Flukey Posey – Baritone, Sheep Shearer & More

by David Parmer

Making A Joyful Noise
The Oil Creek Valley around Orlando has a remarkable acoustical quality. Many former Orlando residents have remarked on the clear sounds of the railroad trains as they approached Orlando from the north and south and how close they seemed to be, or how clearly Mike Moran could be heard a thousand yards away calling to his collie dog Major on an evening day.

Another sound which greeted Orlando residents as they sat on their front porches on calm evenings in the middle of the last century was the unmistakable baritone melody of an old hymn wafting on the twilight breezes coming from down Oil Creek. Can’t you just hear the praiseful ode? Everyone within earshot recognized the baritone voice of Flukey Posey as he praised the Almighty from his front porch on Road Run about a mile away by the way the crow flies. Flukey was nothing less than fervent when he gave thanks to the Lord in song and he wanted all to hear his piety. On Sundays Orlando Methodists enjoyed Flukey’s singing in a more formal setting as he, Hays Riffle, Hayward Riffle and Joe McCauley served as the songmasters at the Orlando Methodist Church.

Above right, Daniel Floyd "Flukey" Posey (1880-1958).
Below left, Mina B. (Conrad) Posey (1883-1966)

Flukey & Mina's Farm
Daniel Floyd "Flukey" Posey and his wife Mina (Conrad) Posey worked hard on their farm on Road Run. Their grandson Wesley Riffle remembers life on the Road Run farm with much fondness and his grandparents with great admiration. Life on the farm, although a lot of hard work, nonetheless was enjoyable. Wesley said they raised everything they ate and the only thing they bought at the store was snuff for his grandmother and tobacco for his grandfather.

Farming Poultry
The farm was awash with poultry year round. Turkeys, geese, and chickens galore roamed the seventythree acre farm near the head of Road Run searching for natural foods to eat such as grasshoppers, beetles, worms, caterpillars, and anything else that came into sight. This natural diet for the fowl was generously supplemented by corn and other grains raised by Flukey on his productive farm. Wesley Riffle, now 83, and living in Williamstown, advises us that he was raised by his grandparents, Flukey and Mina Posey on the Road Run farm and that his grandfather always raised a crop of sorghum. After the sorghum was harvested, the heads of the canes would be dried in the loft of the barn and would be used to feed the poultry crops. Wesley recalls that the flocks of birds loved the seed from the cane heads. The poultry raised by Flukey and his wife not only ended up on their dining table but also on the tables of Orlando and Burnsville restaurants and homes. The poultry business of Bill Barnett of Orlando also sent Flukey-raised poultry to places like Pittsburgh, Baltimore and Philadelphia from the Orlando freight terminal of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad1. Flukey’s flocks also were well known by the foxes roaming the hills of Road Run and adjoining hills according to Flukey’s grandson Richard Strader The foxes did their best to keep the flocks thinned out but there were still plenty left to supplement the income of the Posey household and to pack in Bill Barnett’s barrels for shipment to urban markets.

Raising Hogs
Flukey’s grandson, Richard Strader, also tells us that Flukey would raise three or four “bunches of hogs” per year. Just how many hogs this amounts to is uncertain, but it is certain to have produced a lot of breakfast sausage and Sunday ham dinners for the Posey dinner table during the year.

Flukey Was A Builder
The home of Flukey and Mina Posey was a log house with porches on both sides on the southern side of Road Run. We are not sure when the house was built or who built it. Flukey, in his lifetime, added a couple of rooms onto the original structure and built a cellar house on the lower side. Flukey was a fair to middlin’ carpenter in his own right, as were most of the old-timers in their day. Flukey also worked for neighbors in the construction of dwellings and outbuildings. Uncle Zeke reported in 1932 that Flukey and O. M. Stutler were building a barn for “Boss” Riffle on Posey Run.

Another demonstration of Flukey’s versatility in earning a living was reported by Uncle Zeke in his Buzzardtown News. Flukey helped satisfy the demand of the coal mines around Gilmer, Bower and Copen by cutting mine props from the wooded areas of his farm in the 1920s. Flukey’s son-in-law Linzy Strader and Jim Bee also helped in this endeavor.

To the right is Mina and Flukey's daughter Mae Posey whith her husband Linzy Strader with their granddaughter Trisha.

Flukey the Hunter
Junior Strader, Flukey’s grandson, advises us that Flukey was a crack shot with his .22 rifle. Junior tells us that Flukey could sit on his porch and pick off groundhogs sunning themselves 75 to 100 yards away. Junior also recalls his grandfather being a stickler for proper hunting techniques. For example, when Flukey took family members hunting, gun safety was paramount. Flukey always insisted that upon crossing a fence the hunter’s gun had to be unloaded, broken down, and handed to another hunter. While rabbit hunting, the hunters had to stay in line and not point their weapons toward another hunter. Any offending hunter would incur the embarrassment of having his ammunition confiscated until the offender acknowledged and accepted his mistake. Flukey’s prowess as a hunter was reported by Uncle Zeke in a 1936 column of the Buzzardtown News. Uncle Zeke reported that Flukey “says he killed three squirrels with one shot.” Now whether this was what Flukey said or whether Uncle Zeke was exaggerating what Flukey said is up for question. Of course, if it were true, Flukey was indeed a remarkable marksman. The truthfulness of Flukey’s “three squirrels with one shot” has, however been confirmed by Wesley Riffle, Flukey’s grandson, who was also hunting with Flukey on that day. Wesley was keeping track of the number of shots Flukey took with his 16 gauge shotgun. After the hunt when the squirrels were being counted Flukey had two more squirrels than shots he had taken. Flukey told Wesley that he saw a squirrel tail waving and that he shot where he thought the squirrel was sitting. When it fell from the tree, Flukey at first thought it was the world’s largest squirrel. Upon reaching “the” squirrel, he found that in fact there were three of them.

Mina Was A Democrat
Whether Flukey was interested in politics, or not, we don’t know, but his wife Mina more than made up for any shortcoming on Flukey’s part. Mina was a dyed-in-the-wool Democrat and was an avid follower of every election. Helen Jeffries2 recalls Mina coming to the Henline home in Orlando to listen to the election returns on HeaterHuck’s3 radio. In those days, elections were not decided by 9 p.m. but were often uncallable until the wee hours in the morning. Whenever the results were known, Mina would start for home down the B & O tracks for Road Run. Of course, Mina was usually happy when she started out for home because the “Demmycrats” most always won the tally.

Flukey Sheared Sheep
Flukey’s local fame however was not his singing prowess, or how many chickens he raised, or how many mine props he could cut, or how groundhogs and squirrels feared him, but rather his amazing ability to shear sheep.

In the early part of the 20th century, sheep farming was probably the primary livestock farming done in central West Virginia . Nearly all farmers in the Oil Creek and Clover Fork valleys raised sheep. Sheep farming provided two returns on the investment: meat and wool. In the spring , after the hard winters had ended, and the wool was still in fairly pristine condition, sheep had to be sheared. The recognized expert sheep shearer in the Oil Creek valley was Flukey Posey. Flukey was a large man, maybe six feet two, and was a well conditioned two hundred pounds. Sheep are not all together cooperative when being sheared and the shearer needs to apply muscle along with the adeptness with shears. Flukey was graced with both qualities and could quickly shear a sheep with a minimum of trouble.

Flukey used a portable shearing machine. This device sat on folding legs, and had a handle which was removable and flexible. The machine was powered by a hand crank which required the services of a helper to turn the crank while Flukey set the sheep on its rump, and began shearing from the neck down. After just a few minutes, he would have a full fleece removed from the sheep and would be ready for the next one. According to Richard Strader, Flukey contracted with farmers all over the Orlando area from Rocky Fork to Clover Fork, to shear their sheep. Richard, a sometimes cranker of the shearing machine, tells us that Flukey would charge from 15 cents to 25 cents per sheep. Flukey would strap his portable shearing machine behind his saddle and start out early in the morning to the farm he was working that day. It often was the case that Flukey would spend more time getting to the farm to shear the sheep than it took him to actually do the job. Richard estimates that Flukey would shear hundreds of sheep a year. Uncle Zeke reported in a column in June of 1933 that Flukey had sheared 574 sheep that season so far.

To the left, this portable sheep shearing machine taken from the internet fits the description of those who remember Flukey's shearing machine.

Dale Barnett recollects that just after sheep shearing season, a wool buyer would come to the Orlando freight station beside Charlie Knight’s store to buy the season’s sheep fleeces. Dale tells us that the buyer had what appeared to be burlap bags, probably 10 or 12 feet long to hold the bundled fleeces which would then be loaded on B & O freights and shipped to the woolen markets of Baltimore or some other place.

Flukey Did Some Smithing
Wesley also tells us that in addition to all of the other means of earning a living, his grandfather was also a blacksmith. Flukey would order horseshoe iron through Charlie Knight’s store and would make horseshoes and shoe horses. Wesley recalls helping his grandfather on one occasion when a red-hot piece of horseshoe iron broke off, flew up and struck him in the chest and lodged in his rib cage. Wesley carries the scar of the incident to this day. An interesting side note to Flukey’s blacksmithing is that he fueled his blacksmith forge with coal which he dug on his farm from a coal bank. In fact for several years Flukey burned this coal in his house for heat. The coal however was “high sulphur” and aggravated Flukey’s asthma so he ceased using it.

The Good Grandpa
Wesley Riffle, Flukey’s grandson, recalls Flukey with much admiration. Wesley was raised by his grandparents and recalls that Flukey “possessed the wisdom of Solomon.” One day Wesley had planned on going night fishing with four friends. Wesley had gotten all of his chores done, had dug his fishing worms, and was gathering his fishing pole when his grandfather asked him where he was going. Upon advising his grandfather of his fishing plans, Flukey said that he couldn’t go. Being the obedient grandson, Wesley sat aside his fishing plans. The next day, Wesley learned that his four friends had spent the night in jail in Burnsville for illegally fishing with gill nets. Wesley says that but for the wisdom of his grandfather he would have been sitting in jail also.

But It Wasn't A Fluke
I have asked numerous people how Flukey got his nickname but all, save one, hadn’t a clue. At last, Wesley Riffle told us that when his grandfather decided to court a daughter of John B. Conrad who lived over the hill on Riffle Run, the girl he was first interested in was not his eventual wife Mina, but her sister Lizzie. While he was courting, Flukey would get involved in shooting matches with the brothers of Lizzie and Mina, and would always win these contests. The Conrad brothers, apparently hurt by losing, thought their sisters’ boyfriend was not a good marksman and considered his shooting success a “fluke”, hence the nickname “Flukey”. The nickname stuck and Floyd was “Flukey” from then on.

All life must end and the life of Daniel Floyd “Flukey” Posey ended in 1958 at the age of 77. His wife Mina followed in 1965 at the age of 82. They are buried on their beloved Road Run in the Posey Cemetery.

Genealogy Note:
Daniel Floyd Posey was born in 1880, the son of John Fountain Posey and Emmorella M. Cosner Posey. Daniel Floyd Posey married Mina B. Conrad was born in 1883, the daughter of John B. Conrad and Mary Jane (Riffle) Conrad of Riffle Run. She was a sister of Dr. Ord Conrad.

John Fountain Posey, known as J. F. Posey, was born in 1857. He died in 1934. He was married three times, first to Emmorella Cosner, who died in 1900, second to Lucy H. Skinner who died in 1927, and third to Laura May Gillespie, who survived him.

Daniel Floyd Posey and his wife Mina Conrad Posey had four children, two sons Clifford and Clinton, and two daughters, Mary who married Okey Strader, and Mae who married Linzy Strader.
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Flukey's dad, John Fontaine Posey, is third from the right in this photo of Alfred and Christina Posey's kids. (From lt ot rt, Amanda (Posey) Heater, Mary Posey Knight, Andrew Newton “Ruddle Posey”, Edward A.Posey, John Fontaine Posey, George Jackson Posey, Alfred Jerome Posey.)




Footnotes
1. For more on Bill Barnett's poultry processing business see the March '07 entry Fowl Business in Orlando
2. For more on Helen Jeffries, see the Jan '07 entry Helen Frame's Story

3. For more about Ernest Roy "Heater-Huck" Henline see the Dec '06 entry My Great-Uncle Heater Henline

Comments
comment 1 from Darrell Groves' Family Tree:
"The following was taken from Minerva Hopkins' small scrapbook:
SCHOOL REPORT
Report of the Oil Creek school for the first month, ending January 13th, 1892.
Number of pupils enrolled, 54;
average daily attendance 40;
per cent of attendance, 80 1/2.
The following pupils were neither absent nor tardy: Rowzina Posey, Sarah E. Posey, Adetha Posey, Abraham Posey, Marshal Posey, Floyd Posey, Wayne L. Posey, G. C. Posey, Oley W. Posey, and Willie Bee.
W. Lee Armstrong, Teacher

comment 2 from Homer Heater, Jr.
David Parmer:
What a delightful writer you are. I thoroughly enjoy your articles. Writing about Flukey Posey you mentioned the Riffle brothers, Hays and Hayward. These men were my Dad’s cousins. I attended the Mt Olive ME church (along old route 5 on the way to Napier) until the adults would fall out and close it down. Then I would go to the EUB church along the river 3 miles from Burnsville. There Hays and Hayward would lead the singing out of the Stamps Baxter song books with shaped notes. Hayward taught our boys’ SS class, often with tears in his eyes. When I asked him what “beget” meant, he stammered out a definition that I don’t remember. I will always have fond memories of them.
Homer
Homer Heater, Jr.
President Emeritus
Washington Bible College/Capital Bible Seminary

Margurite Sweeney's Immigrant Great-Grandma

Margurite Sweeney came to Orlando in 1931 as the bride of Mike Moran. 1 She was from the well established Catholic community of Irish and Germans who had settled north and west of Orlando in Lewis, Gilmer and Doddridge counties.2

Margurite's 2nd cousin once removed, Trudy Ware, shares stories about their several-great grandmother, the immigrant Margaret Dorey3, and her husband John Hushion.

Left: Margurite Sweeney as a young girl.

During the potato famine the Dooreys/Doreys came to America from County Galway: Peter and Mary Dorey and their children Peter, Mary, Michael and Margaret. They settled in Fink, Doddridge County WV, next farm over from the Hushions, another newly immigrated family.

Map of Ireland has County Galway highlighted.

Margaret, who was called Norah, married the boy next door, young John Hushion, around 1849. John and Margaret had six children4 in their short time together. John went with other Lewis County men to look for work around 1860 in the Parkersburg area, according to old family story. He traveled on a small boat and forgot to take his luggage off the boat. Not realizing the boat had pulled away from the dock, he stepped too near the edge and was swept into the river. He drowned and his body was never recovered.

Some years later, Margaret/Norah married a Conroy. By him she had three more children: Ella (Conroy) Eagen, Agnes (Conroy) Tierney, and Tom Conroy.

Trudy Ware's grandmother, Gertrude (Maybury) Aman, remembered her own grandma, Norah Dorey, well. She told Trudy that all the Maybury cousins called Norah Dorey "Little Grandma" and remembered that Little Grandma loved to smoke her clay pipe. The "Little Grandma" moved in with her son John and stayed with him until her death in early 1900's. She was buried at Fink, WV.

Footnotes
1. More on Mike and Margurite (Sweeney) Moran can be fount in the Feb '07 entry Michael Vincent Moran – Gentleman Undertaker.

2. In the first half of the 1800s the Irish potato famine immigrants and Catholic German immigrants blended into a community in central West Virginia. A far-southern edge of this community was the mission church of St. Michael. This community included the Griffin, Moran, Feeney, Tulley, Dolan, Greene, Sweeney and Carney familys, among others. The Roman Catholic mission church of St. Michael defined this most southern edge of the community. St Michael 's original building had been located on the Griffin farm near Fleshers Run, but in the early 1900s the St. Michael community moved to a new building in downtown Orlando. For more on St Michael Church see the May '07 entry St Michael's Church

The other group that made up Orlando, called the "colonials" by one of the priests of the time, descended from the origial settlers of the Oil Creek watershed. This group included the Riffle, Blake, Skinner, Posey, Heater and Williams families, among others. "Colonials" is probably not a bad name for them, as their families had immigrated to the colonies before the Revolutionary War. This group was overwhelmingly Wesleyan Protestant: Methodist Episcopal, Methodist Protestant, United Brethren. The members of Orlando's mission of Reformed Latter Day Saints were the only members of the "colonials" that were not Wesleyan.

For a period of about a century these communities lived and worked side by side in Orlando but remained distinct, with separate beliefs, separate cemeteries, separate heritages and rarely did their children intermarry.

3. Norah Dorey was the distaff immigrant ancestor for both Margurite (Sweeney) Moran and our reporter, Trudy (Shearer) Ware. By "distaff" I mean she's their mother's mother's mother's... etc...mother: 1) Norah's daughter Katherine married James Faulkner and their daughter Mary married John Charles Sweeney. Their daughter was Margurite (Sweeney) Moran. 2) Norah's daughter Bridget married John Thomas Maybury and thier daughter Gertrude married Samuel Aman and their daughter Marie married a gentleman named Shearer and Trudy (Shearer) Ware is their daughter.


4. The six children of Margaret/Norah Dorey and John Hushion are:
. . . . John who married Mary Cullen
. . . . Mike who never married
. . . . Honora who married Jim Tierney
. . . . Mary who married Martin Birmingham
. . . . Katherine who married James Faulkner
. . . . Bridget who married John Thomas Maybury.

Doc Ordy Conrad, Veterinarian and Story Teller

by David Parmer

In the evening, after the final meal was finished and the quiet time had come, Doc Ordy would take his favorite seat by the fireplace in the small cottage near the mouth of Road Run, with grandchildren gathered around, and his wife Effie half-listening, and start telling his stories. Once, Doc Ordy was called to look after an animal late on a winter evening, too far from home, and too cold to start for home. The farmer told Doc that he should stay the night, an invitation he gladly accepted and the farmer showed him to his bed for the night. These were the days before electricity in the hollows around Orlando. To be prepared for the dark, Doc Ordy always traveled with a lantern to light the way home. When he spent the night at a farmer’s home, Doc always took his lantern inside so he could see when he arose early to either check on the sick animal, or to start out for home. This night, as usual, he had his lantern with him when he got into the comfortable looking bed which was to be his resting spot for the night. After rooting into the straw tick bedding, and closing his eyes Doc started drifting off to sleep, but began sensing he was not alone in the bed. As he lay still, he could feel unwanted movement all over his body. Doc reached for his lantern and safety matches and quickly had light to unveil the problem. Bedbugs! Hundreds of bedbugs scattered for cover from the glare of the lantern. Thinking for a moment, Doc pulled his large pocket knife from his trousers pocket and jammed it into the wooden headboard of the bed. He hung his lit lantern on his knife handle to provide a constant light and irritant to the bed bugs and he fell asleep soundly until the next morning. His grandchildren loved his teeth-grinding stories, and Doc Ordy loved to tell them.

Ord Conrad was born in 1881 and grew up on Riffle Run, the son of John B. and Mary Ann (Riffle) Conrad. Ord’s paternal grandfather was also named John B. Conrad. He was a brother of Phoebe (Conrad) Skinner, wife of Alexander Skinner of Orlando. Ord’s maternal grandfather was Jacob Isaac Riffle, one of the original settlers of Clover Fork.

By the way the crow flies, Riffle Run is a very short distance from Orlando. The usual route to Riffle Run from Orlando was either to go up to the head of Road Run and then over the hill to the head of Riffle Run, or go up Clover Fork to the first branch on the right, go to its head and over the hill to Riffle Run. By either route, it was but a short distance to Riffle Run from Orlando, and there was much contact between the two places. Ord Conrad had lived in both Orlando and on Riffle Run and felt quite at home in either place.

Mina Strader and her brother Richard Strader, grandchildren of Ord’s sister Mina, tell us that their Uncle Ord learned his veterinary skills from his father John B. Conrad and his grandfather John B. Conrad, both of whom had worked with animals during their lifetimes. Ord Conrad started early in life, perhaps at 16 or 17, according to Richard Strader, working with animals by learning the art of castration or "cutting" animals. In those early times, there were no licensing requirements to become an animal doctor. If you could show proficiency in the task in treating sick animals you became known as "Doc" and were called upon to practice the craft. Subsequently when West Virginia instituted licensing and formal schooling of veterinarians, the already practicing veterinarians were "grandfathered in", and simply had to take and pass a written test1. The veteran Doc Ordy had no trouble in passing the written test and became "official" in the eyes of the State.

At the e top, left, is Ord with his horse Rex.
Immediately to the right and at the bottom left are photos of Effie and Ord.

Dixie McCauley, Ord’s grandson, of Mason , West Virginia, doubts that his grandfather had any more than an eighth grade education and probably not even that much. This was not unusual for rural West Virginia before the turn of the 20th century when little weight was given to more than just rudimentary book learning. As was the custom of the time, skills were generally learned on the job, which was as good way to learn as any other way.

Dale Barnett’s father, Bill Barnett of Orlando, was a livestock farmer and owned several sheep, cows, and horses. From time to time a sheep or larger animal became sick or off its feed and the services of Dr. Ordy were called upon. Dale recalls that Doc was always prompt to answer a call for help. Dale recalls a "spring tonic" for horses that Doc would bring on his calls which reportedly had arsenic as one of the ingredients. Dale recalls that this tonic would be mixed with a little bran in a short necked beer bottle. The out-of-sorts horse would be dosed with the mixture and immediately would "pick right up" and eat everything in sight. One common digestive malady of animals was referred to by Doc as "compaction" or "blockage of the bowels" which seemed to always call for a "good dose of salts." Dale recalls that Doc was fairly successful in treating sick livestock.

Lane Conrad of Martinez , Georgia , Doc’s grandson, recalls that his grandfather would treat a hoof ailment of large animals known as "foot evil". This condition called for dousing a burlap cloth in turpentine and cleaning the animals hooves thoroughly, crevices and all. Lane also recalls that his grandfather would advertise where he would be on certain days and that he would provide rabies shots to neighborhood dogs. In the early 20th century it was common for every farmer to have a number of dogs, not only for bringing in the sheep or cattle but also for chasing the foxes, coons, rabbits, and groundhogs. Doc was prepared to treat dogs as well as the larger beasts.

Bertha Conrad Ratcliff of Stouts Mill, daughter of Doc’s sister Ann, recalls that Doc treated many a cow for "milk fever". According to Bertha, cows develop a fever when a calf takes too much milk from its mother, causing the milk sack to collapse. Bertha believes her uncle Doc Ordy never lost a cow to the "milk fever." Bertha also recalls her uncle carrying with him a black hose which was used to stick into a cow’s throat to dislodge apples which may be stuck there. This hose also was used to "drench" a cow or horse or other animal when it was necessary to give the animal a "tonic". Bertha thought the tonic was a "drenkstum", based upon her recollection as to what uncle Doc told her he was going to do to the animal. Probably what Doc actually said was that he was going to "drench ‘um’ ".

Bertha (Conrad) Ratcliff or Mina (Strader) Luzader, Doc’s nieces, would often be called upon from time to time to stay all night with their Aunt Effie whenever Doc was called out late at night and would not return that night. They both adored their Aunt Effie and were always glad to be called upon to keep her company. And, they also got to help their Aunt Effie can tomatoes, green beans and other garden produce. Bertha recalls that the overnight stays would often be the result of when Doc was treating an animal for the "colic" which Bertha indicated called for a constant walking of the animal throughout the night.

One animal Doc was not fond of was a male hog. Doc’s granddaughter, Delores (McCauley) Hutzel, recalls Doc telling her that boars were generally mean and would attack without warning. Doc said that great care should be taken dealing with this animal and to never turn your back on it. Delores recalls going on a call with her grandfather on one occasion and being chased by a vicious hog. She said her grandfather got a good laugh watching her run for the fence.

To the right is Ord & Effie's family. Front row: Everett (killed during WW II), Effie and Ord, Minnie (McCauley), Ercie (Barrett). Back row: Ray, Dale, Ern, Earl, and Emmett.

Lane Conrad recalls that Doc had a sorrel horse with a white blaze which he rode on many of his veterinary visits. He believed that Doc called this horse "Fred". However, Lane’s cousin, Delores McCauley Hutzel, recalls the name of the horse to be "Rex". Richard Strader, Doc’s nephew, a little older than Lane and Delores, resolved the factual dispute by telling us that in his memory Doc had three horses, "Rex", "Bob", and "Fred".

Mina (Strader) Luzader also reports on her Uncle Ord’s keen eyesight. Once Mina was driving her boy friend’s (later to be her husband) car on the old Roanoke road when who should she meet coming the other way but her Uncle Doc. Of course Mina did not have a driver’s license or learner’s permit at the time. By the time she returned home, Mina’s mother was aware that she had been doing a little unauthorized practice driving.

As to what Doc Ordy would charge for a visit to a farmer to treat an animal, Mina Strader Luzader tells us that Doc adjusted his fee according to the circumstances of the farmer. Although his usual fee was a real bargain as far as veterinarians go, if a farmer could not afford to pay but a pittance, that was what Doc charged.

Mina also recalls that her Uncle Doc was a very clean and neat person who would often wear two pairs of trousers and a working coat out on a call. As we know, working in barns can be a dirty proposition. Doc would wear the second pair of trousers so that he could take the dirty pair off before going into the farmer’s house. Doc would also go to the creek to wash his dirty boots.

Mina remembers that her brother Richard Strader and Doc went on a call to a farmer’s home on one occasion and was asked to stay for a meal. Seeing that the house was full of dogs and cats which had free roam of the house and dining table, Doc thanked the farmer and said they were in a hurry to see another person about a sick animal and would have to take a rain check. And, speaking of eating, Mina recalls a peculiar breakfast meal which her uncle Ord enjoyed: oatmeal with Oreo cookies! Now there’s a way to start a day!

Richard Strader relates that his uncle went far and wide to treat sick animals. He recalls one trip he made with his uncle that required driving the truck to Green Hill, east of Falls Mill, where they were met by the farmer with horse and wagon. They finally got to the farmer’s sick animal on his farm near the present Braxton County airport. Doc regularly went to places like Rocky Fork, Indian Fork, Knawl, Sand Fork, Copen and many other remote areas of Braxton, Lewis and Gilmer Counties.

As an integral part of dealing with animals, it is obviously necessary to restrain them. Doc reportedly was an expert in lassoing animals and tying them up so they could be treated. Doc carried his lasso on his horse along with his saddle bags full of equipment and tonics for the animals he treated. The potions and tonics carried by Doc were contained in brown bottles of every description. The basement of Doc’s last residence on the river above Burnsville at the time of his death was full of liquids in large brown bottles. The smaller brown dosing bottles were also in plentiful supply. Of course no one but Doc knew what was in the bottles and his pharmaceutical supply was carefully disposed after his death.

Although not a medical doctor, Doc Ordy from time to time was called upon to treat ailments within the family. Doc’s granddaughter, Delores, recalls that whenever she or her siblings would take ill, her grandfather would be called upon the make the diagnosis and administer the treatment. These ministrations were never without success. Delores also relates that prior to the requirement of embalming, her grandfather was also called upon to prepare corpses for burial from time to time. This line of work was good grist for late at night stories and led to many a spine tingling tale which he loved to tell.

It is further reported that Doc Ordy was a fan of the country music Carter family and owned every record that the family put out. Doc was also an avid reader and a good writer. He had a remarkable memory for family histories and could recite a person’s lineage without difficulty.
There came a time when Doc retired his horses which he had used for years as his primary means of transportation. Of course in the early years, horses were the most reliable means of transportation in the hills and hollows in the area of his work. Paved roads were unheard of in those times, and trails up hollows or paths over ridges were the norm. In his later years, Doc acceded to "modern times" and bought a green Chevrolet pick up truck. Of course driving a truck was not as easy as steering a horse. According to his daughter-in-law, Mrs. Ray Conrad, Doc did not have a very good reputation as a driver. Instead Doc seemed to "herd" his pickup truck and "everyone knew to keep out of his way". Mina Strader Luzader relates that Doc Ordy got his drivers license by sending a form and twenty five cents to the State of West Virginia. No driving test was required.

Despite any difficulties he may have had in operating a vehicle, it cannot however be said that Doc was not nimble with his fingers. Apparently, Doc favored the "old style" and ate with a knife rather than a fork. His daughter-in-law, Mrs. Ray Conrad, recalls that he was very adept at eating peas, or any other small vegetables with a knife.

Few farmers who owned livestock around Orlando in the early days could do without a vet to keep the animals healthy, or to treat the injured. Doc Ordy was one of the few veterinarians available to assist in this regard, and proved to be successful and reliable to his neighbors in their need.

Doc died in 1960 and was buried in the hilltop cemetery at Olive Chapel Church above Burnsville . He was survived by his wife Effie, his sons Ern, Dale, Ray, Emmett and Earl and his daughters Ercie and Minnie. Effie passed away in 1971.

1. The State of West Virginia instituted a requirement that veterinarians be licensed in 1915. There was a provision in the newly enacted law that veterinarians who had been practicing for at least two years prior to the new law could continue to practice veterinary medicine by registering and providing an affidavit of his previous experience.

Comments
comment 1 Dale Barnett
When Doc Ordy was listening to someone he had a peculiar mannerism of throwing his head back and squinting at the speaker with one eye.

Dale Barnett (pictured to the right) grew up in Orlando in the 1940s and 50s. He is a retired teacher. His remembrances are part of several entries. For example, see the Feb '07
entry A History of Orlando


comment 2 Homer Heater, Jr.
What a delightful story of Doc Ordy. I remember him when I was a child on Riffle Run. Where it came from I don’t know, but we used to have a ditty that said,
Hi O Silver everywhere Effie lost her underwear
Effie said, I don’t care, Ordy’ll buy me a streamlined pair
Thanks for the memories.
Homer

Note: The Rev. Dr. Homer Heater, Jr. who grew up on Riffle Run, is President Emeritus, Washington Bible College/Capital Bible Seminary and Professor of Old Testament, Capital Bible Seminary. See his wonderful Riffle Run memoirs at http://www.geocities.com/hheater2000/RiffleRun.html

comment 3: Bill Beckner
I remember old Ord's favorite fix for animals was molasses. Our cow foundered herself on apples. Grandpap had Ord come to take a look and sure enough, he said to feed the cow molasses.

O.M. Stutler Came To Work

Ovie Merlin Stutler moved from southern Harrison County in the 1870s.1 By 1880 he was boarding with Andrew Jackson and Ora (Riffle) Heater in Orlando. O. M. worked as a lumberman. The censuses for the 1880s and further forward reveal a steady smattering of young men boarders with names unfamiliar to the Oil Creek watershed as many, just like O. M., came to the area seeking employment in lumbering, road and railroad construction, gas and oil well drilling. (See the notes on Orlando Migrations at the end of this entry.)

O.M. had a son with Ora's younger sister Ennie when Ennie was 16 and O.M. was 20. They named the boy Oras Lenord. For a while Ennie and their son Oras lived with her folks, John Scott and Marianne (Skinner) Riffle. On December 20, 1900, when Oras was four years old, Ovie and Ennie married. They set up housekeeping on Oil Creek and had five more children that lived to adulthood, Mary, "Jack," Frank, Ebe and "Mutt." They also lost one or two children who died very early.
.
Left: Ovie Merlin: "a man out standing in his field".
Right, above: Ora and Andrew Heater.
Right, below, Ovie and Ennie and, we think, son Frank at an unidentified location.

By all indications this was not a particularly happy or successful household. O.M. and Ennie never had any noticeable financial success. Judging from their sons' behavior, O.M. was physically abusive and alcohol probably played a significant role in that.

Piecing together information from land records with the bits that we children overheard, an unflattering family portrait emerges. For example, Ennie wanted to move to town, to Weston. She sold her land2 for a small fraction of its value to the area's land mongers, the Camdens. Their son Oras with his young family lived on that property, too, and had paid a lot of the debt on it. The land records show a few months after his mother sold the property Oras repurchased it for several times its sale price.

But the kids grew up. The oldest, Oras Lenord, b. 2 Aug 1896 stayed in Orlando. As a young man Oras was a hell raiser. However, he went to work for Hope Gas Company and worked for that company his whole life. (See the Nov '06 entry
Orlando Man Drills Large Well for more on Oras' work.) He married a local girl, 2nd cousin Edith Della Skinner. Oras went to France to fight in World War I shortly before the war ended. Like most Orlando folks at that time, he and Edith also maintained a small farm that mostly just supplied the family’s food: hogs, chickens, milk cow(s) corn and other feed and a vegetable garden. They raised five healthy, successful kids.

The second child, John Scott "Jack" b. 13 May 1905 moved to Detroit and worked at the racetrack. He married a couple times in Detroit, but had no children.

Mary Ethel b. 13 Nov. 1901 married Leo Moran of Weston and they lived in Fairmont, WV.

Ebert b. 16 Apr 1909 married Ruth Henlein and they had two daughters, Betty and Carolyn.

Frank b. 5 Apr 1911 married Evelyn Gay, daughter of Noah M. and Rose (Atkinson) Gay and they had a boy, Frank and a daughter, Joyce. Young Frank was killed in an auto accident.

O.M.’s namesake, Ovie Merlin, Jr., b. 18 Dec. 1913, nicknamed "Mutt", married a Maryland girl, Anita Boswell and they had a son, Jerry. Then Mutt fought in World War II. It took its toll on him. His wife knew he came back a different man than he was when he left. Still, he was a good man and they settled in White Sulfur Springs.

Right: with all their children, Ovie and Ennie are in the center. back row, l to r, Jack and Theresa, Leo and Mary, Oras and Edith. Front row: Anita and Mutt, Frank and Evelyn, Ebe and Ruth.


Stutler Ancestors
Ovie Merlin's Stutler line can be traced to Switzerland by DNA testing. The Stutlers' immigrant ancestor was probably the father of Revolutionary War Veteran and pioneer John Stutler.

John Stutler married young Sarah Hughes in 1784 at the frontier fort at West Milford in Harrison County. This was when the pioneers were fighting the Indians and clearing virgin forests. Sarah was a cousin of Jessie Hughes, the Indian fighter. Through Sarah O.M.'s ancestors knew George Washington who, as a very young man, surveyed the Hughes lands on the Great Cacapon River in the WV eastern panhandle.

The sketch was made by Diss Debar under the direction of a man who who knew Thomas Hughes. We have no likenesses of O.M.'s 3g-grandfather Hugh Hughes, 1715-1763, but Thomas was his brother. Also, Thomas was the father of Jesse Hughes, Indian fighter who lived for a time at the source of the Little Kanawha River.

Through Ovie's great grandmother Abigail Jackson one branch of his family can be traced back to Boston's earliest settlers, the Winthrops, and another branch goes back to Britain's Plantagenet rulers and the royal families of Europe.

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NOTE ABOUT MIGRATIONS INTO THE COMMUNITY

1. In the early years of the community that would become Orlando the small population was pretty stable. For the most part, new blood came into the community in three waves. The first settlers are discussed in the Nov. '06 entry First Settlers. They married among themselves and they married kids who lived "just over the hill" from the Oil Creek watershed, on Fleshers Run, Sand Fork, and Riffle Run and such.

2. The Irish Catholics are discussed in a note at the end of the March '07 entry, Margurite Sweeney's Immigrant Great-Grandma. While none settled in the Oil Creek watershed, a few Irish Catholic immigrants were among the early, the pre-Civil War, settlers nearby, including the Griffins on Flesher's Run, just over the hill from Clover Fork. The wave of Irish Catholics into the Orlando area came with the children of early settlers in the northern part of the state, Clarksburg and Weston areas.

3. A third large influx came into the Oil Creek watershed with the railroad construction, lumbering, then the search for natural gas and oil. These were workers who came into the area for the purpose of working. They married into the community of original settlers and settled in. William Beckner was one of these. He married Josie Riffle. Virgina McCoy came to Orlando to teach school and married Glenn Skinner, grandson of Skinners, Blakes, Bennetts and Conrads. Ovie Merlin Stutler who married Ennie Riffle was another of those who came to Orlando to work and married into the community and stayed.

Footnotes
1. This information has been pieced together from the 1890 census, marriage and death certificates.

2. All property was held solely by Ennie; O.M.'s name doesn't appear on any purchase or sales documents.

The Depression Hits Buzzardtown

by David Parmer
Buzzardtown was feeling the effects of the Great Depression in 1936. The country overwhelmingly elected Democrats to office in 1932 on their promise to end the hard times but four years into Franklin Roosevelt’s first term found Buzzardtown worse off than before. There was no end in sight for the national blight. Fathers of families were hoboing around the country looking for a chance. School enrollments plummeted as young men enrolled in CCC programs and others left to try to find work. Farmers could not pay their property taxes, let alone mortgage payments. Foreclosures were at an all time high. People were having a tough time finding enough to eat.

Uncle Zeke put to verse a description of the hard times in the Buzzardtown community.

Nineteen hundred and thirty six
Found Buzzardtown in a heck of a fix –
Grafton Riffle just had one penny,
And Bill Beckner didn’t have any.
Mrs. Sharp was all in a splutter,
For she only had a spoonful of butter;
C. H. Chrislip had one bite of meat,
And Uncle Zeke had nothing to eat.
It took Joe Jeffries about one hour
To hunt up a spoonful or two of flour;
Wade Mick had a piece of a cracker,
And A. C. Sharp one chew of tobacker.
Early Riffle put out the word
He only had a ham of a bird;
I hope we’ll all have nothing to fear,
And plenty to eat throughout the year.

"Buzzardtown" was the name weekly columnist Patrick Newton Blake (AKA Uncle Zeke) gave fondly to his community around Oil Creek and Posey Run. For more on Uncle Zeke see the Oct. '06 entry, Uncle Zeke From Buzzard Town

. . . . . . .

Why Buzzardtown?

P.N. Blake, who styled himself "Uncle Zeke," called his neighborhood Buzzardtown. Generally he spoke of his immediate neighborhood in the Oil Creek/Posey Run/Road Run area when referred to Buzzardtown. But why Buzzardtown? There's a lot less road kill along Oil Creek than along busier back roads. There are no large roosting areas for vultures that would make them noticable in the area.

Bill Beckner recently figured out where the old guy got the name. Bill noticed the sky over the juction of the creek & runs is a popular spot for raptors riding the thermals. On a sunny day from March through November you'll probably see actual buzzards, like the turkey vulture to the left, riding the thermals over the waterways but you'll probably see other raptors as well: hawks, falcons, maybe an eagle!

For more from Bill Beckner see

the Sept '06 entry Red & Josie Beckner

the Nov '06 entry Sweet Potatoes

Young Hobos Called to Account in Buzzardtown

by David Parmer

Uncle Zeke wrote this story in June 1935:
“On Thursday of last week three boys claiming their homes, one at Richwood and two at Cowen, landed in town on a freight train, and after loitering around for awhile broke into O. L. Stutler’s cellar while the family was absent and helped themselves to some milk and strawberries. The boys were still around when Mrs. Stutler came home and found that some one had been in the cellar. She called the boys to account and at first they bitterly denied the charge, but after Mrs. Stutler’s ire arose and she placed her fist under their noses and told them a few things in plain English, the boys confessed to the crime. The boys got a light lunch at the home of the writer while waiting for a Grafton train and offered to work in the garden to pay for it. Two of the boys who claimed their home at Cowen said they were eighteen years old; the other from Richwood claimed to be twenty-one. After receiving some real motherly advise from the writer’s wife,1. they started to the watertank to catch a freight to Grafton.”

To see the route the boys were taking, click on the map to enlarge it. The bottom dot is Richwood, where the first boy jumped on, the next dot north is where the boys from Cowen jumped on. The third dot up the line is Orlando and the line ends at the top dot, Grafton.

Buzzardtown was the name Uncle Zeke gave fondly to his community around Oil Creek and Posey Run. For more on Uncle Zeke, see the Oct. '06 entry, Uncle Zeke From Buzzard Town

1. "The writer's wife" was Lorena (Godfrey) Blake, 1869-1953.


Comments
comment 1. Donna Gloff
Mr. and Mrs. O.L. Stutler were my grandparents, Oras and Edith (Skinner) Stutler. To the right is Edith with her youngest two children, Bill and Jane. about the time of the incident. Their house was one of those right next to the train tracks. This probably wasn't the first time hobos had dropped off the box cars in search of something they needed. It must have been a scarey thing to not know when someone would drop off a train and steal something from you.

comment 2. Donna Gloff
"Riding the rails" wasn't a new thing with the Depression. See the Feb '07 entry Death Rides the Rails for the story of a couple local boys who tried it during the "roaring 20's".)

Right: Donna Gloff, granddaughter of Oras & Edith Stutler, lives in Michgian & edits this 'blog.

Mandy Conrad – The Maple Sugar Candy Lady

by David Parmer

As the Baltimore and Ohio and Coal and Coke passenger trains screeched to a stop at the Orlando depot for about an hour’s layover so passengers could change trains and for a luggage transfer, a plaintive cry greeted the train travelers, "Maple sugar candy, please buy some maple sugar candy". A small, thin, wispy haired woman in a simple, home- made dress, wearing scuffed, well-worn shoes repeated her melancholy appeal in a high pitched voice to the hopefully hungry passengers, "Please buy some maple sugar candy."
A home-made basket, a tea towel covering the contents, hung from the arm of the lady as she moved slowly from one traveler to another, offering her nickel pieces of maple sugar candy for sale. Some passengers accepted the offer, perhaps more from pity than from an urge for sweet treats. Dropping her nickel into her dress pocket after a sale, Mandy continued to move unobtrusively among the throng, taking care to stay out of the way of uninterested travelers, hoping to earn a few coins from more willing passengers.

Above, to the left, is a generic photo of maple sugar candy.
To the right, Mandy's home is circled.

As the passenger train moved slowly out the Orlando station, Mandy Conrad left the depot as quietly as she had come, returning to her home, formerly owned by the Oldakers, on the bank above the Clover Fork Road, a short distance away.

Mandy Conrad, whose given name was Amanda, was born in 1874, the daughter of Steward L. Riffle and Abigail Blake Riffle. Her father, Steward, whose name was sometimes spelled Stewart, was his wife Abigail’s cousin. His father was a Riffle, his mother a Blake; her father was a Blake, and her mother a Riffle. On Clover Fork in the mid 1800s, most all of the families were either Blakes or Riffles, each very large families; therefore, there was little chance of marrying someone of a different last name.

Mandy married Ervin Conrad, the son of John B. Conrad and Mary Ann Riffle Conrad. Mary Ann’s father was Benjamin Riffle, the son of Jacob I. and Francena (Blake) Riffle, both of whom were also closely related to Mandy’s parents. Mandy’s marriage to Ervin resulted in a further narrowing of the gene pool, and as a result affected their offspring. Mandy’s first child, a daughter, Forest Gladys was born blind and died in 1925 at age 25, Bill Stokes, a son, died in 1931 at age 27, Carl Ray, was born blind and deformed and died at aged 24 in 1936. Mandy’s son, Opha, was born in 1907. Unfortunately, "Oph", as he was called, was also born deformed and with a grave mental deficiency. Mandy’s youngest son, Cary, born in 1909, was also born deformed and with an equally significant mental impairment. None of these children would ever live to be anything other than a child, nor able to speak, walk, stand, or sit unassisted.

In the days of Mandy’s generation, there was little in the way of social services to assist with severely mentally handicapped and physically deformed children. It would be Mandy’s responsibility to care of her children as long as she could do so. Of course, there was an alternative available to Mandy. Weston State Hospital , the state hospital for the insane, was available to house children like Mandy’s afflicted offspring. Mandy, however, sold her maple sugar candy, earning nickels, to help keep her children at home.

In 1915, Mandy gave birth to her final child, Exie, who was born normal in all respects. Exie lived a normal childhood in Orlando, attended school in Orlando and high school in Burnsville, and did well, had friends, and although poor as many other people in Orlando were, made the most of her situation.

Not long after Exie’s birth, Ervin Conrad, Mandy’s husband, left their home, leaving Mandy with the sole responsibility to care for the handicapped children, as well as young Exie.

Over the ensuing years, Mandy became a regular fixture on the depot platform in Orlando selling her maple sugar candy. Regular train passengers through Orlando became used to seeing Mandy and bought her maple sugar candy. When sap wasn’t flowing from the maple trees, Charlie Knight gave Mandy refined sugar and maple flavoring, to make an artificial maple sugar candy to sell to the train passengers. Mandy did the best she could in candy making to provide a meager living for her family.

When the passenger train traffic in Orlando dwindled in the 1930s, so did Mandy’s ability to earn enough to keep her family together. As both Mandy and her sons became older it was even more difficult to keep her family together. She had to make the difficult decision to have her sons placed in Weston State Hospital. To be close to her sons, Mandy left Orlando and moved to Weston. Her younger son Cary died in the State Hospital in 1943, and the older child Oph died there in 1953.

Mandy preceded her son Oph in death in 1949 at the age of 75. The maple sugar candy lady and her children were buried in the Riffle Run Cemetery at Burnsville.

Lee Blake – Orlando Lumberman & Genealogist

Lee Washington Blake

Orlando Lumberman,

Genealogist and Reunion Organizer

by David Parmer

Lee Washington Blake was the first child of John Jackson and Ella Mae (Foster) Blake. Lee, who was born in 1883, was the grandson of Stewart and Lucinda (Posey) Blake. Stewart Blake was the son of the pioneers John and Abbey (Crysemore) Blake who came early to the Clover Fork valley. Lee’s grandmother, Lucinda (Posey) Blake, was the youngest child and daughter of the pioneers Edward Posey and Catherine (Scott) Skinner Posey who were among the first pioneers to the Oil Creek valley. The credentials of Lee Washington Blake as a son of Orlando were well engraved.

Lee's Early Years
According to Darrell Skinner, grandson of Lee Blake, Lee’s early education was about what you would expect of someone born in 1883 on Clover Fork. Lee was mostly educated at home but formal schooling ended after three years. For farmers toiling the soil, or lumbermen felling the huge and towering old growth timber in central West Virginia, three years of formal education seemed plenty.

Lee and his wife Civilia are pictured at the top, left.

As the oldest child in a family often does, Lee demonstrated early on an outstanding work ethic and an ability to get things done. Despite his lack of formal education, Lee seemed to have an innate ability to calculate and plan which would serve Lee in good stead later on in his business career.

Lee was still young when the West Virginia and Pittsburgh Railroad, the predecessor of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, began construction of its rail line down the Oil Creek valley in the early 1890s. He came to be familiar with the requirements of a railroad for supplies such as cross ties for track and timbers for bridges or trestles and auxiliary structures. When the Coal and Coke Railroad began surveying its line through the Clover Fork valley in the early 1900s, Lee was a young man with a vision to supplying the needs of the railroad, There seemed to be an endless demand for cross ties and building timbers by the railroads passing through Orlando. As well, there seemed to be an endless demand for building lumber for the houses and buildings springing up along the rail line. In addition, in the nearby town of Burnsville, several timber related businesses such as Gowing Veneering Company, Burns Lumber Company, a large planing mill, a wagon factory, and a large pole and beam plant created a large demand for saw logs. For a man of vision, willing to work hard, these historical circumstances were an opportunity.

The diagram to the right, above, demonstrates how to produce a railroad tie. In the photo to the left, a man is hewing a tie from felled lumber.

Lumbering Clover Fork
Although we are not sure when Lee Blake first engaged in the timbering business, Darrell Skinner, Lee’s grandson, advises that his mother Pearl (Blake) Skinner told him that her father was quite young when he started sawing timber on Clover Fork. When Lee first began supplying the railroads with cross ties the method of shaping the ties was by hand axe. This was hard and grueling work. Later, after the advent of more modern engines, Lee acquired a portable saw which he moved from one place to another and used to cut the ties to the conformed size. According to Dale Barnett, this portable saw blade was about 6 feet in diameter. At first, Lee used an old wood-fired steam boiler to furnish power for his mill but later adapted an old gasoline bus engine to power his mill.

To the right are two photos of the Clover Fork Hickory Mill at the time Lee was working this area.

In a column in October 1929, Uncle Zeke reported that Lee Blake had purchased timber on the J. B. Carder tract and moved his portable sawmill to that farm to commence cutting. After Lee finished cutting the Carder tract he moved his mill on to the W. B. Foster farm near Orlando. This was the method of Lee’s business. As soon as he was finished cutting timber on one tract, he had already purchased the timber on another tract and then moved on.

Dale Barnett recalls Lee’s older sons, Gilbert, Vayden, and Edward, helping their dad in the saw mill operations. Timbering was a hazardous occupation. Lee’s son, Gilbert was severely injured in 1930 while he and his brother Vayden were felling a 16 inch poplar tree which was being cut for pulpwood.

W. G. Blake also helped out some on the Lee’s saw mill operation, although W. G. was not that much help because of his mental limitations. W. G. Blake also helped Bee Heater at times in his well drilling business. W. G. ended his days at Weston State Hospital where reportedly he proudly served as “Captain of Dishwashing.”

To the left, above, is an example of the large sawblades that were used in lumbering

To the right is a pulpwood car being unloaded.

To the right, below, logs being transported out of Clover Fork.

In between his timber cutting jobs, the never-resting Lee built his home on Clover Fork in the 1930s from lumber salvaged from coal miner homes which Lee dismantled at Gilmer Station and trucked to Clover Fork. This home was later owned by Homer Mitchell. It has since been removed and replaced by a modern dwelling. Lee’s home was on the left side of the road going up Clover Fork. Lee’s barn and granary were across the road. Lee’s barn and granary were always rat-free. Lee’s grandson, Frank Blake, recalls his grandfather would often take gunny sacks on the hill when he was cutting timber and use the sacks for blacksnakes he would catch and release at his barn and granary. Rats are no match for blacksnakes.

The General Store
Lee also found time to operate a general store for a while on the eastern end of the Clover Fork railroad tunnel. This area of Clover Fork was early-on called “Blake” or “Slabtown”, and had a post office. It had also been a camp ground for the laborers who built the Coal and Coke Railroad line through Clover Fork.

Lee’s familiarity with construction equipment led to a few road construction contracts with the State Road Commission. Lee’s grandson David Blake recalls his grandfather speaking of working on the Oil Creek road to Burnsville which was chronically in a “hellish” way according to Uncle Zeke. David Blake, Lee’s grandson, tells us that fifty cents per day was the wage of the road laborer. This was a big wage during the Depression.

Dale Barnett, who lived on a farm adjoining Lee Blake, recalls one winter in the early 1930s that Lee cut an entire carload of railroad ties by hand axe when his portable saw was not in operation. Lee would refer to the trees used for cross ties as “tie trees”. These trees were generally oaks or other hardwoods of just the right size which involved little waste and which would satisfy the requirements of the railroad tie buyer.

While Lee was busy cutting cross ties, he often would hire others to move the ties to the Orlando depot to await shipment. In a February 1930 news column, Uncle Zeke reported that Wade Mick was hauling cross ties for Lee Blake. Lee also contracted with Roy M. “Boss” Riffle to haul pulpwood for him in late 1930 which was loaded by Lee in a boxcar and shipped from the Orlando depot siding. Cecil Skinner also contracted with Lee to skid logs off the hillside cutting area to the loading area in the bottoms. Over the years, Lee shipped many loads of pulpwood and sawn lumber from the Orlando Depot.

The Gristmill
After John Blake of Orlando gave up his grist milling business in the 1930s, Lee bought John’s equipment and old grist mill and set it up across the road from Lee’s home. Lee milled grain on Saturdays or any other day he had customers and when he wasn’t working in the woods. Dale Barnett recalls that this grist mill was powered by an old “hit and miss” gasoline engine.

Aside from the naturally dangerous occupation of being a timber man, Lee also found it risky to drive his truck on the muddy, rutted roads in the area. One day in 1933 coming back from Burnsville, Lee’s truck slipped over the hill near E. L. Posey’s on the Oil Creek Road at a narrow place and turned belly up in Oil Creek. Luckily, Lee’s injuries were not so bad.

The "School Bus"

Before the schools began providing bus transportation for rural students from the Orlando area to Burnsville High School, Lee took one set of wheels off his 1930s model dual-wheeled Chevrolet truck, rigged up a canvas top over the bed of the truck, and hauled school kids from Orlando to Burnsville. Lee was determined that his younger children would receive more education than he, or his older children had received, in order that their lives would be easier than that of a woodsman.

Lee’s youngest son Delis attended Orlando Grade School. Delis was one of the Orlando kids who rode to Burnsville High School in Lee’s canvass-topped Chevrolet truck. Delis graduated from Burnsville High School in 1938, attended Glenville State College and before World War II taught school at the Red Lick School, just up the road from his home place. Delis served in World War II as a naval officer and reached the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Helen (Frame) Jeffries, a classmate of Delis at Orlando School, remembers Delis as a “really nice, polite boy.” Lee’s daughter Phyllis graduated from Burnsville High School in 1944 and lived a successful life in the Washington , D. C. area.

High School photos of Dellis and Phyllis are above. To the right is "Ensign Dellis Blake with his sisters Phyllis and Mae."

Lee's Monograph

While Lee was laboring in the woods, he often thought about the effects that intermarriage among families was having on the children of those marriages. Although European royalty saw little harm from the marriage of cousins, Lee was outspoken against it. Lee would often inquire of his relatives who they had married, and who their parents were, and would jot those notes down on the backs of envelopes or other scrap paper. After he retired from his labors in the woods, Lee, who was essentially illiterate with little education, bought a portable typewriter, and with one finger with a rubber thimble, typed a history of the Blake and Riffle families who had done much intermarrying over the years. According to David Blake, Lee’s grandson, although there were some errors in this monograph, it nonetheless was fairly accurate in depicting marriages and the progeny resulting, with certain birth defects noted. Lee advocated strongly against the prevailing habit of close cousins marrying which was simply filling up beds at Weston State Hospital.

The Blake-Riffle Reunion
Another worthy accomplishment of Lee Blake during lifetime was the annual Blake-Riffle Reunion which Lee originated around 1933 or 1934. Lee’s grandson, David Blake of Weston, wrote an article in the Lewis County pictorial about this annual reunion which during its peak years lasted an entire weekend. The reunion when first held was located at the Clover Fork Methodist Church , near Pres Bragg’s former home on upper Clover Fork. Lee would use his one-fingered typing technique to send out hundreds of letters inviting Blakes, Riffles, and other friends to this reunion. Politicians from Gilmer, Braxton and Lewis Counties would come to mingle, backslap, shake hands and hopefully get a vote or two. Dale Barnett recalls speaking with Raymond Abbot of Parkersburg who attended the reunion in the early years and expressed amazement that his vehicle made it in and out of the muddy, rutted Clover Fork road in one piece. The reunion which is held the first Sunday of August, has declined in recent years somewhat in attendance and has been held lately at the home of the late Pearl Blake Skinner, daughter of Lee Blake, at her home on Clover Fork.

Above, right. five little girls, Bonnie Brown, Pearl Fleming (back middle), Canna Fleming (front middle) Margaret Bragg (back daughter of Preston Bragg), Blenda Brown (front), are all dressed up and ready for the 1949 Blake & Riffle Reunion. See the Jan '07 entry The Blake & Riffle Reunion.

Retirement
When his days as a timber man came to an end, Lee, crippled from his arduous labors of a lifetime moving heavy logs and lumber, moved to Weston. For a brief time prior to World War II and before his crippled condition worsened, Lee and his son Gilbert went to Baltimore and worked in the shipyards as welders. As his physical condition declined, Lee returned to Weston. Never one to rest, and despite being in a wheel chair, Lee opened a used furniture store on Main Street in Weston. Lee was also working on his Blake-Riffle genealogy monograph at this time and helping with the Blake-Riffle reunion. He had an inquiring mind until the end of his days. Lee’s grandson, Frank Blake, recalls that his grandfather urged him to bring his used college textbooks to him so he could glean a little book-learning from them in his waning years.

Lee always had a great interest in history. During his lifetime, Lee had acquired a large collection of photographs and old glass negatives of family and of the Orlando area. Seeking to preserve this important photographic history for posterity, Lee donated this valuable collection to West Virginia University with the idea that later generations could view the images of days gone by. Ironically, for some inexplicable reason, West Virginia University either sold or gave this significant collection to the University of Wisconsin, where for all practicable purposes it is outside the reach of local scholars for research.

Lee passed away quietly in Weston in 1957 and was laid to rest in the Blake family cemetery on Clover Fork.

Comments
Comment 1. Dale Barnett

Dale Barnett recollects that Lee Blake did some blacksmithing work on Clover Fork. He also built sleds which were useful in hauling logs off the hills which had been cut. Sleds had to be repaired frequently or rebuilt because of the heavy loads they hauled and the rough terrain they covered. Dale also recalls that Lee Blake was cutting a patch of timber on Posey Run and was using a steam boiler to power the saw. The steam boiler apparently developed too much pressure and exploded with a large bang.