Today in Johnson City History, Saturday, September 21, 2024
Camping in 1899 and tomorrow's high tea, book signing and live music
Today’s column is longer than normal, because I found the below adventurous story so engaging I thought it was worth the time to read it. I hope you’ll enjoy it as well.
Thursday, September 21, 1899: One hundred and twenty-five years ago today, The Comet reported news of a pleasant outing to its readers. “On Aug. 24, 1899, a merry crowd consisting of Mr. and Mrs. W. O. Phillips, Miss Julia Barry and Mrs. E. McNeely, of Fish Springs, Tenn., Mr. and Mrs. Eli Phillips, of Judson, Ind., Miss Laura Daniel, of Russelville, Ind., Mr. R. E. L. White, of Johnson City, Tenn., and Mr. J. T. Hughes, of Tazewell, Tenn., loaded a wagon to its utmost capacity with all things one could think of which would in any way replenish the inner man of a hungry mortal or relieve the lonesome feeling of the most fastidious taste, and securing passage for themselves in a hack drawn by a span of five mules, and after the usual good bys (sic) and good wishes were exchanged promptly at 6:45 a. m. set out for the hitherto unexplored regions of the Grandfather Mountain in North Carolina to while away a few days camping and eating camp-cooked meals, sleeping in tents, barns, wagons, school houses, or out in the open air sheltered only by the blue canapy (sic) of Heaven, watching the stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels as they silently blossom one by one in the infinite meadows of Heaven.
“After pausing for a few moments to quench our thirst at the many little springs along our way, which burst from the mountain sides and made their way down to the ‘beautiful river’ (Watauga), and after we have crossed the State line and passed out of the domain of the good old State of Tennessee, and entered upon the soil of the ‘Tar Heel’ State, finding a shady nook by a rippling brook, which sparkles in the sun shine (sic) as it runs across the road and falls on the rocks below, we call a halt and after a few moments dinner is announced which brings a smile to every countenance present. After all have partaken of a hearty meal and a few pieces of music have been played on a violen (sic) accompanied by a banjo, we again resume our journey. Nothing of interest happening during the afternoon we (sic) at 6:00 p. m. pitch our tent at ‘Chimney Point,’ and after supper is over and the ‘things are cleared away,’ we amuse ourselves until a late hour by telling stories. Then the beds are ‘fixed’ and we all take our bodies off to rest. On Aug. 25th at an early hour the shrill notes of a cock crowing in the distance is heard and all the sleepers are aroused, faces are washed, good mornings are exchanged, breakfast prepared and eaten, mules harnessed, ‘all aboard for Blowing Rock’ is heard and everyone takes their seat and we are on the move again, passing through Vallecrucis (sic) at 8:35 a. m. and arriving at Blowing Rock at 12:45 p. m., we pitch our tent and dinner is prepared and music furnished by the strinb (sic) band, and at 2:30 p. m., we all ‘primp’ our faces and put on our brightest smiles preparatory to having our ‘likenesses struck,’ after the ‘snatching of our beauties’ was completed we all drove up to ‘High Rock,’ which is 4000 feet above sea level, where we got a grand view of mountain scenery, returning just at night fall weary and hungry. After supper and the ‘night work’ done up everyone drew the drapery of his couch about him and fell to sleep.
“While the grass and flowers were still wet with dew and before the sun had shed its full rays upon this old earth, we were all up and had eaten breakfast, and were each according to their own dictates taking in the sights and scenes of Blowing Rock. Every one (sic) returning to camp at 10:00 a. m. and after all hands had been busy for a few moments packing and loading up we again took up the march for the Grandfather Mountain. After we had been on the road only a short time and just at 12:00 m., (sic) it began raining, continuing all the afternoon; at 2 p. m. we stopped at ‘Intermont Falls,’ a very picturesque spot on the south side and just under the top of the Grandfather Mountain, and some of the parties in the crowd sheltered under a rock over which the water falls a distance of about thirty feet. After quenching our thirst with the pure sparkling water which we diped (sic) from a natural rock basin formed by the constant falling of the water, we pass on, not halting again until 5:30 p. m., when we reach the Macre House, a hotel or boarding house run by a kind family of people just from the highlands of Scotland, and it is here we see the earless hog and the oxen working in shafts with a full set of harness on. After a short time, supper is announced and then there is a teneral rush made for the dinning (sic) room, where we find a good warm meal awaiting us, which is highly enjoyed. After supper music is rendered by the string band, then Mr. Macrae, our host, entertains by playing a few select pieces on a bag pipe, then ‘good night’ is heard, and all take their departure for a good bed which is found and enjoyed. So much are they enjoyed that no one is up until long after old Sol has climbed the crags and peaks of the Grandfather Mountain and shed his rays of light and heat over all the earth.
“This being Sunday we all don our ‘meeting clothes’ and start on a march up the Grandfather Mountain, reaching the topmost point which is six thousand feet above sea level. At 10:36 a. m. everyone being enchanted by the beauty of the scenry (sic) which can only be enjoyed to the fullest extent by going and beholding. One gazes out as far as the eye can behold upon a solid mass of hills and valleys covered with green trees, constituting which might be appropriately termed a lake of timber. After we had all feasted our eyes upon the magnificent views of natures paintings everyone decaring (sic) that they had never beheld anything half so grand and expressing a desire to return again some day, and maiving (sic) the old mountain adieu, the descent is begun, reaching camp at 1:15 p. m. where a good dinner is prepared and eaten. No spring being near, the water need for making coffee was gotten from a basin in a rock, which made coffee to a ‘Queen’s taste.’ After dinner we start on the road again, stopping for awhile at Linville City, resuming our march we are forced to stop and take shelter in a barn on account of a down pour of rain and in this barn we spent the night, the ladies and mules occupying the ground floor, the ladies using the cutting room or crib for their sleeping apartment, while the men were assigned to the loft, and between the noise produced by the patter of rain drops on the roof and the melodious sound of a number of persons lowly snoring one soon fell asleep and was not awakened in the ‘wee small’ hours whon (sic) there was heard a faint voice calling out, ‘Where is my sock?’ Then all arose and were busy preparing breakfast, feeding mules and hunting the lost sock which had perhaps been carried away by some mischievous rat. After a short time breakfast is over and we ‘hit the grit’ again, reaching Cranberry at 10 a. m., and taking in the sights of the city and mines we pass on, and at high noon we pass out of the domain of North Carolina, and so soon as we set foot upon the soil of the grand old ‘Volunteer State’ we pitch our tent and take dinner, and after the noonday repast is over we recommence our journey, which is continued until we have crossed Buck Mountain, and at 6 p. m. we pitch our tent at Laurell (sic) Fork school house (sic). After supper we have a number of visitors who are entertained by music and stories. At a late hour we hie ourselves off to bed to dream of other days, but too soon are our dreams disturbed by the merry laughter and happy shouts of the school children as they come marching in, we are up in a ‘giffy’ (sic) and breakfast is soon over, then we take up the homeward march, and at 12:45 p. m., on Aug. 29, we all reach Fish Springs glad that our journey is over.”
The above article was signed “’Jerome.’”
Fish Springs is a community located in rural Carter County. It is about 24 miles from Johnson City.
Tazewell, Tennessee is about 98 miles from Johnson City. It is west and slightly north, of Johnson City.
Grandfather Mountain is located about 45 miles from Johnson City. It is southeast of Johnson City.
Blowing Rock, North Carolina is about 57 miles from Johnson City. It is also located southeast of Johnson City.
Vallecrucis, or Valle Crucis, is about 42 miles from Johnson City.
Linville City is very likely Linville, North Carolina, which is about 42 miles from Johnson City.
Cranberry, North Carolina is located about 32 miles from Johnson City. It is southeast of Johnson City.
Buck Mountain is in rural Carter County.
Laurel Fork, North Carolina is about 55 miles from Johnson City. It is southeast of Johnson City.
“Get Involved!” tomorrow by going to a book signing, a high tea, and hearing live music – all at once! In case you missed the below information previously, here's your opportunity!
Consider yourself to be cordially invited to the launch of Johnson City author Nancy Jane Giles’ debut novel, “When I Grow Too Old to Dream”. It is the first book in the “Main Street Janes’ Cozy History-Mystery series. So consider this to be a hint to watch for the second in the series!
Mark your calendar for 3:00 tomorrow afternoon, September 22nd, and be at The Philosopher’s House, which is located at 117 West Fairview Avenue in Johnson City for all things exciting surrounding this book. A proper British tea will be served, and the author will be reading from her new book. Books will be available for purchase and for signing. I must confess that I was one of Nancy Jane’s early readers, and have been waiting for over a year to see it in print.
In addition, the folk trio “Thistle Dew” will be playing featured songs from the 1935 history-mystery, including “Summertime,” “Blue Moon,” “Anything Goes,” and of course, the title tune.
“When I Grow Too Old to Dream” is set in fictional Elk Station, North Carolina, a once-bustling Tweetsie Railroad depot town. The series is multi-faceted, encompassing local history, small-town stories, retro music, recipes, and a hefty dose of humor. It would make a dandy gift for those hard-to-buy-for folks on your Christmas gift list.
Truly, it takes several people to put together something like you’ve just read. I express profound appreciation to Heidi Dulebohn and Stephanie McClellan Houk for their thoughts and encouragement.
Grateful appreciation is expressed to Collin Brooks for his social media expertise. If you need assistance with your social medial needs, call him at 423-735-8755.
Will Riddle, owner of Riddle Technology Services, can help you with all your computer and computer-related needs. He’s the best! Call him at 423-480-4024.