracts of original forests held by foreign corporations. The United States Government also has acquired a considerable area for the Appalachian Forestry Reservation.”

Population in the county in 1916 was reported as 6,918. Of that number, 2,114 were white school children and 19 were Negro school children. Mr. Duggan commented that “the mountain slopes are covered in hardwood timber, and abound in mineral wealth.”

He noted the “water power that goes wasting everywhere.” Cattle and hogs abounded and the valley soil was fertile. Apple trees grew to large size and produced immense crops of finest fruit with a minimum of care. He lamented that few of the rich resources of the county had been tapped, and that no railroad “touched the county” for easy transport of products to market. “The one greatest need of the county is first-class public highways,” he wrote. “Good roads will facilitate consolidation of the schools and in many ways bring prosperity that will enable the people to support their public schools more liberally. Good roads and good schools always go together, and neither will much precede the other,” he concluded.

He made no mention of the fact that people in the southern portion of the county still hauled their farm produce in covered wagons drawn by mule teams over the Logan Turnpike through Cleveland, Georgia to markets in Gainesville for sale and barter for needed goods not grown on their mountain farms. Those trips took two days going southward, one day for trading, and two days for the return trip.

Those in the northwestern part of the county likewise hauled their goods by mule team but went to the train stations at Culberson or Murphy, NC, or perhaps to Blue Ridge or Mineral Bluff, GA. It was not until 1925 that Neal Gap opened and the first paved road over the mountain to Blairsville was available for the few motorized vehicles available.

The 1916 report on education revealed 43 public common schools (for white students) in the county, and one high school at the county seat in Blairsville, partly supported by the State Baptist Mission Board. This was the Blairsville Collegiate Institute [the subject of previous columns], founded in 1904, and jointly supported by Notla River Baptist Association, the Georgia Baptist Convention, and the Home Mission Board. This boarding school operated from 1904 through 1930, when properties were deeded to the Union County Board of Education and the public high school opened in the fall of 1930. Tuition and board were charged, but students also had opportunities for work-study programs.

Mr. Duggan stated that the “common schools” were located too close together, some just a mile and a half apart and seldom more than three miles, and that there seemed to be no delineation of school districts. The County School Superintendent, T. E. Patterson, was paid “the minimum wage allowed by law,” and could not be expected to do much supervision, receiving such small remuneration for his services. Besides the superintendent, elected members of the Board of Education in 1916 were A. T. Sullivan, chairman; Bart Swanson, Norman Allison, James Seabolt and C. E. Rich.

Mr. Duggan’s report indicated that “teacher elections” were held by patrons in the various school districts. These appointments of teachers, evidently not necessarily approved by the County Board of Education, “degenerated into political contests, and have worked serious injury to the schools.” He recommended standard opening and closings of schools. Much of his survey was done in August of 1916, the month he was told that “most of the schools would be open.” However, he found that many communities were also having “protracted meetings” at the churches—with buildings used also as school houses---and that school could not go on simultaneously with revival meetings. In his third recommendation about schools, Mr. Duggan stated that a uniform opening of schools should occur, and that “the school term should not conflict with the protracted meeting season.”

Item 5 in Mr. Duggan’s recommendations urged “the citizens of the county to vote a local school tax of two or three mills for the further improvement of their schools. “Their children are worth it.” He further noted, “Much of this (tax) burden would fall upon non-resident property owners who will willingly bear it. The entire county would benefit greatly.”

In assessing Mr. Duggan’s report and recommendations, I thought how the millage has increased through the years, but how “non-residents” still bear a portion of the “burden” of taxes and “willingly bear it” for the privilege of owning mountain property within the confines of Union County. Certainly the county schools and students have benefited from this upward progress for education.

Consolidation was a strong word used by Mr. Duggan. He thanked the School Board, the Superintendent, and the Grand Jury for complete cooperation in his August, September and October, 1916 survey of the schools in the county. We can almost imagine his progress through each district of the county as he visited the 43 scattered schools, and as he was present at the court house in each of the three monthly meetings of the Board of Education to hear their plans and to present his findings. Knowing the scarcity of roads and of vehicles in which to travel in 1916, Mr. Duggan probably went from place to place by horseback—or perhaps by horse and buggy. He found lodging in the homes of patrons within each school community. He wrote, “Every encouragement and facility was cordially offered me in making a very thorough educational survey, and there is strong and growing sentiment all over the county for better schools. The Grand Jury strongly endorses any serious effort to that end, and the county Board of Education is awake to the situation. The county is ripe for educational progress, and we confidently predict immediate and rapid improvement in the system and in the schools.”

[Next week: A look at recommendations and problems of consolidation.]

c2004 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published August 12, 2004 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

James Nix Settles in Norwood, Colorado

Young James Nix from Choestoe found work at various trades in the Western states. He rented acreage and farmed. He worked at sawmills in the great forests of Washington state. But he always felt the call back to Colorado. His Uncle Bill Souther and he got jobs with a land surveying group. At first they worked for $1.50 per day, but then the payment advanced to $50.00 per month and $5.00 each per month for two mules. The men and their mules were given “room and board,” albeit the “room” was in whatever encampment the W. H. Wheeler Surveying Company had on their work schedule.

James Nix wrote, “We started out from Placerville to Hastings Mesa, east of Dollar Mountain on Smeck’s Toll Road when we learned of President Garfield’s assassination.” James A. Garfield was shot July 2, 1881 and lived until September 19, 1881. On the La Plata River assignment, the Uncompaghre Ute Indians went through on their move to the Uinta Reservation. The Indian Chief, Ouray, died while the Indians were at the La Plata.

By August 1881 they were surveying the Gurley Reservoir area and Wright’s Spring. The areas they surveyed had only Indian trails and pinyon, cedar and sage flats. It was the “wild west” of broad unexplored, unsettled spaces.

It was about November, 1881 when James and his Uncle Bill Souther went to Disappointment Valley to locate claims they were making. The Disappointment Valley of Colorado, near Norwood, was to play an important role in the Nix and Souther settlements and for others who had migrated there from Choestoe in Union County, Georgia.

Then the uncle and his nephew tried their luck at trapping. They caught bear and other animals and sold the pelts. Winters were severe. Survival skills were in high gear all the time. At one time someone burned Bill Souther’s cabin and all their equipment and supplies for winter were lost.

James Nix’s sisters and mother married, thus relieving James somewhat of their care. His sister Martha Jane Nix married November 2, 1882 to Thomas H. Sullivan. He was another of the Choestoe men who migrated to Colorado. James’s sister Nancy Ann Nix married Alfred Lafayette Sullivan in 1883. James’s widowed mother married William John Bankston at Norwood, Colorado on March 11, 1884. She had been a widow for over nineteen years, having buried her first husband, James’s father, William Nix, who died at Choestoe on March 17, 1864.

James married Ione May Copp, niece of Mr. Henry Copp, on January 2, 1890. James and Ione met when she was visiting her uncle who founded the Norwood, Colorado post office and store. Ione May was from Missouri. They first met in April, 1888. It was love at first sight. James tells how he found many reasons to go to the store and post office after Miss Copp went to Colorado to live with her uncle and aunt. James writes about how he and Miss Copp and nine other young men and ladies took a ride up Baldy to Lone Cone for an outing and picnic. While there, a thunderstorm formed along Naturita Creek far below them. James Nix said it was the second time in his life he had been above a storm to view it. The previous time was before he left Union County in 1873. He and some young men had climbed to the top of Bald Mountain, and far below them, in Choestoe Valley, lightning flashed, thunder rolled and rain pelted, but on the mountain the sun was still shining.

James Nix built a two-room cabin for his bride at Norwood. It had a dirt roof and sod floor. Through the sagebrush, he dug down twenty feet into the soil to find water for a well. He worked for the Naturita Canal and Reservoir Company. James wrote that as their means increased, they built onto the original two-room cabin, made it into a large two story house, and added two rooms on the west. There nine children were born to them. Five lived to adulthood, but four died in infancy.

When James Nix died at the age of 88 on March 2, 1947, the Norwood Star wrote of him:

“Mr. Nix was one of the few remaining pioneers of Wright’s Mesa. He helped to settle a wonderful section of the west. His life, spent mostly in Colorado in the early days of struggle for survival of the fittest, stands as a monument to the ‘Carving of the West."

Those who read James Nix’s memoirs are inspired by the courage of a Georgia mountain woman who had a vision of a better life for her children, and especially of a son in his early teens when they left Union County who shouldered responsibilities for himself, his mother and his two sisters in a strange and daunting land.

c2004 by Ethelene Dyer Jones; published July 22, 2004 in The Union Sentinel, Blairsville, GA. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.