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Shane

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John Shell: The Legendary Kentuckian

John Shell, often referred to as “Uncle John,” is a legendary figure in Kentucky history. He is said to have been born on September 2, 1788, in Warren County, Tennessee or Clay County, Kentucky (depending on which source you believe), he lived to be one of the oldest people in the United States, claiming to have lived to the ripe old age of 134 years. His long life and the stories surrounding it have made him a captivating figure in the folklore of Appalachia. Neither his birthdate nor his birthplace have ever been conclusively proven.

John Shell

Early Life

John Shell’s early years were spent in the rugged, mountainous terrain of Appalachia, a region known for its isolation and self-reliant communities. The exact details of his early life are somewhat murky, as records from that time are sparse, and much of what we know comes from oral histories and Shell’s own accounts. He once claimed in an interview that his earliest recollection was “the news coming over the mountains that the father of our country had died.”- which would have been in reference to George Washington, who passed away in 1799.

As a young man, Shell was known for his robust health, hard work, and skills as a woodsman and farmer. He married Elizabeth Chappell in 1844, and together they raised a large family. The Shell family was typical of the time, relying on farming, hunting, and gathering to sustain themselves.

A Centenarian Claims Super-Centenarian Status

John Shell’s fame began to spread in the late 19th and early 20th centuries when he was reportedly over 100 years old and still leading an active life. Shell’s longevity was documented in various newspapers and magazines, and his age became a topic of fascination. By the early 1900s, he was widely recognized as one of the oldest living people in the United States, with claims that he had surpassed the age of 130.

One of the most significant moments in John Shell’s life came in 1919 when he was featured in “The Saturday Evening Post.” The article, written by Lucille J. Crittenden, brought national attention to Shell’s extraordinary age and lifestyle. The piece described Shell as a vigorous man who, despite his advanced years, still chopped wood, tended to his farm, and enjoyed walking in the mountains.

John Shell with his youngest son, Albert Shell

The Shell Homeplace

The Shell homeplace, located in Leslie County, Kentucky, became a popular site for visitors eager to meet the legendary centenarian. People traveled from all over the country to see if the stories of his longevity were true. Many visitors were struck by Shell’s vitality and sharp mind, noting that he did not seem as old as his claimed age would suggest.

The homeplace itself was a testament to Appalachian ingenuity and self-sufficiency. The Shell family lived in a log cabin that John had built himself, surrounded by gardens and fields that provided much of their food. The property also featured various outbuildings, including a blacksmith shop and a smokehouse, reflecting the skills and resources necessary for survival in the mountains.

John Shell homeplace

Skepticism and Legend

While many people were fascinated by Shell’s claims of extreme old age, there were also skeptics. Birth records from the late 18th century were often unreliable or non-existent, making it difficult to verify Shell’s age definitively. Some historians and genealogists have suggested that Shell’s true age may have been exaggerated, either through honest error or deliberate embellishment. Many speculate that his actual birth year would have been between 1805-1810.

Despite the skepticism, John Shell remained a beloved figure in Kentucky folklore. His story encapsulates the rugged individualism and resilience of the Appalachian people. Whether he was truly 134 years old or not, Shell’s life was marked by hard work, self-reliance, and a deep connection to the land.

The sign reads “John Shell, Oldest Man in the World 131 Years, Admission 15 cents”

Legacy

John Shell passed away on July 5, 1922. By then, he had become a symbol of longevity and the enduring spirit of the Appalachian people. His life story continues to be celebrated in Kentucky, with various landmarks and events commemorating his legacy.

In modern times, the legend of John Shell serves as a reminder of the rich oral traditions and cultural heritage of Appalachia. His story is told and retold, blending fact and folklore in a way that keeps his memory alive. The exact truth of his age may never be known, but John Shell’s place in the annals of Appalachian history is secure. His life is a testament to the enduring fascination with longevity and the human capacity to thrive in even the most challenging environments.

Shane

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The Story Behind State Street in Bristol, Virginia/Tennessee

Bristol is a unique city, famously straddling the state line between Virginia and Tennessee. The boundary between the two states runs right down the middle of State Street, making this thoroughfare a central feature of the city’s identity and history. State Street is more than just a road; it symbolizes the unity and division of two states and holds a rich tapestry of cultural, historical, and musical significance.

Famous sign along State Street.

A Tale of Two Cities

Bristol is actually two cities: Bristol, Virginia, and Bristol, Tennessee. The two cities operate independently, each with its own government, schools, and services. However, they share a common heritage and history, deeply intertwined by geography and community. State Street is the physical manifestation of this dual identity, with one side of the street in Virginia and the other in Tennessee.

The Early Years

Bristol’s origins date back to the early 19th century. The area that would become Bristol was originally part of a vast wilderness explored by pioneers. In 1852, a notable event set the stage for Bristol’s development: the construction of the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad. Joseph R. Anderson, a businessman and entrepreneur, saw potential in the area and founded the town of Bristol, Tennessee. Soon after, in 1856, another town, Goodson (later renamed Bristol, Virginia), was established on the Virginia side.

State Street naturally became the central artery connecting the two towns. Its placement along the state line made it a unique feature, drawing residents and businesses to settle along its path. The towns grew, largely due to the railroad, which brought commerce and travelers to the area.

State Street: The Heart of Bristol

As Bristol developed, State Street emerged as the main commercial and social hub. The street was lined with businesses, shops, and theaters, becoming a bustling center of activity. The architecture along State Street reflects the evolution of the city, with buildings dating back to the late 19th and early 20th centuries, showcasing styles from Victorian to Art Deco.

State Street also played a crucial role during significant historical events. During the Civil War, the street witnessed the movement of troops and supplies, given its strategic location along the railroad. Post-war, the street became a symbol of recovery and growth as the community rebuilt and prospered.

Video of State Street

The Birthplace of Country Music

One of the most significant chapters in State Street’s history is its association with country music. In 1927, the Bristol Sessions, often referred to as the “Big Bang of Country Music,” were recorded here. Talent scout Ralph Peer of the Victor Talking Machine Company set up a temporary studio on State Street and recorded local musicians, including the Carter Family and Jimmie Rodgers. These recordings are considered seminal in the development of country music, earning Bristol the title of the “Birthplace of Country Music.”

Mural along State Street denoting its rank as the Birthplace of Country Music.

Today, the Birthplace of Country Music Museum, located near State Street, celebrates this rich musical heritage. The museum preserves and promotes the legacy of the Bristol Sessions and the cultural impact of country music.

A Street of Festivals and Celebrations

State Street is not only a historical landmark but also a venue for numerous festivals and events that celebrate the community’s heritage and culture. The annual Bristol Rhythm & Roots Reunion is a three-day music festival that draws thousands of visitors to State Street. This event features a diverse lineup of artists, paying homage to the city’s musical roots and bringing together people from both sides of the state line.

Throughout the year, State Street hosts parades, farmers’ markets, and community gatherings, reinforcing its role as the heart of the city. These events highlight the unique blend of Virginian and Tennessean cultures, fostering a sense of unity and shared identity among residents.

Getting a photo crossing the state line is a must.

Modern-Day State Street

Today, State Street continues to be a vibrant and dynamic part of Bristol. The street is lined with an eclectic mix of shops, restaurants, and businesses, attracting locals and tourists alike. Walking down State Street, one can experience the charm of historic buildings alongside modern amenities, a testament to the city’s ability to preserve its heritage while embracing the future.

The iconic sign that spans State Street at the intersection of State and Volunteer Parkway/Euclid Avenue reads, “Bristol: A Good Place to Live,” symbolizing the pride and sense of community that defines the city. This sign has become a beloved landmark, representing the spirit of Bristol and the unique bond between its two halves.

Conclusion

State Street in Bristol, Virginia/Tennessee, is more than just a road; it is a living narrative of a community that thrives on its unique duality. From its early days as a railroad town to its pivotal role in the birth of country music, State Street encapsulates the rich history and vibrant culture of Bristol. It stands as a testament to the power of unity and the shared heritage of two cities, making it a cherished landmark in the Appalachian region.

Shane

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“Copperhead Road” by Steve Earle: A Song of Rebellion and Tradition

“Copperhead Road,” written and performed by Steve Earle, is a song that captures the rugged spirit and tumultuous history of the Appalachian region. Released in 1988 as the title track of Earle’s third studio album, “Copperhead Road” has become an anthem of rebellion and resilience, resonating deeply with listeners through its vivid storytelling and gritty sound.

The Real Copperhead Road (now known as Copperhead Hollow Road) in Mountain City, Tennessee.

The Song’s Narrative

The song unfolds in three distinct verses, each chronicling the life of a different member of the Pettimore family. The narrative spans three generations, painting a picture of a family caught in a cycle of illicit activities, reflective of the struggles and defiance that characterize much of Appalachian history.

  1. First Generation: The song begins with the story of John Lee Pettimore, the protagonist’s grandfather, who was a moonshiner during Prohibition. Earle describes how John Lee ran illegal whiskey along Copperhead Road, a rural backroad notorious for its moonshine operations. The verse captures the danger and thrill of evading law enforcement, illustrating the lengths to which people went to survive during hard times.
  2. Second Generation: The narrative then shifts to John Lee Pettimore’s son, who inherited the moonshining business. However, his life is cut short when federal agents discover and destroy his still, a fate not uncommon for many moonshiners during the crackdown on illegal distilleries.
  3. Third Generation: The final verse tells the story of John Lee Pettimore III, a Vietnam War veteran. Returning home disillusioned and haunted by his experiences, he decides to grow marijuana in place of moonshine, continuing the family’s tradition of illicit activity. The song concludes with a sense of defiance, as the protagonist rigs his property with land mines to protect his new crop from the authorities.

The chorus, with its iconic line “You better stay away from Copperhead Road,” serves as a stark warning and a testament to the enduring legacy of rebellion and resistance in the Appalachian Mountains.

The Real Community Behind the Song

While “Copperhead Road” is a fictional story, it is deeply rooted in the real culture and history of the Appalachian region, particularly in parts of Tennessee, Kentucky, and Virginia. The song reflects the following aspects of this community:

Video of our drive down the real Copperhead Road in Johnson County, Tennessee.
  1. Moonshining Heritage: Moonshining has a long history in Appalachia, dating back to the 18th century. The practice of distilling homemade liquor became widespread due to the isolation of the region and the economic necessity faced by its inhabitants. The rugged terrain and dense forests provided cover for these illegal operations, making moonshining a viable way of life for many families.
  2. Prohibition and Federal Crackdowns: During Prohibition (1920-1933), moonshining flourished as legal alcohol production was banned. However, the subsequent crackdown by federal agents, known as “revenuers,” brought violence and tension to the region. The stories of moonshiners evading capture and sometimes facing fatal confrontations with law enforcement are a significant part of Appalachian folklore.
  3. Vietnam War Impact: The Vietnam War had a profound impact on rural America, including the Appalachian region. Many young men from these communities were drafted and sent to fight in a distant, controversial conflict. Their return home was often fraught with difficulties, including reintegration into civilian life and coping with the psychological scars of war. The shift from moonshining to marijuana cultivation in the song symbolizes the changes and continuity in illegal enterprises as a means of survival.
  4. Cultural Resilience: The Appalachian people are known for their resilience and independence. The song’s depiction of the Pettimore family’s determination to resist authority and continue their way of life, despite the risks, mirrors the real-life spirit of many Appalachian communities. This resilience is celebrated in the song and resonates with listeners who appreciate the strength and tenacity of these mountain folk.
Video of Copperhead Road by Steve Earle

Conclusion

“Copperhead Road” by Steve Earle is more than just a song; it is a powerful narrative that encapsulates the spirit of Appalachia. Through its vivid storytelling and raw, energetic sound, the song pays homage to the region’s history of moonshining, the impact of war, and the enduring resilience of its people. While the tale of the Pettimore family is fictional, it draws heavily on the real-life experiences and cultural heritage of the Appalachian community, making it a timeless anthem of rebellion and survival.

Shane

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The Pikeville Cut-Through Project: Engineering Marvel and Community Transformation

Nestled in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains, Pikeville, Kentucky, is a town that proudly showcases a remarkable feat of engineering and urban planning: the Pikeville Cut-Through Project. This ambitious project, often heralded as one of the largest earth-moving endeavors in the Western Hemisphere, has not only transformed the town’s landscape but also revitalized its economy and infrastructure.

The Need for Change

Before the Cut-Through Project, Pikeville faced significant challenges that hindered its growth and development. The Levisa Fork of the Big Sandy River meandered through the town, causing frequent and devastating floods. The river’s serpentine path, coupled with the town’s location in a narrow valley, also limited space for expansion and posed ongoing risks to residents and businesses. The main rail line and U.S. Route 23 ran through the town, creating bottlenecks and hampering traffic flow.

Recognizing the urgent need for a solution, Dr. William Hambley, then mayor of Pikeville, envisioned an ambitious plan to relocate the river, the railroad, and the highway, effectively cutting through the mountain to create new space for the town’s growth. This vision, conceived in the late 1960s, would eventually lead to the groundbreaking Pikeville Cut-Through Project.

The Scope and Execution

The Pikeville Cut-Through Project officially commenced in November 1973. The monumental task involved the excavation of approximately 18 million cubic yards of earth and rock to create a three-quarter-mile-long cut through Peach Orchard Mountain. The project aimed to:

  1. Divert the Levisa Fork River: The river was redirected through the cut, mitigating the flood risk and reclaiming valuable land for development.
  2. Relocate the Railroad: The rail line was moved to run through the new cut, freeing the town from the disruptive presence of trains passing through its center.
  3. Construct a New Highway: U.S. Route 23 was rerouted through the cut, alleviating traffic congestion and improving access to Pikeville.

The engineering challenges were immense, requiring careful planning and coordination. Blasting through solid rock, managing water flow, and ensuring the stability of the newly created slopes were critical components of the project. Despite these challenges, the project proceeded with remarkable efficiency, driven by the determination and collaboration of engineers, construction workers, and local leaders.

The Impact on Pikeville

Completed in 1987, the Pikeville Cut-Through Project fundamentally changed the town’s geography and opened up new possibilities for its future. The benefits of the project were multifaceted:

  1. Flood Control: By diverting the river, the project effectively ended the cycle of destructive floods that had plagued Pikeville for decades. This not only protected existing properties but also made additional land available for development.
  2. Economic Growth: With new land for expansion and improved transportation infrastructure, Pikeville experienced a surge in economic activity. Businesses thrived, and new opportunities emerged for commercial and residential development.
  3. Improved Transportation: The relocation of the railroad and highway significantly improved traffic flow, making Pikeville more accessible and enhancing its appeal as a regional hub.
  4. Enhanced Quality of Life: The project created new recreational areas, including parks and trails, fostering a greater sense of community and improving the overall quality of life for residents.

A Lasting Legacy

The Pikeville Cut-Through Project stands as a testament to human ingenuity and the power of visionary leadership. It has been widely recognized as one of the most significant civil engineering achievements in the United States. The project not only solved pressing environmental and logistical challenges but also laid the groundwork for Pikeville’s continued growth and prosperity.

Today, visitors to Pikeville can witness the scale of the Cut-Through by visiting overlooks and viewing areas that provide stunning vistas of the transformed landscape. The project is a source of pride for the community, symbolizing resilience, innovation, and the enduring spirit of the Appalachian people.

Conclusion

The Pikeville Cut-Through Project is more than just an engineering marvel; it is a story of transformation and hope. By reimagining the possibilities of their environment, the people of Pikeville turned a vision into reality, overcoming natural and logistical barriers to create a brighter future. The project continues to inspire and serve as a model for communities facing similar challenges, demonstrating that with determination and ingenuity, even the most daunting obstacles can be overcome.

You can watch a video from the overlook showing how the city looks these days here:

Shane

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The Brookside Coal Strike: A Defining Moment in Harlan County, Kentucky

In the early 1970s, the rolling hills and coal-rich valleys of Harlan County, Kentucky, became the stage for a dramatic and pivotal labor struggle that would capture the nation’s attention. The Brookside Coal Strike, a fierce and often violent confrontation between miners and the Eastover Mining Company (a subsidiary of Duke Energy), highlighted the ongoing fight for workers’ rights, fair wages, and safe working conditions. Let’s take a closer look at this crucial chapter in labor history.

The Setting: Harlan County

Harlan County, nestled in the Appalachian Mountains, had long been synonymous with coal mining. The region’s rich coal seams attracted thousands of workers who labored under harsh and often dangerous conditions. For many families, mining was not just a job but a way of life, passed down through generations. However, this way of life came with significant hardships, including low wages, unsafe working conditions, and little job security.

The Spark: Contract Negotiations

The Brookside Mine, owned by the Eastover Mining Company, became the epicenter of the conflict in 1973. The miners, represented by the United Mine Workers of America (UMWA), were fighting for a new contract that would ensure better wages, improved safety standards, and greater job security. When negotiations stalled and Eastover refused to recognize the union, the miners voted to strike.

The Struggle: A Fight for Justice

The Brookside Strike was characterized by its intensity and the high stakes for both sides. Striking miners and their families faced immense challenges, including financial hardship, intimidation, and violence. Picket lines were established, and tensions quickly escalated as Eastover brought in replacement workers and sought to break the strike. The miners, determined to stand their ground, were supported by the broader community and labor activists from across the country.

Key Figures and Events

One of the most prominent figures in the strike was Florence Reece, a local activist and the wife of a union organizer. She became an enduring symbol of the labor movement, particularly through her song “Which Side Are You On?” which became an anthem for the striking miners. The song, originally written during an earlier Harlan County conflict in the 1930s, resonated deeply with the community and rallying support for the strike.

Florence Reece

The conflict also saw tragic events, including violent clashes between miners and strikebreakers, resulting in injuries and fatalities. The strife reached a critical point when a gun battle erupted, leading to the death of miner Lawrence Jones, a tragedy that underscored the lethal seriousness of the struggle.

The Role of Media and Documentary

The Brookside Strike gained national attention through the work of filmmaker Barbara Kopple, who documented the conflict in her 1976 Oscar-winning film, “Harlan County, USA.” The documentary brought the miners’ plight into the living rooms of America, showcasing their resilience and the harsh realities of life in Harlan County. Kopple’s work was instrumental in galvanizing public support for the miners and highlighting the broader issues of labor rights and corporate power.

The Resolution and Legacy

The Brookside Strike officially ended in 1974 when Eastover Mining Company finally agreed to a contract recognizing the UMWA and addressing many of the miners’ demands. The resolution marked a significant victory for the labor movement, but the struggle left deep scars on the community. The Brookside Coal Strike of the 1970s remains a defining moment in the history of labor rights in the United States.

The former company store at Brookside, now an abandoned building.

Surprisingly, these days there’s not a single working miner who is a member of the UMWA. It is quite a different time from the days of the Brookside Strike.

Shane

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The American chestnut tree (Castanea dentata) was once a dominant species in the Appalachian forests, making up an estimated 25% of the hardwood canopy. These majestic trees, which could grow over 100 feet tall and live for centuries, were a cornerstone of the ecosystem and a vital resource for both wildlife and human communities. However, the arrival of the chestnut blight in the early 20th century led to one of the most devastating ecological disasters in American history.

Introduction of the Blight

The chestnut blight is caused by the fungus Cryphonectria parasitica, which was inadvertently introduced to North America around 1904, likely through imported nursery stock from Asia. Unlike the American chestnut, Asian chestnut species had co-evolved with the fungus and developed a level of resistance. The American chestnuts, however, had no such defenses, making them highly susceptible to the disease.

Spread and Impact

The blight was first identified in the Bronx Zoo in New York City and spread rapidly through the eastern United States. The fungus enters the tree through wounds in the bark, creating cankers that girdle the tree and cut off the flow of nutrients and water. Within a few decades, the blight had killed an estimated 3.5 billion American chestnut trees across the Appalachian range and beyond.

Ecological Consequences

The loss of the American chestnut had profound ecological impacts. The trees were a crucial food source for wildlife, producing large quantities of nutritious nuts that fed bears, deer, squirrels, and numerous bird species. Their rapid decline disrupted these food chains and altered forest dynamics.

Additionally, the American chestnut’s rot-resistant wood was highly valued for construction, furniture, and tannin production. Its sudden absence forced communities to find alternative materials and economic activities, often with significant hardship.

Efforts at Restoration

In response to this catastrophe, various efforts have been undertaken to restore the American chestnut to its former glory. The most promising approaches involve cross-breeding with blight-resistant Asian chestnuts, genetic engineering, and backcrossing methods to retain the American chestnut’s desirable characteristics while incorporating disease resistance.

Organizations such as The American Chestnut Foundation have been at the forefront of these restoration efforts. They have developed hybrid trees with increased resistance to the blight and are working to reintroduce these hybrids into the wild.

Conclusion

The chestnut blight transformed the Appalachian forests and had a lasting impact on the region’s ecology and economy. While the American chestnut as it once existed has been largely lost, ongoing scientific efforts offer hope that this iconic tree may one day reclaim its place in the Appalachian landscape. The legacy of the chestnut blight serves as a poignant reminder of the vulnerability of ecosystems to introduced diseases and the importance of preserving biodiversity.

When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder

Shane

I stopped at a convenience store to relieve myself of some excess Diet Coke in the restroom. I was in a rush to get back on the road so when I started to leave, I picked up the pace of my walking.

I headed around the edge of a rack filled with candy bars and other goodies still hot-stepping it. I didn’t notice until it was too late that I was cutting off a very frail-appearing elderly man who was walking at a very slow pace while stooped over with his back bent. His neck has what appeared to be fresh stitches and scars that seemed to indicate he’d recently had a medical procedure performed on him. He reminded me of the old-timey coal miners that walked with a similar stoop from duck-walking in the mines.

I felt pretty rotten about how I’d almost caused a collision with him from my selfish actions. I decided to try to do some small something to atone for my rudeness. I stood holding the door for him to come out behind me and he slowly ambled his way out of the store.

He slowly craned his neck to look at me and said, “Thank you, friend, what do I owe you?” I said “Not one thing in this world.” Not accepting that, he replied, “How about if I give you a warm smile?” To which I said, “I’ll sure take it, those are hard to come by these days.” He then went on to say, “There would be a lot more of them if folks got right with God.” I agreed and said, “Amen, ain’t that the truth.” He seemed pleased to know that I held the same belief as him regarding a belief in a higher power. He parted ways with me by adding, “I probably won’t see you again down here, but I’ll holler at you when we I see you up yonder.” I smiled and said, “That sounds great, I look forward to it.”

We waved a goodbye and hopped in our cars headed out in different directions in life. I know he was probably right about us not seeing each other again, but I’m gonna hold him to his word about hollering at me when the roll is called up yonder. Some random brief encounters in this ol’ life give you the best blessings.

I have no idea what his name is or where he is from, but none of that matters because I know where he is headed and the next time I see him, we’ll both have brand new bodies free from the wear and tear of this world.

The Joy And Sadness Of Reading

Shane

I am (and rightly should be) embarrassed to admit that I quit reading for well over ten years. Yet, I have written three books during that time, quite odd, but I am a strange person. My first book even won the Award of Excellence given out by the East Tennessee Historical Society, so I must have a modicum of talent for it.

Why and how did I decide to quit reading? The same excuses everyone else uses: no free time, slow reader, poor attention span, etc. All legitimate issues to be sure, but none that cannot be overcome. I was so warped that I almost bragged about it as if it were something to be proud of. I hate to write those words to even admit it, but I am on a quest to be authentic, for better and worse.

Fortunately, at some point earlier this year, I had an awakening. I challenged every way in which I described myself. Where I once would say “I am not a reader,” I instead asked, “Why am I not a reader?” After pondering this question, I realized it all comes down to a lack of self-discipline. That is not a happy realization to have, but the truth tends to bruise your ego.

I made a commitment that I would work toward becoming a reader. I would sit down and plow through a book, no matter how slow I read or how long it took to finish. I knew I had to choose a subject that would interest me. I decided to go with the book Based on a True Story: Not a Memoir. I love humor and he was my favorite comedian, so I deduced that if I would read anything in this world without quitting, it would be his book.

I started in and read the first chapter. I was proud of myself for taking that first step. The next night I read another. On the third night, I read two more chapters. I started to see I was deep into the book. I kept rolling until I got close to the end. I began to feel a little sad when it came to the last few pages. It felt like it was my last conversation with a close friend. Experiencing the finality of the book was something I had never felt before.

Reading someone’s writing brings you into their world. I notice even from my experience that all writing has an element of the writer poured into it. It is a very personal thing to write and allow others to read.

For some godforsaken reason, I chose “The Sound and the Fury” by William Faulkner to read next. It felt like whiplash in going from light comedic reading straight into the stream-of-consciousness style of Faulkner. That book was a mountain to climb for me and my rusty reading skills. I had so much trouble processing it that I had to do a Google search. It wasn’t surprising to discover it ranked as the #2 most difficult book to read. Shew, lawdy, I am still not sure how I managed it, but I am glad I did. I celebrated the final few pages of that beast.

I went from that book back to the breezy comedian autobiography genre to decompress my mind. I grabbed the autobiography of Hee Haw star Archie Campbell. I noticed my reading skills had sharpened so much that I could read all 160 pages in three sittings. Again, I felt the same mournful feeling as I got close to the end. There’s something about knowing that you have just about fully uncovered the life story of someone you admire that makes it bittersweet.

I am now working on Chili Dawgs Always Bark at Night by Lewis Grizzard before attempting to tackle heavier fare. I apparently have a weakness for deceased comedians.

I now officially consider myself a reader and am proud of it. If you read this, thank you. It is an honor and a privilege to know people take precious time away from their lives that could be spent on a million other things to read my work. I think reading will make me a better writer. Having read Faulkner, I see I bring the equivalent of a tricycle to a motorcycle race. I will keep pedaling along, though.

These Mountains Are Hateful

Shane

I love these old mountains as much as anyone I know, but that love gets tested from time to time. This past weekend was one such occasion.

My 19-year-old son and 5-year-old daughter decided it would be a good idea to go to the Carowinds theme park in Charlotte yesterday. It was to be a fun-filled last hurrah of summer before he goes off to college and she begins school for the first time. Nothing would stop us from having fun…or so we thought. On the bright side, we ended up having fun at the park despite the blistering heat and getting separated from each other for almost two hours.

We left the park a shade before 8 pm, hoping to get home by around 11ish. A reasonable goal that would not put a strain on bedtimes. It was at this point the chaos began. We had entered that dimension known as The Twilight Zone.

My son’s love for Chipotle passes all human understanding, so we pulled into their location in Gastonia. It all went well for him. My daughter and I aren’t nearly as passionate about Chipotle, so we opted to go to Chick-fil-A instead. This is about the time when the wheels came off on our journey home. Fortunately, I don’t mean that literally, but wheels coming off was about the only thing we didn’t experience. 

Our last pic before the nightmare trip back home.

Chick-fil-A was closed. As painful as that was on its face, the hurt doubled when I saw they closed at 9:00 pm and that we’d gotten there at 9:03 pm. In the words of Maxwell Smart from the old Get Smart tv show, “missed it by THAT much.” Adding insult to injury, my bright 5-year-old had a question that I didn’t have a good answer for, “Daddy, why is Chuck E. Cheese still open and Chick-fil-A not?” That was a checkmate. I had no good answer.

We scrambled around, looking for another food option, and finally settled on Taco Bell. All goes well save for the fact now we are so twisted and deep into Gastonia that GPS routes us a different way home. I hadn’t picked up on the change until we were deep into the drive back.

We drove up through Hickory, Lenoir, Granite Falls, Boone, and on into Mountain City, Tennessee. I am wilting with fatigue by this time, but the end of the drive is in sight, or so I thought. 

Once we’d gotten back to Lenoir, I’d handed my phone over to my daughter to keep her entertained, as she wasn’t enjoying this drive home and wasn’t shy about expressing her dissatisfaction. I know, I know, I know that handing electronics over to a child is a cardinal sin these days, but you’d be surprised at how quickly you will make a deal with the Devil to get some peace in a stressful situation.

Just as we passed through Mountain City, the cell service goes kaput. My daughter was not a happy camper at having her Roblox game messed up. She hands me the phone in disgust and soon she starts up with the “Are we almost home?” questions again.

We pass through Laurel Bloomery and are about to hit Damascus when disaster strikes. A tree had fallen perfectly across the road, blocking the route and making it impassable–at least for the low-to-the-ground Toyota Corolla I happen to sport. The tree was too big and heavy to move, so we had to inch our way back on the curvy road to find a spot where we could turn around.

We start heading in the opposite direction as it is closing in on 1 am. Of course, as we all know, technology is a wonderful thing when it works, but it tends to not work when you need it the most. 

The cell service being out, I couldn’t get the GPS to work, so we worked our way back to Laurel Bloomery where we finally got one bar of service. The GPS tells me to drive another mile and then turn onto Johnson Holler Road (of course, it was spelled “hollow” but I refuse to give that word credence).

We get on Johnson Holler Road and the fog is so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was like an old episode of Scooby Doo, where Scooby and Shaggy get out a knife and cut the thick fog into donuts. Oh yeah, it was curvy and tight too. 

So, by this time, I have compounded fatigue, poor visibility, and sharp curves. I got down to about 5 mph. The road finally turns into something that looks a little more heavily traveled.

We get a little down the road before I hear my son say in a tone that sounded like he was breaking the news of someone’s impending death, “That is the convenience store we passed just before we got stuck.” Ugh, we had gone in a circle and taken almost 30 more minutes to do it. I was about to have a meltdown. I was out of ideas. I decided to turn down the side road beside the convenience store and keep driving in that direction, hoping and praying it would lead somewhere.

I got a couple of miles into it that way when my cell service kicked back in. It said to make a right at Liberty Church Road and then turn onto Rt. 421. I was excited because after the last fiasco I’d burned rt. 91 into my brain as being the one to avoid.

We go for about half a mile along 421 when I notice it has more shocking twists and turns than an M. Night Shyamalan movie. I started to get suspicious. I thought, “Oh no, it can’t be…it just can’t be…it has to be…the dreaded road known as The Snake.” Oh yes, it was The Snake, all 489 curves, three mountains, and one valley of it.

This map does not do The Snake’s curves justice.

Friends, let me tell ya, there are fewer driving experiences you want to have than to drive around 8 hours round trip, spend hours in the blistering heat of a theme park, then head across The Snake. Once my son confirmed to me that we were on The Snake, I just laughed. What else could I do? Whether it was insanity creeping in or just knowing it would be an experience I’d remember for the rest of my life (probably some of both), I finally found it funny.

We crossed The Snake, then drove past Backbone Rock, normally one of my favorite destinations, but I could not have cared less about it last night. We ended up in Damascus, so we were getting somewhere. Oh but no, our fun wasn’t over. The road from Damascus to Abingdon was closed. It looks like they have obliterated that road. I have no idea what the end goal or logic is, and it didn’t matter at 1:30 am.

We sat for almost 20 minutes until a pilot truck came and led us through the detour. It was our final bit of misery before finally getting home.

We pulled into the garage and wearily packed up our stuff. My daughter wakes up and says, “These mountains are hateful. I don’t like them.” On this night I agreed with her. 

These old mountains are like an elderly relative that has led a long hard life. You love them and you respect them, but sometimes they can be hateful.

Up In Smoke: Unsolved Mystery Of The Vanishing Sodder Children

Shane

One of the all-time great mysteries in Appalachian history comes from the little town of Fayetteville, WV. The story of the Sodder family has drawn a massive amount of scrutiny, yet has bamboozled investigators and researchers for almost 80 years now. What began as a simple Christmas holiday became a never-ending nightmare for a family of Italian immigrants.

George and Jennie Sodder, along with nine of their children (only a son in the military was absent), went to bed on Christmas Eve, 1944. 

At approximately 1 a.m. on Christmas morning, Jennie Sodder awoke to find their house had caught on fire. Jennie frantically roused her husband. Together, they attempted to round up their children to get to safety. 

George, Jennie, and four of their children made it out. George charged back into the house to save the other five missing children when he couldn’t find them outside.

George entered the house and encountered a cloud of flames and smoke. Knowing the children were likely upstairs, George went outside to where he kept a ladder, but it was missing. He then thought to use one of his two coal trucks to back them up the upstairs window, but neither would start despite firing up the day before. 

He tried to get water from a rain barrel to throw on the fire, but found it frozen.

A billowing cloud of smoke engulfed the house with, presumably, the missing Sodder children inside. The Sodder’s oldest daughter ran to a neighbor’s house to call the fire department, but there was no operator. Another neighbor who saw the flames also tried to dial the fire department, but to no avail. 

Despite the fire station being only 2 1/2 miles away, it was 8 a.m. on Christmas Day before the fire truck made it to the Sodder’s home some 7 hours after the fire began.

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George and Jeannie Sodder were despondent, thinking five of their children had perished in the fire. The Fire Chief said the fire wasn’t hot enough to incinerate the children, yet they couldn’t find any remains.. They deemed the cause of the fire to be faulty electrical wiring. The local authorities looked to close the books on the case quickly, as it appeared to have just been a tragic accident.

After the initial shock passed, the Sodders doubted their children had died in the fire. They began piecing together all the loose ends that had occurred before the fire. A series of odd events had preceded the fire that the Sodders questioned:

  • A few months before the fire, a stranger had come to their home looking for work as a coal hauler for the Sodder’s trucking company. Looking at their fuse box, he remarked, “This is going to cause a fire someday.” It struck the Sodders as odd because their system had just satisfactorily passed an inspection by the power company.
  • During that same time frame, an insurance agent had attempted to persuade them to buy life insurance. After they declined, the agent became angry. He declared that their house “is going to go up in smoke” and “your children are going to be destroyed” due to George Sodder’s outspoken criticism of Italian dictator Benito Mussolini. Fayetteville had a strong Italian community at the time and George Sodder’s harsh comments hadn’t made him popular in the neighborhood.
  • Just a few days before the fire, the older Sodder boys had spotted a strange man sitting in a car watching the children come home after school.
  • An odd phone call had come through just after midnight, shortly before the fire broke out. It turned out to be a wrong number as a female voice asked to speak with someone Jennie had never heard of. Jennie noted the sound of laughter and commotion in the background.
  • Soon after getting into bed from the phone call, Jennie heard a loud thud on the roof, followed by the sound of something rolling off. It wasn’t long after this noise that Jennie discovered the smoke in the house.

All of these strange events made strong doubts creep into the minds of the Sodders about the fate of their children. 

A series of curious happenings continued following the fire.

  • The rescue team did not find any trace of the five missing children in the rubble.
  • A follow-up inspection led a telephone repairman to tell the Sodders that it appeared someone had cut the wiring rather than it burning. They then realized that the power should have been off throughout their house if it had been faulty wiring, yet that wasn’t the case.
  • The Sodders discovered a strange object made of rubber in their yard in the days after the fire. George strongly suspected that it was the encasement of an explosive device used to start the fire.

Soon after, reported sightings poured in:

  • A witness claimed to have seen a man fleeing the scene of the fire with a block and tackle device used to remove engines from vehicles. Just the type of device that could have disabled the two coal trucks from starting.
  • A witness stated she saw the missing children in a car that passed by while the fire burned.
  • Another lady claimed to have spotted the children around 50 miles west of Fayetteville in the company of two men and two women – all Italian.

The Sodders became increasingly desperate to get answers to what became of their children. They chased every lead and hired a private investigator to assist in the search. They wrote a letter to the FBI but could not secure assistance, reportedly due to a lack of cooperation from the Fayetteville police and fire departments. 

The Sodders had the site excavated and went through the debris looking for any sign of the children – but nothing turned up. 

George and Jennie Sodder offered a reward of $5,000 for information. They erected an enormous billboard along Route 16 that stood for years.

The last major development occurred in 1968 when Jennie Sodder received a letter postmarked in Kentucky with just a picture inside. The back of the photo read, “Louis Sodder. I love brother Frankie. Ilil Boys. A90132 or 35.” The photo bore an uncanny resemblance to their son Louis, who was 9-years-old at the time of the fire. 

The mysterious picture received in the mail.

The Sodders once again hired a private investigator to follow up on the letter to see if anything would come of it. They once again came up empty-handed.

George Sodder passed away not long after they received the letter. He left behind Jennie and numerous unresolved questions about his children. Jennie became more and more withdrawn as she secluded herself inside their home. She wore only black clothes in a show of continued mourning.

She kept up the billboard until she finally passed away in 1989. The remaining Sodder children and grandchildren continued to investigate the circumstances of the fire. 

The mystery continues to this day as questions about what happened still far outweigh answers.

Theories abound as many think the children perished in the fire and that it completely incinerated their remains. Several people believe the children were kidnapped by someone they knew, which explains why they didn’t put up a struggle. 

Some think the Sodders were victims of arson and that the children were taken to Italy or sold into slavery – perhaps by someone with ties to the mafia. 

The real truth may never be known, but one sad truth cannot be changed – George and Jennie Sodder both left this world without ever having closure about the fate of their five precious children. The torment and nightmare of their lives following the fire is an unspeakable tragedy that no one should ever have to face. 

What do you think happened?