The Home Vote

by Donna Gloff

As far back as Jackie (Witzgall) Holbrook can remember and into the 1960s, the Lewis County side of Orlando voted at her house. Jackie lived with her grandparents, Oras and Edith (Skinner) Stutler, in the former Dolan Hotel in downtown Orlando. On election day a flag would be posted on the front porch and to open the poles someone went out on the porch, rang a hand bell and said, "The polls are now open!"

To the right is Jackie in the 1950s, below the Stutler home in the 1960s.

Folks would file through the front door of the house and go down the hall to a large spare room on the right. There the Democrats would register with their poll person and the Republicans would register with their's. Then each voter would take a blank ballot and pencil into one of the voting stations, small, tall desks with canvas blinders on three sides.

Oras and Edith were Republicans. Jackie remembers helping grandpa check the Republicans in to vote.

When the poles closed the votes were counted in the formal living room in the front of the house and Grandma had to get the results into Weston right away. For most of those years Oras and Edith did not own a vehicle, so arrangements must have been made to get her into Weston.

See also the May '07 entry The Dolan House, When the Stutlers Lived There

To Hell With the Elephant

by Denver Barnett
as told to David Parmer
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Preacher Keller is pictured at the right.

Denver told me that when the 20th Amendment was passed granting suffrage to women, not many women, or perhaps none, in Orlando exercised the right during the 1920 election. Apparently it seemed unlady-like to vote so women stayed away from the polls. By 1924, Preacher Keller had arrived in Orlando. In the 1924 election, again no women in Orlando was interested in voting. By the time of the 1928 election, women were becoming more assertive and it appeared that there would be ladies casting their ballots. Preacher Keller, to put it mildly, was opposed to women's suffrage, almost as much as he was opposed to the Roman Catholic faith. Sensing that even in his own household, with quite a few daughters, and a wife starting to talk politics, Preacher Keller, a diehard Democrat, thought he should "educate" the women of his household how to vote a straight Democrat ticket, even though Al Smith, a Roman Catholic, was the Democrat nominee.

Preacher Keller got a sample ballot and had his daughters old enough to vote and his wife to sit in a circle while he instructed them on how to vote. He pointed out to them that to vote a straight Democrat ticket, all they had to do was to put an "X" in the circle with the Democrat rooster1 over it. Preacher Keller was standing so that he was obscuring the other side of the ballot, which was the Republican side, the side he didn't want the distaff side of his household to see. Apparently, Preacher Keller's wife, Theodosia, whom he called "Doscha," happened to see the Republican elephant symbol on the other side of the ballot and said innocently, "Emery, what does the elephant stand for ?" Preacher Keller lost his temper with his

wife and in an exasperated voice proclaimed "Hellfire and damnation, Doscha, I told you all you had to do was to put an "X" in the circle with the rooster; to hell with the elephant."

Denver Barnett is Alva Barnett's son. Alva was Bill Barnett's brother. Denver is a retired school teacher who lives in Pennsylvania. He is married to the former Rose Amos of Burnsville. Alva lived on the hill near the U.B. Church. Denver Barnett and his dad Alva Barnett is on the left.

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Footnotes

1. The Rooster was the symbol for the Democratic Party in a number of states in the early 1900s. In several states the Democrats use the rooster today.

Uncle Zeke Talks Politics

by David Parmer

In addition to being a poet, a thinker, a writer, a commentator on the length of women’s dresses and the amount of face paint women wore, and a scathing critic of the effects of alcohol on good men and women, Uncle Zeke was also an active pundit about political matters.

A Republican Works for a Democrat
It seems that Uncle Zeke, a fervent Republican, was never quite able to reconcile his politics and writing for the Braxton Democrat. In the 1920s and 1930s, a perusal of the news columns written by local people reveals that columnists must have been expected to include in their weekly columns suggestions to the readers that they subscribe to the local paper. Uncle Zeke was always encouraging readers to renew their subscriptions or to take a new subscription. The words “Subscribe to the Democrat” seemed to choke in Uncle Zeke’s Republican craw. It was bad enough for a Republican to be writing for the Braxton Democrat, but to urge people to subscribe to the Democrat amounted to a cardinal sin. But, nevertheless, Uncle Zeke mustered the courage, maybe while holding his nose, to tout the Democrat as the paper to read.

Straight Party Voting and the Lesser of Two Evils
Uncle Zeke, however staunch a Republican he was, also recognized that party labels sometimes should be meaningless when it comes to electing officials. Uncle Zeke was particularly critical of “straight party” voting whether it was Republican or Democrat. In a February 1928 column, Uncle Zeke wrote “I am a Republican because I believe in the principles of the party, granting other parties the same privilege, and yet I have never been so wrapped up in partyism that I couldn’t help a good man whose name appears on the ticket under the rooster.” Perhaps keeping a cautious eye on political candidates from both parties, Uncle Zeke also suggested that voters should carefully scrutinize politicians. “Let me say to one and all before casting your vote, read and carefully study each candidate as you would your Sunday school lesson and then as the Good Book tells us ‘of the two great evils, choose ye the lesser.’”
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To the right is P. N. Blake (Uncle Zeke), a Republican candidate for the West Virginia House of Delegates in 1924
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They Ain’t Fit to Run
With modern day voter turn-out at an all-time low, and public opinions polls of politicians reflecting rock-bottom unfavorable ratings, perhaps modern voters have considered Uncle Zeke’s admonition about the two great evils, and have decided that they are not worthy of a vote at all, rather than the lesser of the two. Or, as Uncle Zeke observed about some politicians, “Some people are just about as fit to hold office as a woodpecker is to preach the Gospel.” And although some straight party voters do it, many people refuse to vote for a woodpecker.

They Ain’t Fit to Vote
Uncle Zeke also had some disdain for some of the voting public. “Some people are so ignorant about politics that they couldn’t tell a grindstone from a headache tablet.” Uncle Zeke’s low opinion of some voters resulted from the reasons some voters had for favoring certain candidates. During the late 1920s, a young Charles Lindbergh gained fame for flying solo across the Atlantic Ocean , causing some people to suggest he would make a good president because of the feat. Uncle Zeke made light of the would-be political kingmakers, “Well, gee whiz ! Some people want Charles Lindbergh to run for president. Might as well run Charley Bill Williams.” Although this author is not certain, Charley Bill Williams was probably a resident of the Buzzardtown area.

The Wet – Dry Debate
The prohibition issue also weighed heavily upon Uncle Zeke’s political mind. “The first chapter and the first verse of the book of Uncle Zeke reads thusly: ‘Therefore be it wisely understood that no candidate aspiring for office, great or small, either Democrat or Republican, who stands on a wet platform secures my support, if I be wise to the situation.”
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Also in 1928, Uncle Zeke pondered, “ I wonder why the man in the moon didn’t announce for office. Well, if he gets full as often as the moon does, I wouldn’t vote for him.”
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Uncle Zeke also was never above making a joke about a political position. In a 1928 column, Uncle Zeke mused, “When politicians go into a home where there is a baby, they insist on holding it for a while, and never ask if it is wet or dry.”
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Uncle Zeke also wondered about the voter who didn’t know a polecat when he saw one. “How can a person be in favor of a wet candidate and claim to be in favor of prohibition, believe in the eighteenth amendment, pray for a dry nation and vote wet men knowingly into office?” Of course, in just a few short years when prohibition ended, Uncle Zeke became the odd man out with regard to his support for prohibition. He would have been the first to acknowledge that he was “old-fashioned” with regard to his view of morality but he would never accept the effects of alcohol as anything other than sinful.

The Farm Vote
Election years caused Uncle Zeke to tie politics in with conditions on the farm. In a 1928 column, Uncle Zeke observed, “Our old rooster had thought of running for sheriff until eggs dropped to twenty cents; and now he declares that rate can’t pay their capitation tax. So he chooseth not to run.” Further, Uncle Zeke told of “A county politician canvassing his district for votes, asked a farmer, ‘What’s the politics of this house?’ The farmer replied, ‘I’m a Republican, my wife is a Democrat, the baby is wet and the cow is dry.’”

My Wife Wooed the Parties
Social issues also brought out the political wit of Uncle Zeke. Uncle Zeke joked, “In a divorce court, Jones was suing his wife for divorce. She was hoping he’d get it. The judge asked Jones: ‘You say your wife only kissed two parties?’ Jones answered: ‘Only two, judge.’ The judge asked, ‘What two parties were they?’ Jones replied, ‘The Democrats and Republicans.’ He got the divorce.”

Let’s Get it Over With
Uncle Zeke also grew tired of the electioneering which occurred during election years. “I have met and shaken hands with so many candidates that my tongue is coated and corns are still coming on my toes. It seems that nothing but a shotgun or a bull dog will keep them away!” Uncle Zeke also wryly observed that “Now that the primary is over we ought to get better weather.” Uncle Zeke also noted that the end of the primary also caused “Handshaking [to be] at ease for a while.” Uncle Zeke surely thought, “So much for the “glad handers” until the general election. “
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Someone Has To Lose
Uncle Zeke was not without sympathy for the losers in political elections. He himself ran for the West Virginia House of Delegates in 1924. Zeke, a political novice, ran a good race, but lost to a more savvy political opponent who happened to be a Democrat in Braxton County which was awash with a Democrat majority. So, Uncle Zeke knew what it was like to lose an election. In the primary election of 1928, many candidates vied for their party’s nominations for various local, state and federal offices. Uncle Zeke noted that “Election day, as well as judgment day, will cause many sad hearts.” As the election of 1928 ended, the successful candidates took their respective offices, and the defeated candidates went home, Uncle Zeke opined that “Judging from the length of faces some people wore since the [election], you would naturally think they are made of elastic. We heard of one fellow whose face was so long he had to shave with a lawn mower.”

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And Up Salt River1 They Went
Uncle Zeke was fond of allusions to fable in his writings. With regard to defeated candidates in political races, he used the term “ Salt River ” to signify the place that defeated candidates go after elections. “I’ll bet there were more defeated candidates went up Salt River since the primary than at any time since the creation of the world.” And, amusingly, “I will say for the benefit of all defeated candidates that Dr. Polly Tick will be around Wednesday after the election to see whether you will be able for the Salt River excursion or not. Your permits will be awarded on election day. You will be at the mercy of Captain Defeat.” And to put the election results in verse, Uncle Zeke offered:

It matters not how the bleak wind blows,
To the White House Herbert Hoover goes.
Alfred Smith, for the White House bent,
But up Salt River he surely went.

Dr. Hatfield, tried and true,
Sends Neely up Salt River, too.
John Wolverton sends O’Brien afloat,
Up the river in his little boat.

Alfred Taylor took his trip,
But he didn’t ride on the governor’s ship.
Jake Fisher saw it was up to him
To send Jones along if he had to swim.

Marple and Bender fought a good fight.
But Harvey and Dean put them to flight.
So up the river they had to go
Regardless of rain, regardless of snow.

Hines sends Wilson and Moyers sends Bright
Up the mystical stream in their sad plight.
They all talked of the trip and wondered whether
The clouds in the west would bring bad weather.

And for the fear their boats might go astray,
Oley Ocheltree went to pilot the way.

And as I write this little rhyme
I hope you’ll have a jolly time,
And pray that you’ll be content
As Uncle Zeke the time he went

And the Voters Voted Devotedly

Uncle Zeke post scripted his little poem, “I wish all the above voyagers good luck, hoping they will return in the early spring in due time for house cleaning and garden making.” And to the voters, the little people, Uncle Zeke gave his thanks, “I wish at this late hour to thank all the voters who voted their votes so devotedly in voting for the candidates they voted for at the voting precincts in which they devoted so much time in voting.”

Footnotes

1. Salt River. A defeated political party is said to be rowed up Salt River, and those who attempt to uphold the party have the task of rowing up this ungracious stream. J. Inman says the allusion is to a small stream in Kentucky, the passage of which is rendered both difficult and dangerous by shallows, bars and an extremely tortuous channel. -from “Infoplease,” citing “Dictionary of Phrase and Fable,” E. Cobham Brewer, 1894.

Uncle Zeke’s Buzzardtown Love Poems

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by DAVID PARMER

Uncle Zeke was fond of poetry and found it an expressive way to convey good cheer. Uncle Zeke also was fond of poking fun by way of verse at the boys and girls of his home town of Buzzardtown.. Here are two examples of the love poems exchanged between a Buzzardtown boy and girl.

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I’ve Got a Girl
I’ve got a girl, her name is Bess,
Not good looking, I’ll confess—
Arm like a doodlebug, foot like a ham,
Dumb as a mule from Alabam.

Hump on her back, has one cork leg,
Warts on her face, big as an egg.
One eye is green, the other is blue,
Her hair is false, her teeth is too.

Underslung jaw, her mouth is numb,
All out of whack from chewing gum.
A turned up nose, an Andy Gump chin,1
But a darned good girl for the shape she’s in.

Uncle Zeke on behalf of the Buzzardtown girl, retorts:

I’ve Got a Beau
I’ve got a beau, his name is Jim,
He looks like something the cat dragged in;
Eyes are crooked, got a bad stare,
Head all bald for want of hair.

Nose is red, mouth caved in,
Tobacco juice smeared all over his chin;
Tall and skinny, legs all bowed,
He’s both knockkneed and pigeontoed.

He’s rather hunchbacked, got a neck like a crane,
He’s sometimes crazy and sometimes sane;
Not good looking, ugly as sin
But a darned good man for the shape he’s in.

Footnotes

1. For those of us too young to remember, here's a picture of Andy Gump and his chin (or lack thereof.).

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The Moon Shines Along Oil Creek

by David Parmer

In a previously posted companion article, Uncle Zeke’s War on Booze: Now That’s What I Call Drunk, Uncle Zeke made it very clear that many of his neighbors in the Orlando area during the 1920s and 1930s were either engaged in the drinking of moonshine or the making of moonshine. In nearly every newspaper column he wrote during this period, Uncle Zeke complained about the people who drank moonshine, paid money for moonshine, and bootlegged moonshine. He reserved his harshest criticism however for the real nabobs, the people who made the moonshine.

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Click on the moon to the right to hear Fred Riffle, who lived on Oil Creek close to Posey Run, telling Minnie McNemar about making moonshine and home brew.1

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Home Brew
There has been a long history of the manufacture and drinking of spirits in America since colonial days. Generally, people made their own whiskey, wine or beer which was sometimes called “home brew.” Thomas Jefferson planted many acres of grapes to make wine, and according to the guides at Monticello, also had a still which made corn whiskey and was known to have batches of home brew prepared from time to time. Indeed, throughout our history, until the Volstead Act brought in prohibition, Americans felt it their birthright to make alcoholic spirits. Many Americans, and many folks around Orlando, carried on the tradition of whiskey making, law or no law.

The author’s earliest encounter with home made spirits was an introduction to home brew. Around 1957, the author and a friend, Don Hawkins, was visiting the latter’s grandmother, Bernice (Mick) Hawkins in Burnsville, when a loud boom came from the direction of the cellar house. Upon investigation it was determined that one of Mrs. Hawkins’ bottles of home brew had popped its cork with a mighty bang. Of course, the making of home brew for self-consumption is and has always been legal, but it could not be sold.

Uncle Zeke however derided the makers and drinkers of home brew. Laced with sarcasm, Uncle Zeke noted in a January 1931 column that …”One great trouble with the world today is that too many people are trying to mix home brew and religion.” Home brew, a seemingly mild intoxicant, nevertheless was Satan’s drink in some quarters. Helen Jeffries recalls that Heaterhuck Henline told her that he and his cousin Newt Henline would mix up batches of home brew and hide it in Heaterhuck’s barn, or in a haystack, since it was a forbidden drink in both of their households. However, Heaterhuck’s mother, Samantha Henline, who had a keen nose, would periodically make an inspection tour of the farm’s outbuildings and haystacks in search of the illicit nectar, and upon discovery, reenacted a suitable impression of the firebrand prohibitionist Carrie Nation, disposing of the “devil’s brew,” much to the chagrin of Heaterhuck and Newt. Both of course professed ignorance of the ownership of the alcohol..

On the left are pictures of cousins Heaterhuck & Newt Henline, long after prohibition. To the right is Heater's mom and Newt's aunt (and Alexander & Phoebe's daughter) Semantha (Skinner) Henline. .

Moonshine

Moonshine, however, was public enemy number one. It was potent, over one hundred proof, and much in demand in the Orlando area. As it will be remembered, train travelers changing trains in Orlando would have over an hour to change trains, which was plenty of time to make contact with a bootlegger to buy a quart of old John Barleycorn. Many Orlando residents also felt the urge from time to time to imbibe in moonshine, or even to make their own best impression of the alcoholic drink, sometimes for self-consumption, and sometimes for illicit sale. Uncle Zeke felt Orlando was rife with bootleggers and moonshiners. In a October 1927 column, Uncle Zeke observed that “It seems like Orlando and vicinity is overdoing the speed limit here of late in the moonshine and bootleg business.” In a 1924 column, Uncle Zeke noted that “On last Wednesday, the 20th, the moon seemed to take on a little too much moonshine. At least it got real full that day.” Now whether Uncle Zeke was just noting a farmer’s almanac lunar condition, or was actually referring to some certain individual’s propensity to drink, we aren’t sure. However, Uncle Zeke, in a column shortly afterward, chastised Burr Skinner who was “getting so dry that he is willing to take the stump for either party the remainder of the campaign for a quart of moonshine.”

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Click on the moon to the left to hear Fred Riffle telling Minnie McNemar about the law catching up with an Orlando bootlegger.1

Uncle Zeke would strongly suggest the identity of some he suspected of being a maker of moonshine. In a 1934 column, Uncle Zeke posed “Did you ever hear Jim Allen tell about making whiskey one time? If not, ask him to tell you.” In January 1931, Uncle Zeke wrote, “Last Friday, while on my way to Burnsville, my eagle eye caught the sight of smoke ascending from a ravine on the brushy premises of James L. Green. Knowing full well it was too early in the morning for Jim to be performing any farm labor, I supposed he must have been operating a moonshine still. So I wended my way on toward the fair city only to be informed that Jim had spent the winter up that little ravine trying to clear out a little patch of ground for his next year’s crop of cucumbers: and the smoke I saw was from a fire Jim had built the day before to sit by and talk politics with his shadow.” I wonder if the area law enforcement officers happened to go check on Jim Green’s cucumber patch after they read Uncle Zeke’s column.
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We don't have any photos of Orlando stills in action, but this photo and the one below from the WV State Police Archives. may give us an idea of the apparatus involved.

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A McCoy family, which lived at the head of a hollow near Lloyd Posey’s farm on Clover Fork during the 1920s and 1930s, were known moonshiners with a few indictments in the Braxton County Circuit Court to back it up. Dale Barnett tells us that McCoy’s modus operandi in the sale of moonshine was to not directly hand the buyer any whiskey, but to tell the buyer “under what clump of broom sage a five dollar quart could be found.” Two of the McCoy sons, Opha and Ersie, were chronically in trouble with the law on moonshine related offenses. Both young men however, mixed business with pleasure, and in addition to selling the moonshine, also drank it freely. Opha,while intoxicated one day in Orlando in the early 1930s, was entering Lee Morrison’s pool room, perhaps to play cards, shoot pool, or just to drink, missed a step while entering the establishment and fell on his hip, breaking the bottle of moonshine which had been sustaining him that day. The broken bottle inflicted serious cuts to Opha’s hip from which he bled freely, and also caused him to let loose with a string of profanities because of his loss of his bottle, according to a passerby, who hurried on her way. This was not the least of Opha’s mishaps caused by the over indulgence in the “white lightning.” In 1933, Opha, who usually came to Orlando from his home on Clover Fork by hopping a freight train, and went home the same way, mixed a little too much moonshine with freight hopping and ended up dead with multiple broken bones and a fractured skull. He was 26 years of age. Ironically, Opha’s younger brother, Ersie, just two years earlier in 1931, also met his tragic end by a freight train just about a quarter of a mile from the spot Opha was killed, while passed out and asleep on the railroad tracks. He was 21 years of age. Both Opha and Ersie are buried in the Wooddell Cemetery.

Opha's and Earsie's death certificates are on the left and right. click on them to read them.

The grandfather of Opha and Ersie McCoy, Addison “Hatfield” McCoy, who lived on Knawl’s Creek was known for making a fine turn of moonshine, according to Dale Barnett. Dale recalls an Ocheltree family who lived in the Knawl area “across the hill from Booger Hole” which was behind the Carney place, also was known for making moonshine. Dale was advised by his Aunt Lura Williams that one of the Ocheltrees would borrow a horse whenever he had a load of sugar to transport to the moonshine still. According to one recipe for moonshine, 200 pounds of sugar is required to turn out a batch of 35 gallons of ‘shine.’ A good horse could easily carry a 200 hundred pound load up hill to the still.

Charles Bennett of Clover Fork recalls when he was young in the 1960s he was coon hunting in the area of the former McCoy farm at the head of a hollow off Clover Fork and stumbled across a large cave which still had an old coffee pot beside an old fire pit which apparently had been used by the tenders of a still. Charles also found a “peep hole” which afforded a good view of the terrain anyone would have to cross to reach the area of the cave. Charles said he could visualize the moonshiners keeping watch for the revenuers at the peep hole in the cave.

Charles Bennett also related that Ed Cosner, an old resident of Clover Fork, near Chapman, liked to brag that during the period of prohibition, a revenuer in search of moonshiners, came to his farm on Clover Fork, and pretending to be a through traveler, inquired of Ed if he knew anyone who might provide him a drink of moonshine. Ed didn’t take the bait, and advised the stranger that “No, he sure didn’t know anyone who might give him a sip.” After the revenuer left, Ed breathed a sigh of relief because the large rock that the revenuer was sitting on, mopping his brow of sweat, was the covering stone of a large barrel of moonshine which Ed had cooked up and had buried a few days before. Ed also related that he had had the foresight to scrape and carry away the soil around the buried barrel because spills of the whiskey would have given away its location, if the revenuer had gotten a whiff of it.

Charles Bennett also advises that his grandfather George Bennett found a still and barrels of mash in a hollow on his property on Clover Fork during prohibition which someone was cooking up. George never found out who was using his property for the illicit enterprise.

Waitman Collins recalls that Jiggs Riffle of Riffle Run was a moonshiner who had a reputation for potent whiskey and could be counted on to have a steady supply.

Dale Barnett recalls that although he doesn’t know if they made it, John Blake and Cecil Bee, would bootleg a little moonshine to someone needing a little drink. Dale does however tell us that Early Riffle who lived on Road Run between Linn Strader and Oke Strader was a purveyor of moonshine of his own making. A favorite spot of Early to transfer the commodity in exchange for five dollars was the water tank area at Posey Run where trains, and thirsty trainmen, stopped to fill the steam locomotives with water. The only trouble with this location was that it was within sight of the residence of Uncle Zeke who could sit on his porch and watch the transactions unfold. And who knows, the whole transaction might be in the next week’s newspaper column of the Buzzardtown News.

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To indicate his feelings about the merits of the taste of moonshine whiskey, Uncle Zeke said “[I]f you want something that beats bootleg whiskey try the following: Take one quart of bedbug juice, add to it one pint of liquid extract of polecat, drop in this solution a lump of asafedita about the size of a hulled walnut, to this add one pound of pulverized tumblebugs, pour the mixture into five gallons of swamp water, sweeten with ten pounds of limburger cheese, let stand for three days, bottle and use. Yum-yum.” Another Uncle Zeke taste test for moonshine came in response to an inquiry of a preacher “What is sin?” Uncle Zeke responded, “Honestly, I don’t know unless it is what the devil puked up when he was drunk on moonshine whiskey.”

Perhaps from his porch in Buzzardtown, Uncle Zeke espied an illegal sale of moonshine which led him to report that “John Barleycorn, Bill Moonshine, and Jake Bootleg were all seen on our streets recently. And speaking of the moon shining on Oil Creek, Uncle Zeke noted that “when the devil gets the grafter, the moonshiner, the bootlegger, and the liar, there will be but few devilish people left.” .

Footnotes

1. The two sound bytes are from a 1984 interview of Fred Riffle by Minnie McNemar from the Central West Virgina Oral History collection at Glennville State College.

Comments

comment 1 Donna Gloff
John Carney told us about Kate Moran's skill in brewing (perfectly legal) dandelion wine in the Nov '06 entry Dandelion Wine & Applejack. To the right is wine maker Kate with her brother Mike Moran and grandsons John and Pat Carney. (The woman standing next to Mike is unidentified.)

comment 2 Dale Barnett

Dale Barnett remembers Addison “Hatfield” McCoy of Knawls Creek. Dale also recalls that Presley Bragg, the mail carrier from Orlando on the Knawl’s Creek route, told him that during a mail delivery day in the 1940s, Pres was driving up the Knawl’s Creek road in his jeep and happened upon Hatfield McCoy walking down the Knawl’s Creek road buck naked, carrying a load of willow branches he had apparently had cut along the creek. Pres thought that it would be best to just drive on by, pretending not to notice the bare facts, even though it might not have been considered neighborly.

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comment 3

As a child Dave Hyre heard that his grandfather, Frank Lake, was blinded by home made alcohol.

Frank, sightless, is pictured here with his young family.

Read about Frank Lake's difficult life in the Dec '06 entry Frank and Lena Lake Moved to Orlando

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comment 4

Here is a definition of moonshine from Wikipedia.

Moonshine is a common slang term for home-distilled alcohol, or whiskey for the hills, especially in places where this production is illegal.

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The name is often assumed to be derived from the fact that moonshine producers and smugglers would often work at night (i.e. under the light of the moon) to avoid arrest for producing illegal liquor. The 1811 edition of the Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, originally by Francis Grose, defines "moonshine" as follows: "A matter or mouthful of moonshine; a trifle, nothing. The white brandy smuggled on the coasts of Kent and Sussex, and the gin in the north of Yorkshire, are also called moonshine." [1] It has been suggested that the term might derive from smugglers' explaining away their boxes and barrels as "mere moonshine" (that is, nothing). (Jonathon Green, American Dialect Society Mailing List, 31 Oct 2001)

Uncle Zeke’s War on Booze: Now That’s What I Call Drunk

by David Parmer

Uncle Zeke was an avowed Prohibitionist. During the period of Prohibition, Uncle Zeke constantly railed against his friends and neighbors who violated the law by drinking moonshine whiskey or home brew. Uncle Zeke also criticized the law enforcement community for not enforcing the laws against whiskey and other illegal spirits. According to Uncle Zeke, anyone who drank and went to church were “hypocrites” and those who drank and didn’t go to church were “going to hell in a hand basket’

After the Volstead Act created the period known as Prohibition and outlawed the sale and manufacture of alcohol, many citizens of the Orlando area felt this law was an infringement upon their right to take a drink of liquor or to have a beer. And, where there is a disagreement with a law there is going to be open disregard of the law. Such attitudes got under Uncle Zeke’s skin. In a 1921 column in his Buzzardtown News, Uncle Zeke wrote: “Some people think that the Devil may swap his interest in the infernal regions for a little patch up here on earth. Well, I have the very spot picked out for him already equipped with the Devils, and I am sure he would like it if it isn’t too tough a place for the old gentleman. If he ever comes to see about it he had better bring a gallon or two of moonshine and a deck of cards and I think he would be sure to make a deal. He couldn’t make it any worse.”

Just a couple of weeks later in his news column, Uncle Zeke again lambasted the “alcohol crowd.” “O, when will prohibition prohibit? I would like to see the time when officers of the law would do their duty and put a stop to such cussedness as is being carried on in most every community. Shame on the young men and the older ones too who are ruining their reputations, their health and their immortal souls. Listen, the Good Book tells us that no drunkard can enter the Kingdom of Heaven and if you miss Heaven you miss it all.”

Uncle Zeke (P.N.Blake) is second from the left in this photo.
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Uncle Zeke appeared to be feuding with the Orlando correspondent of the Braxton Democrat who apparently did not consider alcohol the mortal sin that Uncle Zeke thought it was: “The Orlando correspondent says he is drinking normalcy tea, but we call it ‘pickhandle of old hen.’ He says a few years ago a person had the money to buy flour but now they have to buy it on time. He forgot to tell you that it was no trouble for the person to pay five dollars for a quart of moonshine whiskey these days.” To further his thesis that Orlando was becoming a den of iniquity, in a December 1928 column Uncle Zeke wrote “Orlando seems to be much noted for its boozing, especially on Saturday nights; but will say it is mostly by boys from the other neighborhoods. It is evident that moonshine is being made by some person or persons not many miles away. I think the people of Orlando should warn these bootleggers when they come to town to take their goods and hike…” Orlando also was a haven for bootleggers, according to Uncle Zeke: “One, two, three, four, five. Five bootleggers, it is claimed, were disposing of their wares in Orlando one day last week He that is filthy, let him be filthy still. We also read where the dog doth return to his vomit and the sow to her wallowing in the mire. And the day is here.”

Uncle Zeke also was quite emphatic about what he thought would be an appropriate penalty for drinking the “Devil’s juice”: “I believe that every man who makes moonshine whiskey, and every man who sells it, and every man who drinks it and makes a pig of himself should be beaten with many stripes until they would bawl like a dying calf every time they looked at a drop of moonshine. I believe the whipping post would be a worse punishment to inflict than imprisonment. Any how it would be cheaper on the taxpayer.”

Uncle Zeke was fond of putting his feelings about a subject to verse:

A beer parlor or liquor store,
Is the devil’s church and nothing more.
My brother, sister, friend or foe,
To the devil’s church don’t ever go.

Old Satan’s name you can’t besmirch,
And many voted to build this church.
Him who doeth all things well,
Says the end thereof is a burning hell.

As you grow older day by day,
And your locks of jet begin to gray,
Ask God that you the right way choose,
And always fight the curse of booze.

Of course, Uncle Zeke was lamenting in his verse above the repeal of the Eighteenth Amendment which had outlawed the manufacture and sale of alcohol. With the repeal of the prohibition amendment it once again became legal to manufacture and sell beer and whiskey. Uncle Zeke was highly critical of the voters who brought about the repeal of the law: “People who pray dry prayers and vote wet may expect such prayers to catch fire before they reach the ears of the Lord.”

At other times Uncle Zeke was bitingly ironic about the change of conditions: “O, well, all we need is a bottle of whiskey and a cigarette so what is the use of work?” And of local conditions, Uncle Zeke wrote: “Oil Creek has been pretty full several times since whiskey has been legalized.” Saloons also came under fire from Uncle Zeke’s pen:

The Saloon Bar
A bar to heaven, a door to hell,
Whoever named it, named it well.
A bar to manliness and wealth,
A door to want and broken health.
A bar to honor, pride and fame,
A door to sin and grief and shame.
A bar to hope, a bar to prayer,
A door to darkness and despair.
A bar to honored useful life,
A door to brawling, senseless strife.
A bar to all that’s good and brave,
A door to every drunkard’s grave.
A bar to joy that home imparts.
A door to tears and aching hearts.
A bar to heaven, a door to hell,
Whoever named it, named it well.

Uncle Zeke was not shy about naming names of those who imbibed too freely: “Homer Skinner and old John Barleycorn had a little knockout recently. Old John knocked Homer out the first round. Homer surely forgot that old John “Hell” Barleycorn has knocked more people out than John L. Sullivan ever did.”

Uncle Zeke reserved his most biting criticism for one of his Buzzardtown neighbors:
“I have been informed that a real bachelor of our town who answers to the name of Burr did on a certain evening recently imbibe too freely of a beverage known as moonshine. After arriving at the point of real booziness and sleep weigh upon his brow, he crawled into Joe Riffle’s hog pen, there to snooze. Sometime during the night the hogs seemed to tire of their intruding visitor and decided to arouse him from the don’t-give-a-dam state to which he had attained. When he awoke the hogs were chewing at his mustache and he evidently thought they were trying to kiss him goodnight until he discovered they had eaten up a new hat, chewed the sleeves out of his shirt, and the back of his vest was also missing. It doesn’t pay to take up lodging in a swine pen. This will be remembered as the same person who on a former occasion took up lodging one night in Ezra’s Posey’s hen house and became cock sure of the roost, and it was said that about the break of day he actually flopped his wings and crowed.”

Now, that’s what I call drunk!

Doesn’t A Coon Coat Look Good?

by David Parmer

We have no photos related to Orlando coon hunting, but David Parmer chose the three stock photos in this entry to demonstrate how it was: the dog with two raccoons to the left, the skins drying on the side of an out building, below left, and bottom right, the dog posed in front of several drying skins.

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At college football games in the 1920s and 1930s, the fashionable look for college kids, men or women, was a long, nearly dragging-the-ground, raccoon coat. The coon coat was fluffy and warm to keep out the cold, with nice big pockets to conceal the flask of illegal booze, and besides that, it really looked good! The coon coat craze lasted for over twenty years and provided a nice cash crop for many Orlando area hunters during the 1920s and 1930s.

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It seems hunting has always been a favorite pastime of Orlando men. Nearly every home in the 1920s and 1930s in the Oil Creek valley had a good coon dog, or two, or more. And every fall or winter night, even half-fitting, was a good coon night. The dogs were always raring to go, and there was no shortage of hunters to search for and kill the crafty coon.

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Good coon dogs are a treasure to coon hunters. Orlando hunters did not appear to have a favorite coon dog. Some hunters preferred the black and tan, and others preferred the redbone, while others favored the blue tick. Actually, according to Dale Barnett, “Any good squirrel dog can make a good coon dog, and even cow dogs, terriers, or spaniels can chase coon successfully”

There is nothing more exasperating than a poor coon dog. Orlando men have been known to shell out many precious dollars for a “tried and true” coon dog. The allure of a “good coon dog” raised out of state was enticing. Helen Jeffries recalls that her late husband Coleman Jeffries paid over $200 for a coon dog from Oklahoma plus express shipping costs, including the costs when the dog was first sent in error to Kentucky by the freight company. When asked if the dog was a “good coon dog,” Helen replied that it was a “doozy in the absolutely worst way.” She further elaborated that the dog was a fraud and could not follow a scent. After one totally disastrous hunt the dog ended up being found on the “other side of Burnsville.” “It was a total waste of money,” Helen added, and she, by a stinging letter, let the seller of the dog know that “the Devil was waiting on him.”

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Please click on each of these three newspaper ads for hunting dogs; one each from Oklahoma, Illinois and Ohio.

After the day’s chores were done and the evening meals were eaten, Orlando farmers became Orlando hunters. As darkness fell, and the coon dogs became edgy, Orlando men and boys became night stalkers of the coon. Coons seemed always to be plentiful. In the winter, coons don a rich thick fur, so winter hunts are the most rewarding to Orlando men when the pelts were exchanged for cash. According to Dale Barnett, coon and mink pelts were the top pelts for fur buyers. In the 1930s, a good female raccoon or mink pelt brought as much as ten to twelve dollars. This was quite a bit of money for a Depression-poor Orlando farmer.

Dale Barnett’s father, Bill Barnett, was a buyer of furs. From his home in Orlando , Bill would buy and pay cash for all sorts of furs. Rabbit, opossum, skunk, weasel, muskrat, fox, mink, or raccoon pelts were all readily marketable. Dale Barnett recalls that his father would store his prized pelts, mink and raccoon, in his house or cellar house so they would be well-secured. Most of the other pelts would be stored in outbuildings. Periodically, especially during the fall and winter, fur buyers would visit Bill Barnett and buy all the furs he had. Two of the area fur buyers Dale Barnett recalls were Clay Thompson of Burnsville and Ira Myers of Weston, formerly of Walkersville. The large national concerns of Sears, Roebuck and Company and Montgomery Ward also were eager to buy quality pelts, especially coon and mink, which would be made into luxurious and fashionable coats for sale in their stores and from their catalogs.

Now, to the hunt. The dogs are straining at the leashes and barking and clawing the ground and more than ready to go. They are loosed from their chains. The pent-up energy of the dogs overwhelms the ability of the hunters to keep up with their four-legged companions. The hunters know this and just follow at a leisurely pace in the same general direction the dogs take. The hunters are keen to listen for the distinctive baying sound indicating a treed coon. The coons though have other ideas.

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Bruce Brannon made the folk sculpture to the right and his daughter Joyce Carole Brannon shares it with us. (Bruce Brannon was the husband of Olive Henline, see the June '07 entry The Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters )

The baying of the dogs perk up the ears of the wily, but slow-moving coon. The coon, motivated by the unwelcome sounds of the dogs, commences its often-futile search for an escape. The coon seems to fix the location of the dogs and begins its evasive actions of leading false trails, circular in shape. What dogs lack in wile, they often make up for in endurance and persistence. But, sometimes, not. Charles Bennett of Clover Fork, a frequent hunting companion of Short Riffle, recounts a hunting experience involving many hours and many miles over the hills of Clover Fork and into the “Booger Hole” section of Knawl’s Creek. Charles became concerned that he had passed through the same grape thicket several times before, which, to Charles, meant they were going around in circles. Charles pointed out to Short the lights of a house in the valley below which they had passed each time they passed the same grape vine thicket. Finally, Charles convinced Short where they were and whose house it was and that they were going in circles. The wily coon had lead them into an unfruitful chase. In his analysis of the hunt, Charles concluded that Short “would get lost in his own back yard.” On this hunt, the coon had prevailed, to live again another day.

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Coon hunters are of all ages, from youngsters to grandparents. Dale Barnett recalls several coon hunters when he was growing up in Orlando. Among those nimrods of the night were Frank Stutler, Cecil Skinner, Ed McNemar, and Marion Wymer. Two other coon hunters identified by Uncle Zeke in a 1931 column were O. L. Stutler and O. B. Heater who “caught a rousing big coon.” The late Coleman Jeffries, who lived two miles north of Orlando on the Oil Creek road, coon hunted into his late seventies. His loss of hearing, more than loss of physical stamina, was the cause of the end of his coon hunting days. His main hunting companions, Arthur Williams and Short Riffle, were also of senior citizen status. Their favorite hunting grounds were the Clover Fork area and the “ Free State ” area of Three Lick. Everyone is familiar with Clover Fork and knows its range. The “Free State” area may be a term unfamiliar with all but the oldest of Orlando residents. The “ Free State ” was a large tract of land consisting of over 1300 acres, well-watered, and stretched from the Three Lick area to the head of Posey Run. This land was owned, it is said, by an absentee landlord from the Philadelphia area, who paid the taxes on the land, but did little else to develop it. Hunters could range at will on the land, not worrying about “No Hunting” signs, or livestock to worry, hence the name “Free State.” The land was mostly wooded until The Koppers Company purchased most of the timber after World War II and the Leech Company finished up the logging in the 1950s. Huge poplar trees, with the first limbs 75 feet from the ground, and tremendous hickory trees and oaks providing mast covered the “Free State” and provided cover and food for all sorts of wild animals. And, was it ever good coon hunting territory! The old time hunters were familiar with the terrain and the haunts of old “Charlie Coon” in the “Free State” area and hunted successfully there for years.

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Pictured are coon hunters: upper right Coleman Jeffries, center left Frank Stutler (b. 1911) and immediately right, Oras L. Stutler (1896-1868).

Some coon hunts end up with unexpected results. Tom Jeffries was hunting one night with his father Coleman Jeffries and Short Riffle on Clover Fork. After a long hunt, the dogs treed and began baying, bringing the hunters to the tall oak where the animal was cornered. The beam of the flashlight revealed that the dogs had not treed a coon but rather a large bobcat which was brought to earth by a long barreled .22 pistol.

A good dog barks, and barks loud. Once a coon realizes that it cannot escape by circling or making false trails it will go to tree. Once treed, the bark of the dog changes and is recognized by the hunter that his dogs had treed the coon. Dogs can’t climb trees to catch the treed coon and the master of the dog is required to administer the coup de grace to the unlucky coon.

After the coon takes its final plunge to the ground the first step toward being a nice fur coat is accomplished. Dale Barnett advised that the coon pelt is generally dried by tacking it to the barn wall. The same procedure is used with mink. Other pelts are often tacked to a stretching board until dry.

During the dark days of the Depression, many Orlando residents, in addition to the pleasure of the hunt, were able to supplement their meager incomes by the sale of furs of coon, mink, and other creatures. It was a true cash crop. And, each time Rudy Vallee, in his long coon coat, with his megaphone, began singing “Winchester Cathedral,” who knows, his nice coon coat might have come from Clover Fork or the “Free State.”

Meet the Carney-Moran Family of Clover Fork

from John Carney

John Carney sends us additional information about the 1921 Carney/ Moran photo of his dad John Vincent Carney, John Vincent's mom Kate (Moran) Carney, and Uncle Mike Moran.

John Carney is a retired phamacist who grew up in Clarksburg. His folks were John Vincent Carney who grew up on Clover Fork and Mary Clare Dolan who grew up in town.

Back Row-Left to Right (1) John Vincent Carney
DOB DOD 01-29-1910
Son of James Francis Carney and Catherine Lorena Moran
Husband of Mary Clare Dolan
(2) Catherine Lorena (Moran) Carney
DOB 03-30-1879
DOD 08-02-1971
Daughter of John Moran and Margaret Ellen Griffin
Wife of James Francis Carney
Even her grandkids called her "Aunt Kate." In her day she was the Best Cook. To the right (will soon be) Kate with two grandsons, John Vincent's boys John and
(3) Margaret Bernadette (Schafer) Moran
DOB 10-28-1881 DOD 12-05-1925
Daughter of Henry Schafer and Catherine Caroline Sanders
Wife (first) of Peter Alfonzo Moran
(4) Mary Evelyn Moran (child being held by (3))
DOB 08-1922 DOD
Daughter of Peter Alfonzo Moran and Margaret Bernadette Schafer
Wife of Harold A. Dewey
(5) Agnes Aloysius (Kilker) Carney
DOB 1887 DOD 10-3-1928
Daughter of John B. Kilker and Mary McCaferty
Wife of Patrick Francis Carney

(6) Robert Emmett (Bobby) Carney (child being held by (5))
DOB 1924 DOD
Son of Patrick Francis Carney and Agnes Aloysius Kilker

(7) Patrick Andrew Carney
DOB 03-13-1906 DOD 01-21-1985
Son of James Francis Carney and Catherine Lorena Moran
Husband of Winifred Frances Arkle
(8) Michael Vincent Moran
DOB 02-21-1877 DOD 09-27-1954
Son of John Moran and Margaret Ellen Griffin
Husband of Marguerite C. Sweeney

. . . . Middle Row-Left to Right
(9) Rosemary Moran
DOB 09-08-1918 DOD 04-22-1990
Daughter of Peter Alfonso Moran and his 1st wife Margaret Bernadette Schafer
(10) Mary Carney, Sr. DeChantal DOB 07-13-1917 DOD 09-13-2003
Daughter of Patrick Francis Carney and Agnes Aloysius Kilker (11) Justin Vincent Carney
DOB 10-11-1915 DOD 5-23-1969
Son of Patrick Francis Carney and Agnes Aloysius Kilker
Husband of Mary Ellen Hudkins
(12) John Kilker Carney DOB 10-31-1913 DOD
Son of Patrick Francis Carney and Agnes Aloysius Kilker
Husband of Lillian Adelle Wright "Kilker" grew up on Clover Fork. He is presently retired from the military. He is writing his biography, which includes lots about Clover Fork, and lots about his adventures in the service.

. . . . Front Row-Left to Right (13) Agnes Bernadine Carney DOB 08-04-1920 DOD 12-21-1923
Daughter of Patrick Francis Carney and Agnes Aloysius Kilker
Bernadine dies of thw whopping cough the winter after this photo was taken. Click on the death certificate at the right to enlarge it. Notice it is signed by her Uncle Mike Moran.
(14) James Fabian Carney
DOB 01-17-1922 DOD 10-03-1977
Son of Patrick Francis Carney and Agnes Aloysius Kilker
Husband of Juene Briggs
(15) Margaret Phyllis Moran DOB 03-19-1920 DOD 2-4-2013
Daughter of Peter Alfonso Moran and his 1st wife Margaret Bernadette Schafer
Wife of Thomas Aloysious Killeen


These notes were put together by John Vincent Carney (DOB 06-11-1943) on June 1st 2007, of Bluefield,Va. Email carneyj276@comcast.net

Note: Back Row (1) is my Father John Vincent Carney, next to him (2) is his mother my grandmother Catherine Lorena Moran Carney. To her right on the end is her brother Michael Vincent Moran.

The Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters

by David Parmer

To the left: Charlie Henline of the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters and his sister Barbara Jean.

The crowd had

arrived early to

Frank McPherson’s wooden frame building at the western end of the Burnsville iron bridge. It was Saturday night and the building was already full of young adult couples, high school kids, and their country cousins from “up the river,” from Orlando, and Copen, and Hyre’s Run. There were far more people crowding the room than there were tables and chairs to accommodate the eager early comers. The door of the dance hall was open to Depot Street and late comers were lingering near the door looking for an opportunity to enter. .
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On the raised platform on the river side of the building, two lean and lanky young men in dark trousers and white shirts had set up their music stands and were whispering quietly with a small, thin angel-like young lady while they were looking at sheets of music. Appearing to agree on a common decision, the trio turned to face the anxious crowd. Olive, the vocalist, smiled, and looked to her brother Charlie who, tapping his toe, began strumming and fingering his guitar in a rhythmic cadenza which provided the “beat” of the tune. As Charlie neared the end of his “intro,” Olive looked to her brother James, with violin under his chin, who skillfully picked up the last note played by Charlie, and began echoing the same beat, with the same toe tapping, in slightly different notes. Charlie accompanied with subtle harmonious chords. As the crowd began to feel at one with the beat provided by the strings, Olive’s high soprano voice, crystal clear and lovely, came out of nowhere and joined the syncopated music filling the hall. Heads in the crowd swayed to and fro, dancers began taking the floor, and you could tell it was going to be a nice night of music.

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After over seventy years, Waitman Collins, now eighty-eight years of age and living in Grafton, vividly recalls, as if it were yesterday, the wonderful night of music of James, Charles and Olive Henline, who were known as the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters.

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A Heritage of Music Making

Olive, James and Charles Henline were the first three children of Amos and Charlotte (Blake) Henline, and were born in 1914, 1918, and 1919, respectively. They enjoyed making music together during their lifetimes and entertaining friends and family- first on Posey Run, or Buzzardtown as Uncle Zeke1 called it, then in Burnsville where they moved in 1935, and later from Norfolk, Virginia to Cincinnati, Ohio.

To the left: Top row, Charlotte and Amos. middle row, Jake and Pat. Front row, Charlie, Olive and James.

Below, right: Amos' father John Columbus Henline. Click on this photo to see the detail.

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Their dad Amos Henline was born in Orlando in 1893, the son of John Columbus and Sarah (Godfrey) Henline. Amos was already fiddling at the age of 21 when an accident at work, in the veneering mill at Burnsville, took two fingers. Amos then found life-long employment at the Burnsville area operations of the Philadelphia Gas Company and its successor, The Equitable Gas Company.

The year before his accident, in 1913, Amos had married Charlotte Blake, the daughter of Charles V. and Olive (Scarff) Blake of Orlando. Amos and Charlotte began having children right away and over the next twenty three years, they became parents of Olive, James, Charles, Forrest "Jake", Claude "Pat" and Melloney. In later years younger brothers Jake and Pat joined Charlie and Jimmy on stage in Cincinnati.

Charlotte died in 1938, just before her fortieth birthday. Amos married Mable Posey and they had several more children, including Barbara Jean pictured at the top with Charlie, Olive Alice, who was born shortly after her sister Olive (Henline) Brannon died, and Belinda. .

To the left: Mable, Amos, Belinda and Olive Alice at Christmas.

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As the Bach family of Germany was noted for its musical heritage so the Blake family of Clover Fork is noted for its contribution to the musical heritage of the Oil Creek valley. One wag suggested that Blake children are born with fiddles in their hands. The Blake genes coursed through the veins of Amos and Charlotte's children and at a young age they began exhibiting a precocity for music.

~ Olive began singing with a remarkable voice at a very young age.

~ James, the next oldest child, and perhaps the most versatile of the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters, was introduced to the violin at a very early age by his uncle Walter Blake,2 his mother’s brother, who played the fiddle from a very young age. James eventually mastered the guitar, mandolin, bass, and banjo, along with his ever-present fiddle.

~ Charles, the third child of Amos and Charlotte Henline, and recognized leader of the group, preferred the guitar, and became quite skilled in playing the instrument in his early teens.

Uncle Zeke noted as early as 1932 that the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters entertained the Posey Run School with a musical program. That year, Charlie was thirteen and James fourteen years of age. The Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters also played for the Orlando School on several occasions and performed at dances in Burnsville. Waitman Collins remembers that the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters would go anywhere to play their music. Eventually, the three Henline pickers and singers developed a repertoire of 262 songs, ranging over country and western, religious, Negro-related, novelty, and popular music of the day.

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Charlie's daughter Jackie (Henline) Bowser recalls that her father and her uncle James, while still teenagers, appeared on a West Virginia radio show with Homer and Jethro and fiddler Gary Blakeman. Their stepmother Mabel (Posey) Henline Eagle recalls that her stepsons James and Charlie gave performances on the radio in the Cincinnati area. Olive's daughter, Joyce Brannon, recently donated seven of her uncles’ records made in 1943 under the labels Wilcox-Gay and Philco to the West Virginia Archives and History in Charleston in order to preserve their legacy to music lovers.

From Posey Run to Burnsville

The Amos Henline family moved from Buzzardtown to Burnsville in December 1935. Charlie and Jammy were in high school and Olive married that year. It was a loss to Buzzardtown, as was noted by Uncle Zeke in his Buzzardtown News column. Uncle Zeke’s wife was the sister of Amos Henline’s mother so it also meant the loss of a nephew and his family. In addition, Uncle Zeke was sorry to see Olive move and to show his sense of loss he wrote to Olive a little poem

To Olive
There is a maid in our town,
A darling niece of mine.
She is so very blithe and gay.
Someone nicknamed her “Shine.”

She is so very kind and good,
You couldn’t help but love her.
I know you’d never if you could,
Praise someone else above her.

She is very young, and so discreet,
Most beautiful to behold.
She’s fair in form, in manner sweet,
She’s worth her weight in gold.

I hope that on judgment morn,
When all the saints shall rise,
That Olive in a spirit form
Will meet me in the skies.

Soon my days on earth will cease,
For I am growing weak.
But Olive, still you’ll be my niece
And I, your Uncle Zeke.
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Obviously touched by her Uncle Zeke’s sentiment and affection, Olive responded to Uncle Zeke’s tribute:

To My Uncle Zeke
There is a man in Buzzardtown,
Not handsome, so to speak.
For he is none other
Than my Uncle Zeke.

Some people think him funny,

And some don’t think him so.
But he seems to make friends,
So we’ll not count him slow.

I think him a jolly old fellow,
To me always the same.
And I shall always love him
As long as Zeke is his name.

I’ll remember that dear old face
And do for him all I can,
For to me he is always the same,
And is such a dear old man.

So may God bless and keep him
As good as he is today.

And may he not forget me
When he kneels down to pray.

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And now the friends of Buzzardtown
Join with me and speak,
That we shall always love him,
As long as he is Uncle Zeke.

Olive

Olive Henline graduated from Burnsville High School in 1933 and was chosen along with fellow seniors Mavis Bush, Louise Fletcher, Gwendolyn Martin and Gladys Tyo to present musical entertainment during the commencement ceremony. Olive added a sparkle to the eyes of all who knew her, was effervescent, and lit up the room with her lyrical soprano voice..

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In 1935, Olive married Bruce Brannon, a native of Gilmer County, a graduate of Glenville State Teacher’s College, a school teacher and most importantly, a musician. Bruce, while in high school, bought a violin 3 and taught himself to play by ear. After commencing college at Glenville, Bruce realized that he needed to learn the more formal aspects of music. Bruce inquired of Bertha Olsen, the college music teacher, for lessons. Miss Olsen bargained with Bruce and proposed that if he would join the college orchestra, she would give him tutorials on the violin. Eager for the opportunity, Bruce became a member of the college orchestra, and developed a love of classical music in addition to the “down home” music of the West Virginia hills.

Bruce often played with his brothers-in-law, James and Charles Henline, and Olive provided the sterling vocal arrangements in both informal family settings and at musical engagements throughout the central West Virginia area. The Henline siblings and their brother-in-law, Bruce Brannon also played under the name “BT Serenaders,” the “BT” of course standing for “Buzzardtown.”

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Olive (Henline) Brannon gave birth to two children, Robert in 1936 and Joyce Carole in 1937. A devoted mother, Olive’s life would be far too short, passing away in 1946 at the age of 32. Helen Jeffries remembers the Orlando community was much saddened by Olive’s untimely death. Olive, despite her terminal illness, managed to visit friends and relatives in the Orlando area to say her goodbyes. The name of Olive’s daughter, Joyce Carole, translates into “Joyful Song,” which is a fitting legacy to her mother.

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Left: Bruce and Olive with Joyce Carole and Robert. Click on this photo to see the detail.

Jimmy

James Henline, known as “Jimmy” to his family and friends, had health problems most of his life, and did not excel in traditional learning. Jimmy however was very adept in the field of electricity and a master of anything that had a sound board or plugged into an electrical outlet. Jimmy, at a young age, began a business in Burnsville repairing radios, and wiring homes when electricity was still in its infancy. Jimmy’s step-mother Mabel (Henline) Eagle recalls that in the 1930s Jimmy and Denver Barnett, an Orlando native living in Burnsville, rigged up a telegraph system between their respective homes in Burnsville and “dotted and dashed” each other to stay in touch. Mabel also recalls that Jimmy crafted a bass fiddle when he lived in the “Bottom” area of Burnsville but that it was unfortunately destroyed by the flood of 1943.

Right: Jimmy is playing the jew's harp with his brother, Charlie, on guitar.

In the late 1930s Jimmy left Burnsville and went to Norfolk, Virginia to work in a defense plant. He was married briefly to Wilma Dennison and when that union collapsed, Jimmy left Norfolk and went to Cincinnati to work near his brother and musical partner, Charlie. Jimmy opened a electrical business, J & J Electric, in the Cincinnati area and worked in the electrical field for the remainder of his life. Jimmy and Charlie continued their avocation of playing music in the Cincinnati area and frequently returned to their home in Burnsville with their fiddle and guitar on holidays and vacations to entertain the homefolks with music. .

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Charlie

Charlie Henline graduated from Burnsville High School in 1939. Charlie was selected by Autumn Amos as the drum major for the newly formed Burnville High School band. Charlie also played football for a rugged and successful Burnsville High School football team until a serious knee injury ended his gridiron career. Of course, this meant Charlie had more time for music. Charlie was not only a skillful guitar player but was also an excellent singer.

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To the left is Charlie as the BHS band's drum major.

To the right is Charlie's graduation picture.

Below, to the left, Charlie as an adult.

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Waitman Collins recalls that Charlie Henline, Andy Knight, Kenny Gifford and he would go out on the railroad tracks near the B & O trestle over the Little Kanawha River at night and sing songs “for the fun of it,” and would sometimes serenade Rhody Rollyson, a large lady who lived on the bank above the road near the trestle. After Rhody had been serenaded long enough, she would stand up on the porch and tell the boys that “It’s time for you bullfrogs to go home to bed.”

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Which Way To Cincinatti?

Waitman Collins also recalls that James and Charles Henline eventually settled in the Cincinnati area as a result of a mistake. Wanting to go to Charleston , they flagged a bus they thought was going to that city, but instead ended up in Cincinnati . Not having enough money to return, the brothers ended up settling permanently in the southwestern Ohio. However, Mabel Henline Eagle, Charlie’s stepmother, recalls it differently. Mabel recollects that after graduating from high school in 1939, Charlie and his friend Kenneth Gifford decided to go to Cincinnati for employment and that Jimmy joined them later when his marriage to Wilma Dennison ended.

Whatever the case, Charlie became employed by Sears Roebuck Company in Cincinnati as an appliance salesman and worked there his entire career. Of course, Charlie still played and taught others to play the guitar, and played musical engagements at social clubs, political rallies, private homes and anywhere else there was a need. Charlie often came back to West Virginia to visit family and friends in Burnsville and Orlando. Charlie’s guitar accompanied him everywhere he went and it was played every chance Charlie got to entertain a music-loving ear.

To the left, in the 1980s, Charlie is teaching a new generation of music makers. Click on this photo to see the detail.

Neither James nor Charlie Henline enjoyed good health as adults. Both brothers had several operations in their later years. Marlene Henline, wife of James, recalls that during their seven years of marriage her husband had eleven operations. Joyce Brannon was with her niece Jackie (Henline) Bowser when Charlie was entered into a nursing home after developing Alzheimer’s disease. This crippling disease however did not diminish Charlie’s love of music and he continued to play his guitar in the nursing home (when he wasn’t trying to escape) according to his niece, Joyce Brannon.

Charlie Henline died in 2001, joining his sister Olive, and his brother Jimmy who passed away in 1979. Thus came to an end the music of the Buzzardtown Tongue Twisters and BT Serenaders. Can’t you hear them singing from Charlie’s song book?

There are loved ones in the glory,
Whose dear forms you often miss;
When you close your earthly story,
Will you join them in their bliss.

Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, by and by.
Is a better home a-waiting
In the sky, in the sky? 4

. . . . . . .

..

NOTES:

~ Go to Aug '07entry B & O Freight Train Meets Amos Henline’s Cow to hear a parody penned by Charlie and recently sung by his daughter Jackie.

~ Another Orlando group was the

Cole Brothers Band.

See theFeb '07 entry The Cole Brothers Band

Footnotes
1. Uncle Zeke, the Bard of Buzzardtown, has often been the source of stories on this website. His writings have enriched the preserved the history of Orlando and the surrounding area. "Uncle Zeke" is the pen name of Patrick Newton Blake (1867-1951) born on Clover Fork, made his home near the confluence of Posey Run and Oil Creek. For more on Uncle Zeke, see entries for December '06 Trouble At Uncle Zeek's House and October '06 Uncle Zeke From Buzzard Town
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2. Walter Blake was the brother of Charlotte Blake, the first wife of Amos Henline. Walter worked for the Philadelphia Gas Company. In mid-life, Walter sustained a broken neck and for the remainder of his life wore a metal back brace with a heavy rubber band attached to the back brace which looped over Walter’s forehead in order to hold his head erect. Boys of the area, referencing the rubber band type device, called Walter “Old Slingshot.” Walter was a member of another band referred to as the “Buzzardtown Hillbillies”. Sam Bragg was also a member of that band.

3. The violin bought by Bruce Brannon while in high school is now owned by his grandson, Donald L. Lambert, Jr., who is shown to the right playing his grandfather’s fiddle.

4. These words from the song, “Will the Circle Be Unbroken,” were writen by Ada Habershon.

Comments
comment 1 Joyce Brannon
Joyce Brannon, daughter of Olive (Henline) Brannon, is also musically talented. As a ten year old child she rode her bicycle six miles to Hurst, Gilmer County, to take piano lessons. Joyce Carole graduated from Glenville State College with a degree in Music and is a retired teacher in Richmond, Virginia.

Joyce Brannon is pictured to the left.

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Joyce tells us that her Uncle Charlie and a companion (Waitman Collins says it was Charlie’s brother, James), flagged down a Greyhound bus which they assumed was going to Charleston. The bus driver negotiated a fare with them and accepted what money they had for the ride. There was apparently no discussion about where the bus was heading and instead of Charleston the bus ended up in Cincinnati. Thus began the Henline exodus to Cincinnati. All four Henline brothers, Jake, Pat, Charlie and Jimmy (The four brothers are pictured to the right) ended up in Cincinnati eventually. After high school, Joyce, their niece, also migrated to Cincinnati for employment, but returned shortly afterward to commence college at Glenville State.

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comment 2 Jackie (Henline) Bowser (Charlie and Idella’s daughter)

When I was young my father would sit on the bed in the bedroom I shared with my sister Darlene, singing and playing the guitar. My mother in the next room would say “Charlie, let those girls go to sleep,” to which my father would reply, “They want to hear one more song.” . . .You know who wanted one last song.

To the right is Jackie with her parents Charlie and Idella Henline. Be sure to click on this photo to catch the detail.

comment 3

Amos Henline’s cousin, Earl “Red” Henline, son of Loyd and Virginia (Slaughter) Henline, was a noted fiddle player from a young age. He played with the Sons of the Pioneers, Vaughn Monroe, and competed on Ted Mack’s Original Amateur Hour. Earl was also state champion fiddler of five states. Earl "Red" Henline died in 1999 in Buckhannon. His story was recently told in the Goldenseal Magazine

Red and Theresa Henline are at the left.

comment 4 Jackie (Henline) Bowser
Dear David,

Thank you for all the work you've done and all of the wonderful memories. I was one of the blessed children who had a happy child hood. You brought back that joy. By the way I do know the tune to the "Amos Henline's Cow" song. You were right that wasn't a song that was performed for anyone except family. As children we heard it over and over again. At my Dad's funeral in March, 2001 a cousin from my Mom's side of the family came up to me and said what he remembered most about visiting our home was that people were always smiling. What a joy.

Thanks again. Blessings,

Jackie (Henline) Bowser

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Comment 5 . David Parmer

The author wishes to acknowledge the invaluable assistance of Joyce Carole Brannon in the writing of this article. Much of the information for this article originated with Joyce who also provided most of the photographic material. Without her encouragement and support this article would not have been possible.

Carole's photo is to the right.