Rowan Page 4

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The writings of Leon Virgil Rowan

Sand Mountain  

by Leon V. Rowan         

     My father of Irish decent and very energetic in his mid - thirties was a farmer. He was also an owner of a small country store that soon began to dwindle away. As the lean years came, he gave credit to those that could not repay him, or moved away owing him for merchandise. In doing so he could not replace the merchandise, and survive the lean years ahead. He decided to move away and homestead a track of land he had learned of located about thirty miles to the southwest in Ettowah County. The following year he began a diversified way of life, nearer to market with better opportunities to succeed.

     This mountainous region was many miles long and wide. It is surrounded by the Tennessee River to the northeast and named, "Sand Mountain", because of its abundance of sand stone dunes. Yet, its Forrest and virgin soil stood present. A challenge to those of who have a spirit and a strong heart, who choose to endure and conquer the hidden danger, and hardships of this beautifully covered mountain, hidden in nature's majestic panorama of forest's. Building homes and clearing the land of timber and rocks, preparing the fields for growing corn, cotton, and wheat also planting gardens, all to supply them with a meager livelihood, all by the toil and sweat of their brow.

     The scattered inhabitants line far and near through out this region. Three of who were my father's brothers: who had in previous years homesteaded their farms around the forty acres that my father had settled on. This was a long, disheartening adventure indeed for my father to face. The whole area of his land was a deep, rolling forrest; it had to be cleared of timber, and underbrush. A house and barn had to be built in a short period of time. He had his own labor, a ten-year-old boy, who was his son, also his own three brothers who helped him build the housed and barn, which was necessary to begin their new livelihood. Thirty by forty feet was cleared for room to build a church school. It is named in honor of my father, ''Rowan's chapel" which is now called '' Noble's Chapel ''.

Rowan's Chapel

     All objectives of progress became a community affair that required help from all families that were ready to pool their labor and resources, until they had their projects completed. It became the task for a few of the men to go into their forest to select, and fell the best of their trees. They were to cut them into logs which were then to be hauled away by others, with wagons drawn by a team of horses, mules or pair of ox's, on to a near by sawmill where the logs were sawed into lumber by length and breadth, as ordered by their carpenter. Then they were hauled to the site of their building located in a narrow but shallow ravine, drained by a small creek, that was facing their only main thoroughfare about the center of their community, for the conveniences of all party's.

     The building crews meet; on this site, and cleared away the trees and undergrowth. Now ready to begin the structure of their building as soon as the lumber and building materials were all hauled in. Thus began the duties of the house wives to cook up hot meals, and coffee, which they carried in with their buggies or carriages, that were drawn by gentle horses. They served their hard working men and watched them toil to construct and rise up their long cherished and desired church schoolhouse.

     My father, filled with enthusiasm was not leaving any stones unturned or letting any ecstasy of enthusiasm cool down before calling a town meeting, for all the citizens to elect three trustee's. Thus representing an authority to the superintendent of county schools and to register their credential of procedures, for public support of a one-unit teacher school approved by the county superintendent. Thereafter it became the duty of the trustee's to choose the teacher, and oversee the welfare, and conduct of both teacher and pupils, whenever needed.

     The school term was limited to eighteen weeks out of fifty-two, because of limited school funds that existed in rural areas in Alabama, each student was progressed each year from the first to the eighth grade. Of course provided he attended the eighteen weeks of school session. There were no school laws to force parents to send their children up in grade, nor any required age as of today.

     The scattered inhabitants of this community were related and loyal, one with another, in some aspects of mutual interest. They formed a grapevine communication to keep them abreast of the current events among themselves, and from within the midst of their surroundings. They were similar in thought as to the three R's taught in a shotgun type schoolhouse church. This was their only educational advantage that reflected in their social and community life to a degree of society, especially this was so of a few persistent ones who fought the human specter of fright to become teachers, lawyers and preachers and doctors, from the schools of higher learning.

Faster Transportation

     The outlying terrain of this rugged woodland and mountainous region of Sand Mountain is surrounded by valleys, and rivers reaching out for 15 miles in all directions. It is a gradual elevation, filled with a dense forest of timber and undergrowth. This hides the many creeks that form a watershed on their way into larger creeks, which led on to three rivers, the Tennessee, Coosa, and Warrior. This mountainous region held no place for those weak in spirit, and faint in heart. "It presented a challenge indeed" For those who dared to brave the hidden danger and hardship to conquer this beautiful mountain, hidden in nature.

     The need and demand for better and faster transportation, rather than the slowly drawn ox cart, and mule train had become a live issue in those early days of progress, and expansion. The market places were to far away, for their mode of travel, over a poorly constructed highway that soon became one of their many dilemmas. A dilemma to be solved, and to solve it they did, by soliciting the aid of a railway company to build a spur track, a distant of 25 miles from a main terminal at Attalla, Alabama, across Sand Mountain at Guntersville ,Alabama. Guntersville is located in the Tennessee Valley, a river part at the foothills of Sand Mountain, and a connection to Memphis Tennessee by steamboat.

     Soon the Railway Company made a survey. They decided in favor of the citizen's request to build the track and necessary depot at the towns, and most villages, thus giving outlets to various communities to travel, ship and receive their products, commodities, and hardware. All necessary to the merchants, and citizens across a wide area of this mountain, all soon to be conquered and inhabited by a steady flow of immigrants, seeking homestead rights. Buying property, and mineral rights, and becoming citizens of one of these communities that had began to show its potential worth in various trades, profession, and culture.

     The Railway Co. was making steady progress. Most all operation of work had to be done by manpower, or animals, they used dynamite to blast away the rocks, making cuts through the ridges and hills, for the low places, and the trestles, across creeks, and ravines. The citizens were cooperating by cutting their timber, and hewing the logs with the broad axe to make them into cross ties. And bridge timber, being delivered at a nominal price. Thus showing their interest to the company for a long cherished relief to their economy, and prayers.

The New Exciting way of life

    The first settlers were beginning to see their dream come true. The smell of nostalgia was in the air, and the time to start planing a long desired excursion to many exciting places of interest. And to help them celebrate the discovery of a new, and exciting way of life which would surface.

     Even a visit of one day to Gadsden ,Alabama, the county seat of Ettoweh county, situated on the Coosa river at the foothills of Lookout Mountain, even the famous well known Nochalula falls, thirty miles away, would give breath taking joy and excitement to a few, who had never been farther than their own isolated community or seen the sun rise, and set beyond their own horizon.

     The days and hours seemingly grew longer but fewer in number. So few that their planned celebration of their emancipation, from an isolated frontier into the dawn of a new mode of travel, and communication that every town, village, and community effected were already making their plans to celebrate. In such ways as, picnics, music, dancing, and riding on their great demon of steam power. It being glory arrayed with plush coaches, and grates beside large windows, to view their community, and others as never seen before. While others were gathered together, standing, waiting to see this huge ''monster'' arise, out of an almost unbelievable earthly view, with a chugging musical note, and a coarse shrieking pitch of a whistle of its impending approach. All to welcome their presence of joy, and gladness.

     The wheel of time was surely turning, so were the progress of their own communities, and the current of events taking place, so much that they would not take time to look back even for a day, this was so important, for setting up plans. They prepared their mode of celebration in harmony, style with gaiety and color. They displayed all in the best of pioneer, and dress, the great ordeal of endurance, with time consuming toil took about three years of sweat, from the labor of a loyal, and hard working army of citizens. The desire of the community was speedily drawing to it's completion. The completion announcement of the scheduled operation from the railroad company had been set for the month of September. This was the latter half of July 1905. Both the company and citizens had time to organize a plan to help them celebrate this momentous event of accomplishment into the doorway of prosperity.

Celebration

     Perhaps the mothers of middle age, and older ones, in declining stages of life, had already got out their old bonnets, and dresses made of calico, or gingham. All to be hand washed, starched, and ironed in the best of form or possibly the making of new ones. Maybe the new styles were of such, commonly called, "Mother Hubbard pattern'', or coat suits with fine waist embroidery, for the older and elder ladies, maybe the waist, or hoop skirt, and bust. For the teenagers, and the gals an their twenties. Young beauties in their headgear with hanging streamers and flowers of many colors pinned to their hats. Pig tails, or plats of their hair hanging down their shoulders, and back. This would truly reflect grandeur of pioneer days, all to the time of gala and hoop a-la of songs and gay parities, each dancing to the tune of real country music, banjo, guitar, and fiddle, known as a violin today.

Such tunes as:

1. Turkey in the straw

2. Arkansas traveler

3, Memphis blues

4. My old Kentucky home

"Turkey in the straw" was my favorite one, for the old hoe down, a square dance of chasing the squirrel, and the do-si-do you swing your gal, and I will mine.

In the twilight of a memorable; vanishing and exhilarating pioneer way of life, the people and fashion were slowly ending. The older generation to the younger ones taking their places.

Conclusion:

This is only one story which are many that were told to me in later years by my father and mother. They were once the children, students, and citizens in this roaring pioneering way of life. They had fond memories of many hardships endured, and joys as they lived their lives on, '' Sand Mountain ''.

My Father and the Mule

By Leon V. Rowan

     The wheel of time was slowly turning and so was my life. At the age of seven years, I possessed a healthy body and mind. Today it seems incredible that I remember so many of the usual and unusual events that happened in those pioneer days--events that made people act in a manner similar to yet different from today. My parents were descendants of Irish Dutch ancestors whose families were torn apart by the civil war. This brought my father and mother together in the latter part of the nineteenth century to begin their family life and to build a livelihood in the best manner they knew how.

      My father possessed a yen for riding and buggy horses. Also mules for farm work. But he did not breed his own stock. At one time he purchased two mule colts from a neighboring farmer. One was of a docile nature. Easily trained by my father, to which he entrusted my safety for riding and used to perform many of the chores on his farm. The other mule colt was of a different nature and by contrast just the opposite in many respects. He was droll, smaller and lighter weight, with a barrel body covered with jet-black silky hair. He had a slightly elevated neck covered with a thick mane, a head adorned by two fuzzy straight ears, and a grayish mouth and nose. At the other end of his body was an ever-swishing tail that seemed to move even when he was asleep. It was doing either sideways or up and down to help him keep the flies away from his body, whether it be while he was grazing in the pasture or dozing in his stable. His actions were unpredictable and without precedent. He was constantly performing antics of/ticklish nature, besides having to cope with my father's pranks. My dad never relinquished an opportunity to create a funny act.

     One day the mule and I were caressing and kissing each other in the barnyard, we did that lot. With a large corncob in his hand, my dad quietly stalked upon me and he timed the mule's swish of the tail as it went up. Then immediately placed the cob at the butt end of his tail, crosswise, so that when his tail came down, so did the colt, on his tail and rear end. That clamped the cob tighter and tighter as he sat there in the image of a kangaroo, bellowing and crying, like a laughing hyena, with tears rolling down his awe- stricken face.

     I had to scamper to get away from his pawing hoofs, and snapping jaws besides being scared stiff. I looked around as he was falling over bellowing a dying oath and flailing the ground with his legs and hoofs. I began hollering for my dad to come at once. Then I turned around and saw him hanging over the fence, shaking like a statue of Jell-O. When I first reached him, I thought he was crying, just as I was, because his mule was dying. But no, not the mule, but him, with laughter, that quickly ended, because at this moment the colt had lost the cob and was coming to his feet and life again with his ears down on his neck. And his teeth showing like a roaring lion, he made for his prey. We cleared the fence just in time to save our hides from a vicious mouth and pawing hoofs. He then backed away a few feet and reared up on his hind legs as though he meant to leap the fence after us. Instead, he shook his head, and let out a wailing cry. As he jumped the fence in another direction. What he may have meant in mulish language was ''darn you" as he kicked up his heels and sped away looking for greener pastures and a new master. He found one, but for only a day and a night, for my father soon found him at a neighbor's barn, and gently led him home, where we all, made friends again.

Perhaps my father was enjoying a brief interlude from previous days, collecting his wits to cope with an unpredictable boy and a ticklish mule that held no love for my dad's hidden prank's.

**************

DRAFT needs Sp Ck

THE MUD MAN

BY Leon V. Rowan

Our home was surrounded on two sides by a forest and undergrowth, and on side of the woods was a shallow winding creek, flowing gently through the forest creating a sort of paradise for any adventurous boy. I was one who at times, would find himself hanging on a spreading oak tree with large limbs, near enough t0 reach from a self-made ladder and build a so- called roost, or house: where I played tree man or Indian scout. The days were varied and full of adventure for a seven-year-old lad who cared about his family's livelihood. I had a plan t0 help aid my father with the many jobs and difficult tasks involved in maintaining a farm. This seemed too large of a burden for my father to bear: even with my older brother's help. Besides, my brother would soon be going to boarding school leaving a vacant gap for my mother and me to fill. This plan would help with the light jobs to lessen some of his burdens of hardship. Without my plans aid my father's efforts would seem an ordeal of failure, in my simple way of thinking, how could my father perform two jobs and at the same time, accomplish the same results?

My father was a constant student of nature, books and especially the bible. From then he stored away much knowledge that made him in interesting storyteller. One of his stories that especially intrigued my mind was the story of the creation from the book of genesis. I remember so well my father's telling of how that God created the heaven and the earth and all living things therein. His word picture of how God created man from the clay of the earth caught my boy-like imagination. The idea that perhaps I could build a mud man and pray to God to breathe life into him and let him become an heir to our family and my father's helper on the farm. Perhaps this is the reason I must say now that little boys' and girls' minds are motivated by mental pictures such as we older ones live by from day to day. The more I thought of my fantastic idea (but so real to me), the more I gathered together the tools of my trade. With a gleam in my eye that enhanced my activities I began to work, with never a thought of complications or the unseen presence of a peeping Tom.

Our home was surrounded by woodland that furnished me plenty of undercover to hide away a suitable workshop near a creek that formed a sort of bench bank that would produce all the clay and water for my purpose. I immediately started assembling together such items as a tub. Pick, wooden paddle, shovel, scrap lumber and a hammer and a few NAILSY to use in building a form, similar to a wooden man that would give me a guide to follow and a structure to hold my clay form together while it dried. I would smooth the rough places with my wooden trowel, to keep my form looking more each day like the man I hoped god would accept and give life at his completion, thus making him an heir to my father's family.

As I unveil my memory to day and try to delve into the mysteries of boy's thinking I remember how difficult it was at times to get an idea to materialize as I wanted. This one was no exception, or easy to develop. It was not easy to keep a secret, because I had a few play friends who played in the woods. Also there were hunters who would be passing through. At times, my mother and father would have to follow my tracks and call me in, but never from my workshop that I believed no one had ever discovered, but that thought didn't live long.

I had my man finished and in an upright position looking very much like an overgrown midget. Squatty and athletic leg, arms and a chest under a pumpkin sized head; with a short neck that made his nose appear to extend beyond his mouth, over curving large lips. With sparkling blue eyes made of marbles that I had stored away. His overall appearance might have halted some wild beast of the forest, but he looked pretty real to me. It was on Sunday morning in September that I would give my last final touches before that hour of my prayerful dedication and thanks to the lord for my part as his helper.

The dawn of that Sabbath morn was to be one of prided joy and excitement when I would announce my secret to my mother and father and show them what the lord and I had accomplished and to introduce and offer them a new heir and helper. Sounds fantastic doesn't it? It is a fact of a boy's dream that he almost made come true. His man had disappeared from his workshop, without leaving any sign of tracks or parts of his body. If he was destroyed anywhere near my workshop, it was a futile search for me until another day. I slowly turned back to my home! Thinking perhaps the lord knew someone who needed him more than we did. I became totally dejected but complained to my mother that I wasn't feeling well. I was lost in a mental stupor that made my life miserable for the next few days, just as though a member of the family a had deceased.

My father's subtle nature kept me guessing about my secret motives. He always understood, thoughtful, kind and sympathetic to my problems, ready to rescue me from my mistakes. Even through he maintained a strict discipline: his corrections were never harsh but rather imparted a philosophy that helped create new ideals. He helped me to explore them with methods that would lead me to understand the purpose of my doings.

If rural people's lives seemed crude and full of hardship to others, there surely could be no misgivings about their meaningful purpose to live a useful life. Solving their own problems with a pioneer spirit added a spice of tranquility that others may not know. Perhaps their social functions were just as varied and crude but not without glamour, that reflected their mode of entertainment in a provincial way of life. Some occasions were weekly, others annually, such as brush arbor tent meetings in the summer time, and county and state fairs in the fall. One other occasion that created quite a bit of interest and fun was a community affair of horse trading rummage sale, and trading. It was a custom to hire an auctioneer who was witty with jokes and had a lingo of his own that would draw the attention of the people around his crude stand. He would then begin his cry for a bidder and buyer until he had finished his assignment. On this occasion, my father would welcome my help, because he had a wagon full that had to be unloaded and grouped together. We would wait our turn for the auctioneer to make the sales to a higher bidder.

I soon became interested in the auctioneer's funny jokes and lingo, and as he would move about, I began to notice his stance, and profile so much that a sudden, known image appeared in my mind. The closer I looked, the more I was convinced that he was ''my mud man'' came to life. I soon began a close up view from every angle. His stance, head, neck, nose, arms, legs and his athletic body fitted every description of my man. Soon there was intermission, and I made for the stand to be near him for another look and perhaps a question or two. As soon as he came down into the crowd. I was near him to see and say ''hello.''

The auctioneer remarked, ''lad, I bet you are having a great time''. I said, ''yep, you are a stranger here, aren't you?'' He replied in a sonorous voiced ''yep just moved in''. Then I said, ''why did you run away?'' He answered laughing, why my lad, you can move faster running than walking'' and kept moving on thus removing all doubts from my mind that he was ''my mud man".

Soon after my father had disposed of his wares and tares and Had indulged in a bit of gossip we were on our way back home, as we traveled along, I was doing some fast thinking on how to approach my father with my fantastic idea of replacing my brother with a new helper.

I began to relate my secret in no uncertain tone of disappointment and in a manner to draw my father's sympathy and blessings to believe my story. As I looked into his faces I saw an expression of love and compassion that could only come from a Father who truly loved his son. He then consoled my feelings by saying my name. ''Leon" all things are possible by the will of our lord. His ways and thoughts are not our ways, but he will bless us for the good deeds we do in helping him to make a better world for all people. My son, be of good cheer. God remembers and blesses you for being one of his helpers.'' Then I replied "daddy" I will remember to try harder to make you a better helper indeed.

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