Another Time, Another Place: Growing Up in Swannanoa, 1929-1950

Another Time, Another Place GROWING UP IN SWANNANOA 1929-1950

By Gene Mills

2002 Parkway Publishers, Inc. Boone, North Carolina

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All rights reserved. Copyright © 2002 By Carl E. “Gene” Mills Available from: Carl E. “Gene” Mills 211 Pelham Lane Fort Mill, SC 29715-9736 (803) 547-4887 email: [email protected] These are stories about very special people who lived in a very special to wn. Times were hard, money was hard to come by, but the happy times spent here among good friends will last a lifetime. Swannanoa, Beautiful Valley, was someplace special to all who lived there.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Mills, Gene. Another time, another place : growing up in Swannanoa, 1929-1950 / by Gene Mills. p. cm. ISBN 1-887905-57-X 1. Mills, Gene--Childhood and youth. 2. Swannanoa (N.C.)--Social life and customs-20th century. 3. Swannanoa (N.C.)-Biography. I. Title. F264.S94 M55 2002 975.6’88--dc21 2002002921

Editing, Layout and Book Design: Julie Shissler Cover Design: Aaron Burleson

FOREWORD My children have heard me talk about growing up in Swannanoa all their lives. I’m sure at times they got tired of me telling some of the stories over and over again. I appreciate their patience, their listening and their interest in the way I grew up, but most of all I appreciate their love and understanding. They somehow knew how important all this was to me. I know where I came from, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it. I hope they enjoy these stories about my life from the beginning until shortly after their mother and I were married. I just wish they could have seen Swannanoa the way I saw it. This book is dedicated to them, with all my love and thanks for who they are and what they have become. And also to my wife, Patty, who has heard all of these stories until she has “corns in her ears” but still lets me tell them with a smile on her face. Thanks, Honey. I would also like to thank my two sons-in-law, and my daughter-in-law for deciding to become a part of our family. You have made the cycle complete, and you are a very important part of my life. And last, but certainly not least, thanks to my grandchildren for all the joy they have given me. I can’t imagine what life was like before they came along. I could not have written this book without the help of my daughter, June. Her help with the computer was invaluable. I appreciate her patience with me, and the many hours she spent getting everything just right. Thanks, Bug.

And also to Donna for helping with the general editing of the contents, putting all the quotation marks in the right place, checking the grammar, etc. The hours she spent doing this meant a lot to me. Thanks to three of the best kids in the world, and their spouses for giving me a computer for Christmas, 1995. Writing this has been fun, and it has taken me back to some very special times in my life. Without this gift I would never have had the wonderful opportunity to reminisce. It’s been like going back in time, and being a kid again. Also a very special thanks to Lois Hall Melton and Wade “Gob” Martin for furnishing most of the pictures. And to Joe Griffin, my friend in Pineville, NC, for taking time out of his busy schedule to scan them for me. They made some of the stories really come to life. I have tried to be as accurate as possible in telling my stories. Over fifty or sixty years sometimes you forget exactly who was in some of the stories at school. Some of the names have been replaced by other people who were real to me, but all of the stories are true. The only names I substituted were Jackie Sawyer and Red Creasman. For the life of me I can’t remember the real names of the persons in these two stories. Also, I chose not to name any names in the class ring story for obvious reasons.

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TABLE

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CONTENTS

Prologue . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii Mill Villages. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .1 The Mill. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 A Yellow Raincoat . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .6 Village Kids . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .7 The Ball Ground. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 The Iceman Cometh . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .10 Nan and T . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .11 The Station. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 Saturday Afternoon Baseball. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16 Son, Are You a Christian?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .20 Baptizing in the River. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 Hog Pen Beach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .24 Black Bottom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .25 Labor Day, Fun Day. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26 The Cattle Drive. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 Tricks, But No Treats. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30 What Did You Say, Doc?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 Daddy Wanted a Dr. Pepper. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 Weekends In Tennessee . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .34 The Depot at the Station. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 What Did Claude Do?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .37 Rat’s Grandpa. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 Grandma Mills. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40 Train Wreck. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42 The Entrepreneur. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43 A New Bicycle, A Sick Boy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45 Radio Days. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46

Hog Killing Time. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48 Bulldog. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49 High School Athletics. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 . Talented People. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .53 . Slipping Into School. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57 . Good News, Bad News. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .58 . McCormick Field Dreams. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 . No Pats on Back. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 . Grocery Boy and Coot. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .64 . Soda Jerk. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .66 A Very Special Place. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 . My Friend Drowsy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..69 . Henry Gibbs, a Unique Person. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. 71 A Troubled Man . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .74 .. 1941 Chevrolet Special Deluxe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 December 7, 1941. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .77 Runaway Boys. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 79 .. Final Days at Swannanoa High School . . . . . . . .. 81 I’m in the Navy Now . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85 . Going into the War Zone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .87 . Heading Back to the States . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91 . Coming Home. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .93 . Our First House. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94 . Our Wedding. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 96 . Leaving Swannanoa Forever. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98 Epilogue. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .100 .

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PROLOGUE MY PARENTS A VERY IMPORTANT DECISION “They traveled to a strange land to find lifelong friends.” Gene Mills My parents were born in the hills of Eastern Tennessee, near Knoxville, just after the turn of the century. They were both born into poor farming families trying to eke out a living on a few acres of land, raising mostly tobacco and vegetables. My mother was born in Cocke County in 1901, and my father was born in Jefferson County in 1902. Although they were from different counties, they were raised about two miles from each other, between Dandridge and Newport. Both of them came from very large families. My mother had seven sisters and three brothers and my father had four brothers and three sisters. Both were raised on the farm and the children, including the girls, were expected to do their share of the farm work. It was a hard life, and there was very little money. None of my parents’ siblings had much of an education, but they were God-fearing Christian people, and most of their spare time was spent at Church activities, such as singing schools and revival meetings. Both of their families were very strict. There were no movies in those days, and their parents would not allow them to go to dances. Therefore the young people did most of their courting at church functions,

and this was how Jesse Mills met Edith Holt and their two-year courtship began. In those days courting usually meant walking a girl home from church, and sometimes this would be a few miles one way. The church was the central part of all social activities. During the week everyone was expected to do their chores and all looked forward to the weekend when it would once again be time to go back to church and resume the courtship. All churches had their own choirs and they took great pride in their singing, and everyone looked forward to the competition to see who had the most people participating and who had the best choir. After courting for a couple of years my parents were married alongside the French Broad River north of Newport, Tennessee on December 21, 1924 by a traveling preacher. The only people present for the wedding were my mother’s sister, Lucy, and her husband, Hobe Campbell. They moved into a house out in the country in a community called Clevenger’s Crossroads and lived there for awhile before moving into Newport where my father got a job in the canning factory and mother went to work in a knitting mill. They moved into a large two-story house next to a canning factory, which they shared with mother’s sister, Lucy, and her family. I was born in this house on August 8, 1926, and two years later, on July 7, 1928, my brother, Kenny, was born. We lived in Newport for awhile after that, but things were getting tough with only my father working now. One of his brothers had heard of a place in viii

Western North Carolina, in a town called Swannanoa that had jobs in a textile mill. The name of the mill was Beacon Manufacturing Company, and it was one of the largest blanket manufacturing companies in the country. In 1929 times were hard, and my parents decided this would be the best place for them to go to try to better themselves, and when I was three years old, we moved there. Soon afterwards, one by one, all my dad’s brothers, a sister, and his mother and father moved there too, along with two of my mother’s brothers. This was a tough decision, especially for my mother, since she was leaving most of her family behind. Most of their lives had been spent in rural Tennessee. They had no idea what was ahead of them on the other side of the mountains separating Tennessee and North Carolina. But the thought of a better, more comfortable life far outweighed a decision to stay in the situation they were in. They knew it had to be better than what they were doing. Little did we know at that time that we would never go back to Tennessee to live, and this would be our home for most of our lives. The decision had been a good one, and I’m glad they chose to make this move, because it gave me the chance to be a part of a community that I would remember for the rest of my life. The Mill had as its motto, “Beacon Blankets Make Warm Friends.” Some of the warmest friends I had growing up were the people that made the blankets, and especially their children, who I played with in the streets, swam with in the river, went to school, and shared so much when we all had so little. ix

Edith and Jesse circa 30’s

Edith and Jesse later

Swannanoa circa 30’s

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Mill Villages Cotton mills were a very important part of the Southern economy shortly after the turn of the century. The mills had moved South to find cheaper labor and escape the unions, and had sprung up in many small towns across the Southland. Thousands of people, who only a few short years ago were farmers, now earned their living in the textile industry. Almost every mill had its own villages in which its families lived. Villages were necessary because most of the mill workers could not afford to buy homes and the village provided adequate housing for very low rent. Mill villages were very close-knit groups. They were all more or less equal, and shared many important times in each other’s lives. Being raised in a mill village was a unique experience. Your friends were special, and the memories lasting. The villages as we knew them back in those days are gone forever, but the memories will always be with those of us who grew up there and loved every minute of it. We didn’t know any better, and to us this was a good life, in very hard times for our parents. Working in a textile mill eight hours a day for many years took its toll on many of them. This had been an escape from near poverty for most of them. Coming to work in the cotton mills proved to be their salvation. Beacon Manufacturing Company in Swannanoa, North Carolina was a good place to work during the Depression and World War II years. The Mill took care of its own, and the workers were always very loyal to the company. Many of them stayed until they retired, and some of their children followed them as mill workers. After all these years it’s good to go back and think of times past. It’s just not in any way like it was, but, oh, the memories will not go away, and for this I will be eternally grateful. Thomas Wolfe, the great author from Asheville, said “You can’t go home again”, and he was right, but it sure is good to remember where home was when you were growing up. 1

GENE MILLS

Beacon Manufacturing Co. - Swannanoa August 27, 1961

Beacon Manufacturing Co. - Swannanoa 1930’s

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The Mill “It was the best of times it was the worst of times.” Charles Dickens Everyone called it The Mill. It was never referred to as anything else as far back as I can remember. The Mill controlled everything in Swannanoa from the price of haircuts to the price of groceries. When The Mill gave a raise, these prices were raised accordingly. The pay in The Mill was adequate. It provided a fairly good living in very hard times. The Mill provided the fire department, maintained the streets, provided water and electricity, and just about every other need you could think of. There was even a grocery store owned by The Mill, called the Home Store, where I tasted my first CocaCola. The fire department was voluntary and was manned by The Mill employees. When there was a fire in The Mill, the Villages or other places in the township, the old Mill whistle would blast out signaling the firemen to come to The Mill and man the fire equipment. This was a lonesome, scary sound that saved a lot of homes in the area. On each street in the villages were little firehouses that contained fire hoses, axes and other firefighting equipment. Almost everything that was done in Swannanoa had to be approved by The Mill. The Mill, owned by the Charles D. Owen family, moved to Swannanoa from New Bedford, Massachusetts in the early twenties. At that time most of the supervisory jobs came down with The Mill, and the lesser jobs were given to the people from around the South, from places like Georgia, South Carolina and Tennessee. If you were lucky you could get a house in the Village where the rent was only twenty-five cents per room per 3

GENE MILLS week. There were three Villages that The Mill owned. The Old Village was built when The Mill first came South. It was located on the north side of The Mill, between The Mill and the Swannanoa River. The New Village was located about a half mile east near the ball ground, and what was known as the Cow Knoll. The Smith Village was directly behind the New Village. Rent was deducted from the employee’s pay each week. The New Village houses were brick; in the other two Villages the houses were wood siding. We lived in the New Village, and longer in the Old Village, where most of mine and my brother’s memories are more vivid. Shortly after we moved to Swannanoa, we got a house in the New Village, at 131 Dennis Street. It was a brick house with two bedrooms, kitchen, living room, and bathroom. Every house had a large front porch, as well as a small back porch. This was the nicest house my parents had ever lived in. They were very proud of their new house, and they couldn’t wait for some of their relatives from Tennessee to come and visit. There was a creek that ran behind the house, and my brothers and I spent many an hour playing with our homemade flutter mills and catching crawfish. The water was so pure coming out of The Mill’s watershed in the foot of the mountains, we thought nothing of lying down and drinking out of the creek. There were two footbridges over the creek leading into the Smith Village, where many of our friends lived. Shortly after we moved into the new house, my Mother was expecting her third child. As the time drew close for her to give birth, she took my brother, Kenny, and me back to Tennessee so the baby could be born there. For some reason, my parents wanted all of us to be born in Tennessee. They got their wish when on December 2, 1930, my brother Bill was born at my Aunt Lucy’s, in a settlement called Horseshoe Bend, just outside Newport. The same doctor who delivered Bill had delivered Kenny and me. His name was Dr. Nease. He was a country doctor in every sense of the word. After a baby was delivered by him, he would fill out the birth certificate and give the baby any name he chose. For instance, 4

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Mother and Daddy named me Carl Eugene, or so they thought. Several years later when I joined the Navy and sent off for my birth certificate, they found out that Dr. Nease had put on the birth certificate Jack Nease Mills instead of Carl Eugene Mills. He probably thought it was unimportant way back then, but he didn’t realize how much trouble it would cause us in the future. My birth certificate today has Jack Nease Mills scratched out and Carl Eugene Mills written in. He also changed Kenny’s from James Kenneth to Joseph D. I guess he couldn’t think of a name that started with a ‘D’ that day. He didn’t bother to change anything on Bill’s birth certificate except the spelling of this name. Mother and Daddy had named him Billy Joe, but Dr. Nease spelled it Billie. This one little mistake would cause Bill many problems in future years. Several of my cousins in Tennessee had the same problems with their birth certificates. They too, had been delivered by Dr. Nease. It was a mess that took all of us several years, time and money to correct.

Dennis Street Swannanoa

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A Yellow Raincoat “Ah! happy years! once more who would not be a boy!” Byron My first recollection of Swannanoa was when I started first grade. The year was 1932 and the country was in the midst of The Great Depression. Times were hard, and money was hard to come by. We lived about a mile from school, and I had to walk since there were no school buses that came into the Village. This was rough on a six-year-old, especially in the winter. Sometimes on very cold days I would stop at the Methodist parsonage to get warm. Mrs. Greene, the minister’s wife, would be looking for me. This would give me a break from the cold as her house was about halfway between my house and the school. In the first grade, I was put in Miss Fields’ class. I was in a room full of strangers who would soon be lifelong friends. An important part of my life was just beginning and I couldn’t wait for it to start. Schoolwork was always fairly easy for me, and by the time I was in the second grade, I had memorized everyone’s name in the class and in what row and seat everyone sat. I remember that first year in school as if it were yesterday. I got a yellow raincoat for Christmas that year and could hardly wait for school to start back after the holidays so I could wear it to school. On the first day back to school I did wear it, and on the way home some of my friends and I took a shortcut. We had to crawl under a barbed wire fence and I caught my new coat on the fence and tore a big hole in the back, and that was the first and only time I ever wore that coat. I felt so bad. It was my main Christmas present that year, and I know how hard it had been for my parents to buy it for me. I remember how scared I was to go home and tell them, but as I recall they did not say very much, and it was soon forgotten.

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Village Kids “We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt, will think us so.” Pope Life in a mill village is unique, because the houses are so close together and everybody knows every one else’s business. Everyone made about the same salary, so we were more or less equal. There were woods all around, and we would make tree houses and play in the woods for hours. We played in the streets and rode our homemade wagons up and down the streets throughout the Village. We put roller skate wheels on a board and had ouselvesa scooter. We were very innovative when it came to making our toys! We played a lot with an iron wheel and a piece of strong wire. We would bend the wire so it would fit on the wheel, and we would roll this all over the place. We would roll it to the Station, to the ball ground and everywhere we went. Today that would look silly, but in those days all the boys did it, and it was fun. Everyone was proud of his wheel; we would race up and down the streets for hours. At night we would play Teddy Hobo, a game we made up, that was something like hide and seek, although more complicated. We also played several other different kinds of night games. It seemed as if every kid in the Village would congregate at our house, because we had a street light in our yard. We had so much fun in those simple times, doing simple things. All the Village kids were friends with each other. We were all from the same mold. All our parents worked in The Mill. No one was better than anyone else. We were kids of the Depression, cotton mill kids. None of us had much financially, but we had each other, and we were all happy and carefree. One thing that stands out in my mind, even today, was the way Daddy always left our lunch money for school. In the school cafeteria, a bowl of soup was a nickel, anda plate lunch was a dime. Daddy thought his boys should 7

GENE MILLS have a plate lunch everyday, and each morning when we looked on the kitchen table there would be three dimes laying there for us. We never missed a day getting our lunch money, although I know it was hard for him to come up with three dimes every day. I imagine a lot of times he left us his last dime. We had about three or four choices in later years where to eat lunch. We could eat in the lunchroom at school, go across the highway to Mac Pate’s filling station or go to two more filling stations that were on our school route. Most of the time we chose filling-station-eating over lunch-room-eating because it gave us a chance to get off campus for thirty minutes or so, smoke a couple of cigarettes, and visit with friends from some other classes that we didn’t get to see except at lunch time. Fillingstation-eating usually consisted of a pack of peanut butter crackers and an R.C. Cola. Daddy never knew we were not eating a hot plate lunch at the school cafeteria every day.

The Mills Boys Gene, Kenny and Billy

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The Ball Ground “How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood.” William Wordsworth The Mill had a baseball field that everyone referred to as the ball ground, and that is where we spent a lot of our summer days. We would all go to the ball ground and choose up sides and play most of the day. There was no adult supervision, and it was every kid for himself. Of course there were always some bullies and we usually had to fight to protect what was ours. Dozens of kids from all three Villages, and some from outside the Village would converge on the ball ground in the mornings, before going to the swimming hole in the afternoons. We would make up our own rules, and usually the bigger boys would be the “Manager” and the smaller boys would play whenever they would let them, and go after foul balls when they weren’t playing. We usually didn’t have but one ball, so foul ball chasing was a very important job. Most of our bats were broken by The Mill team, and we would put tacks in the handles and tape them with friction tape. Our baseballs were usually old ones we would find around the ball ground. We played with them until the covers came off, then we put black friction tape on them and played for many more hours. Almost every boy in the Village was at the ball ground on summer days. We all wore ragged clothes. We were barefoot and happy. That old ball ground was a special place to us. It was where we learned the game of baseball, and a lot about life. It was where we shared our deepest secrets with each other. We shared feelings as well as material things. The ball ground was probably the most important place in the world to us. It was our world, and the hours we would spend there were quality hours, and very important to our growing up.

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The Iceman Cometh “The best way to make children good is to make then happy.” Oscar Wilde No one had refrigerators in those days; everyone had an icebox. The iceman came through the Village two or three times per week. You put a card furnished by the ice company in your screen door telling him you wanted either twenty-five, fifty or seventy-five pounds of ice. He would bring it from his truck and put it in the icebox. While he was inside the house every kid in the neighborhood jumped on the ice truck to pick up ice chips. This was the highlight of our day, and we all looked forward to it, especially on those long, hot summer days. No one locked their houses, because they had to leave the doors open for the iceman. One day a lady was washing dishes when she heard the front door open. Someone came up behind her and patted her on the rear end. She said, without turning around, “Only fifty pounds today, please.” She was surprised when she turned and saw her husband, who was home early from The Mill. Also in those days our milkman, Mr. Patton, delivered milk through the Village. He didn’t have a truck, and he used a horse and a wagon to make his deliveries. He sold only “sweet” milk, and we called him “sweet milk” Patton. We had another man we called “buttermilk” Patton who sold only buttermilk. He, however, had a truck and we didn’t look forward to his coming as much as we did the other Mr. Patton with the horse and wagon. The milkmen were not related. Neither of the milkmen nor the iceman seemed to mind the kids following them around through the Village. It was a way of life for all of us and an everyday happening. Usually both parents worked in The Mill and the kids were on their own. It’s a wonder there weren’t more of us hurt, but about the only thing we had were cut feet from stepping on glass, or a nail in the foot because we all went barefoot from the time school was out in the spring until it started back in the fall, except on Sunday. 10

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Nan and T “Good memories are made to last a lifetime.” Gene Mills When my youngest brother, Bill, was getting ready to start to school, Mother decided it was time for her to get a job in The Mill to help Daddy with the expenses. She didn’t want us to be alone all day so she decided she would try to get one of her cousins from Tennessee, Nan Hall, to come and stay with us. We would usually go back to Tennessee about once a month, and Mother talked Nan into coming to our house to live. Nan had just finished high school, and with the Depression and all, she couldn’t find a job, so this worked out well for all of us. Nan was like a big sister to us and was a very important part of our family. She was one of us, and we were glad she decided to come. One time Nan’s boyfriend, Tom Johnson, came by during the week, and Nan invited him to stay for supper. We were all sitting around the table and Kenny said, “Daddy, Gene’s been cussing today.” Daddy said, “He has? What’s he been saying?” Kenny said, “Oh, he’s been saying, shit, hell, damn and everything.” Nan wanted to crawl under the table and Daddy wished he hadn’t asked the question. Nan stayed with us for two or three years, and it was a sad day for all of us when she told us she was going to marry Tom Johnson and move to Statesville. We had several more girls to come and stay with us in the years to come, but none of them could take Nan’s place. When I was about thirteen years old and shortly after Nan left, Mother’s youngest brother, “T”, came to live with us, and this was an experience we would never forget. His real name was Tinsley Holt, but everyone called him “T’. Where Nan had been a big sister to us, “T” was like a big brother, especially to me. “T” worked the night shift at The Mill and would be sleeping when we started to school. I would slip into his 11

GENE MILLS room and get cigarettes out of his pockets, and one day just as I was slipping back out the door he woke up and caught me and chased me out the door and down the street with nothing on but his undershorts. This stopped me for awhile, but not for good, and I smoked many of his cigarettes in the days ahead, but I made sure he was always asleep before I ventured into his room. “T” used to tell the story of Mother and Daddy fussing one day, and Daddy going into the bathroom and closing the door. Without him knowing it, Mother locked the door. Finally when Daddy was ready to come out, he found the door locked. He knew he hadn’t locked it, and finally realized that Mother must have. He started banging on the door and said, “Let me out of here, Edith, I’ll show you who’s boss in this family.” Mother and Daddy denied this happening, but “T” stood by his guns and swore it did happen. “T” met a girl from out in the country named Faye Shope, and they dated for several months, and decided they would get married. After they were married a few months, “T” decided it was time to take his new wife to Tennessee to meet his folks. At this time, “T” was working the first shift in The Mill and on Saturday he was supposed to work until noon, then he would come home and get Faye and they would go to Tennessee. Faye was ready exactly at noon, but “T” never did show up. She waited and waited, but still no “T”. Along about four o’clock that afternoon, he still hadn’t come home. They were staying with us at that time, and Faye was crying and was sure something bad had happened to him. She asked Daddy if he would go see if he could find him. Daddy didn’t know what to do, so he went to see Jim Early, The Mill policeman, and he made a call or two and found out that “T” and one of his buddies were in the Buncombe County Jail, in Asheville, arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct. Daddy immediately went out in the country to Faye’s father’s house, told him what had happened and asked him to go with him to Asheville to see if they could get “T” out of jail. They went to the jail, got him out, and “T” said to Mr. Shope, “I assure you this will never happen again, 12

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this was just a mistake and I’m very sorry.” Little did we know at that time that this would happen many, many times in the future. “T” and Faye lived together for about twenty years, had two beautiful daughters, but “T” never grew up. Finally in 1960, Faye could see things were never going to change, and she and “T” were divorced and went their separate ways. She went on to better things in her life, but “T” died a sad and lonely man, never finding any real happiness for the last several years of his life.

Railroad Street - Swannanoa Train Depot on Right Post Office, WJ Parks Grocery, Harrison’s Dry Goods and Ward’s Drug Store on Left

WJ Parks, Owner Park’s Grocery Store

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The Station “God makes a country, but people make a town.” Cowper Swannanoa was a boomtown in the mid thirties and early forties. The Mill employed about twenty-five hundred people on three shifts and the streets were always full of people. We all referred to the business part of Swannanoa as the Station, and if you said you were going to town you were referring to Asheville, ten miles away. On Fridays and Saturdays you couldn’t find a place to park at the Station. Friday was payday at The Mill, and everybody did their grocery shopping, got their haircuts and other general shopping on these two days. There was no mail delivered through the Village, and everyone had to pick up their mail at the Post Office. This was always a busy place. At one time the Station had five grocery stores, two drug stores, four cafes, two barber shops, a beauty shop, a flower shop, two furniture stores, a funeral home, a theater, the post office, a bank, a filling station, four churches, two doctor’s offices, a dime store, two hardware stores, a feed store, a shoe repair shop, a dry cleaners, two or three places to buy baseball pools or any other kind of gambling you were interested in, and Toenail Smith’s combination candy store and hardware store. Toenail’s real name was John H. Smith, and his store was on the corner in the busiest part of the Station. Anywhere you were going at the Station, you had to pass Toenail’s store first. Toenail had a steel post in front of his store, and every day he would be leaning on this post. He would greet everybody that came by with a “yes suh”, nothing else, not good morning or good day, and you always felt like it was an imposition for him to go in the store and sell you some candy, but he had the best candy of anyone at the Station, and we forgave his peculiarities and always went back for more. 14

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Another place we all went at one time or another was Shirlen’s Shoe Shop. This is where we all went for shoe repairs and Mr. Shirlen would always fix our shoes while we waited. It was a one-man shop, and he did a good business. When you came out of his shop, you felt like you had on a new pair of shoes. He was very good at his trade and I can see him now with a mouth full of tacks nailing on half soles and heels. New shoes were hard to come by, and we got them repaired over and over. One of the furniture stores, Harrison’s, also sold clothes, and one year just before school was getting ready to start, I needed some new school clothes, and Daddy told me to go to Mr. Harrison’s store and get me a pair of pants and a couple of shirts He said to be sure and get a good pair, because they would probably have to last me all school year. He didn’t give me any money, but told me to ask Mr. Harrison if I could buy them and charge them to Daddy’s account. When I found the clothes I wanted, I told Mr. Harrison what Daddy had said about charging them. Mr. Harrison said, “Son, pick out anything you want in this store. I wish all the Mills boys owed me a thousand dollars apiece.” What a compliment, I thought. This made me feel very proud, and has stuck with me for these many years. Mr. Harrison also owned the funeral home, and someone once said Mr. Harrison would be the last person in Swannanoa to let you down.

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Saturday Afternoon Baseball “I remember my youth and the feeling that will never come back any more, the feeling that I could last forever.” Conrad Saturday afternoons were very special for me when I was growing up, because of the baseball team The Mill sponsored in the Western Carolina Industrial League. It was known as the Beacon Blanketeers and competed against teams such as Sayles Bleachery, Enka, Canton, Hazelwood, Balfour, Green River and Berkeley. All of these teams were sponsored by textile mills in Western North Carolina. We had some of the best teams in that part of the country, and I always felt some of our players, such as Pepper and Gobbler Martin, and Mark Ferguson, among others, could have gone high up in the minors if not the majors, but none ever got any higher than class B baseball. I can still see Gobbler going deep into the hole at shortstop, scooping up a hard hit grounder and throwing to Mark Ferguson at first base, Bozo with his lazy lob from third to first always getting his man, Drowsy with his slow curve ball and pin-point control, Harley Fox hitting a lazy fly ball over the third baseman’s head, and Pepper slowly walking up to the plate in his baggy pants, hitting a long home run over Mr. McKinney’s house and into his back yard. We also had three of the best umpires in the area in Footsie Gragg, Herb King and Boyd Owenby. Before the days of public address systems the home plate umpire would announce the batteries before the start of the game. It would go something like “the batteries for today’s game for Enka, Gudger pitching, Munday catching. For Beacon, Rhymer pitching, Burrell catching.” Some of our players names were Drowsy, Footsie, Pepper, Lightening, Gobbler, Bozo, Bo, Needlenose, Beetle, Bassie, Bud, Razor, Dent, Buck, Foxy, Shorty, Fat, Shig and Bogater, just to name a few. There were always big crowds at the ball ground 16

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every Saturday. This was a way for The Mill people to relax and have a good time. Some of them would bring some white lightning to the game, and would get pretty loud, but we had very few fistfights and everybody usually went away happy. The ball ground had a grandstand and it was usually full. People would be sitting all around the field, even out in the outfield and cars were parked up and down the streets in the New Village. At first, we didn’t have a public address system at the ball ground, and it was a happy day when The Mill built a press box atop the grand stand and installed the first public address system. Everyone waited with great anticipation for the first ball game and our new PA announcers, Earl Bailey and Vic Tipton. We were playing the Enka Rayonites that Saturday and their manager’s name was Dick Allen. The game was about to start and everyone was anxiously awaiting the moment our new announcers would start using our new PA system. They didn’t have to wait long. The first words to come over the speakers were Earl saying, “Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen. We would like to welcome Big Dick Allen and his Enka Rayonites to Nolan Field this afternoon for today’s game.” Everyone started laughing and yelling for more. We could tell it was going to be fun. Earl loved to get on that PA system more than anything else. He wasn’t a ball player, and this gave him a chance to be a part of the activities at the ball games. The next Saturday we were playing Berkeley. It was Vic’s time to use the PA system. He was just as proud of his participation as Earl had been the previous Saturday. Along about the second inning, Vic said, “Batting for Berkeley is Honeycutt, with Steppe on deck and Slider in the hole.” Then he corrected himself and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen that should be Honeycutt at bat, Slider on deck and Steppe in the hole.” Vic and Earl played loud music. You could hear it all over the New Village, almost down to the Station. I’m sure some of the people in the Village got tired of the Vic and Earl show every Saturday afternoon, when we had a ball game. Needless to say we would hear a lot of funny things coming out of that PA system in the years ahead. 17

GENE MILLS We had a lot of unusual characters in our little town, and Carroll Johnson was one of them. He loved baseball and never missed a game. The first thing he did when he entered the grandstand would be to fall flat on his face, get up and wipe himself off, and find him a seat. This was all a part of his act of course, but it sometimes embarrassed his relatives, especially nieces and nephews. When the game got started and a ball was hit to the outfield, he would yell to the center fielder to get out of the right fielder’s “torriterry” and refer to the umpire as Mr. Empire. He would also say to the batter, “Come on, hit the ball, you’re better than he are,” referring to the pitcher, of course. A ball game was not a ball game without Carroll, and everyone enjoyed his antics. By the way, he was one of the ones who usually partook of some of the white lightning. But he was a very funny man, and a very important part of our Saturday afternoons at the ball games. Carroll was a natural born comedian and I can hear him now singing, “Johnson had an old gray mare. Its name was Simon Slick. He would roll his eyes and curl his tail and oh, how that mule could kick.” I always suspected he made up the song as he went along because I never heard anyone else sing it. He and his wife, Ellen, never had any children, and Carroll more or less adopted the kids in the Village. We all enjoyed being around him and laughing at his funny stories. It was always a treat to be around Carroll Johnson. Carroll went in the Army during the war. He served most of his time in Italy. While he was over there he found a dog and brought it back home with him. He named the dog Pizon, and talked to him in Italian. Every kid in the Village loved Pizon. They couldn’t speak to him in Italian, but he seemed to understand English, too. Everyone was also glad to see Carroll back from the war. He would continue to entertain people in Swannanoa for many, many years. 18

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Front Row L to R: Melton Ellis, Bassie Moore, Harley Fox, Henry Burrell, Rex Bryant Middle Row L to R: Shorty Poteat, Bill Horne, Wayne Martin, Mark Ferguson, Ray Nichols, Woody Patton, Wade Martin Back Row L to R: Bill Barnwell, Fred Magnant, Jack Shore, Pepper Martin, Charles Tallant, Bill Rhymer, Mascot - Smokey

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Son, Are You a Christian? “Whatever makes men good Christians makes them good citizens.” Daniel Webster During the summer or early fall the Baptist Church would usually have a revival meeting lasting about a week, always with a visiting Preacher. Some of my friends and I would go to one or two of the services because this was a way to see some of our girlfriends from school, and also some of our other friends we hadn’t seen all summer. Lebo Martin was one of the ones I always went with. He wasn’t much for going to church, but would go with us, mostly out of curiosity. Southern Baptists in those days were very conservative in their beliefs and one of the things they did was to have an altar call at the end of every service, and especially at these revival meeting. When the preacher gave the altar call, and the choir was singing ‘Just As I Am’ or ‘Softly And Tenderly’ , some of the Brothers and Sisters felt the call to go into the congregation and talk to some of the sinners and urge then to come to the altar and give their lives to Jesus. One night during the altar call a good Brother felt a need to go and talk to Lebo. The man came back to where we were sitting and put his arm around Lebo’s neck and said, “Son, are you a Christian?” Lebo said, “No Sir, I’m a Martin.” The man was dumbfounded and just turned and walked away looking for another sinner to talk to. After every revival meeting, many people would get saved and some of them would feel the call to go out and preach. At one time, there were many part time preachers in Swannanoa. There wasn’t enough churches for them all to preach in, so some of them would put loud speakers on top of their cars and go through the Village, and all around the Station preaching the gospel. There were five churches in Swannanoa. Three at the Station, the Baptist, the Methodist and the Free Will Baptist, and out in the country about a mile away, the Presbyterian and the Catholic. Most of the Mill people 20

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went to the Baptist, a few of the Mill people and some of the professional people went to the Methodist, and the Mill people and the rest of the professional people attended the Presbyterian and the Catholic churches. Most of the supervisors that came south with The Mill were Catholics. This left only a few of the Mill people and others from outside the Station to go to the Free Will Baptist. Some of the Deacons at the Baptist church could be found during the week buying baseball pool tickets, but they were always in church on Sunday taking up collection and praying for sinners. In those days there were only sixteen teams in Major League baseball and they were numbered from one to sixteen. You could buy pool tickets for a quarter to win twenty-five dollars, fifty cents to win fifty dollars or one dollar to win one hundred dollars. The way it worked was the two teams that scored the most runs on the day you bought the tickets were the winners, such as one and twelve or two and sixteen, etc. People would yell out of The Mill windows to ask what the pool was for that day. Of course, it was illegal, but Jim Early, the policeman in Swannanoa, looked the other way and let them go on and have their fun. Jim was a deputy sheriff of Buncombe County, but he was employed by The Mill and very seldom bothered the people who enjoyed playing the baseball pool. Around 1932 most of the professional people attended the Methodist Church until Preacher John Greene became the pastor and started preaching against card playing, moviegoing, and dancing. A mass exodus from the Methodist to the Presbyterian took place. The pastor that followed Mr. Green was a man named O.B. Mitchell. He was the exact opposite of Mr. Green. He liked to smoke cigars and attend movies on Sunday afternoons. This didn’t set too well with some of his members, and after one year, he was gone. None of the people who left the Methodist Church went to the Baptist Church, because Baptists were even more conservative than the Methodists. The Methodist Church would change preachers about every four years, 21

GENE MILLS sometimes sooner, but the Baptists would keep their preachers for several years. The Methodist Church never did quite overcome all the people leaving, and was always a smaller congregation than the Baptists, although larger than the Presbyterian and Free Will Baptist. The Methodist Church in the early thirties and forties was the prettiest church in Swannanoa. It was a beautiful white structure with two front doors, one on each side, and stained glass windows. This building, however, was too small and in later years was moved to the rear of the lot and the brick sanctuary standing there today was built on to the front of it. The Pastor at that time was Howard Benfield and he did most of the work remodeling the church. Both of these buildings were very important places in our lives. Mother was a choir member for several years. She had a beautiful alto voice. Daddy was also a choir member, and held many important positions in the church through the years. At one time every member of the Mills family, except Grandma, attended the Swannanoa Methodist Church. She preferred to stay home on Sunday after moving from Tennessee. Although she had attended church on a regular basis before they moved to Swannanoa, she never felt comfortable going to church there. Swannanoa River Bridge 1940 Flood

Recreation Park Bridge 1940 Flood

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Baptizing in the River “There are several ways to be Baptized.” Gene Mills Our swimming hole in the Swannanoa River was just below the Old Village, and every year the Baptists would have their annual baptizing there for all the people who had been saved in the revival meetings. People would be lined up from the bank of the river all the way to the Old Village as the preacher stood in about waist deep water waiting for them. There was always a crowd of people standing on the riverbank to watch the baptizing. They would sing hymns, as the people to be baptized walked one by one out to the preacher, who always had someone to help him raise them up out of the water. One year one of the young boys in the community, Huntsy Ballard, was to be baptized. When it came his time he waded out to the preacher, and the preacher took him under the water, but to his surprise, Huntsy squirmed loose from him and came up about fifty feet up the river shaking his head and spitting. It was just a good chance for Huntsy to go swimming, and as far as I know he never did get baptized. It took the preacher awhile to realize what had happened, and he went on with the baptizing as if nothing had happened. Huntsy Ballard was one of the many boys from Swannanoa who were killed in World War II. His real name was Hoyt, but like so many people in Swannanoa, he had a nickname and this is what everyone knew him by. He was in the Navy and his ship was sunk in the Pacific early in the war. In the months and years ahead several more of our friends and classmates would lose their lives in the war.

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Hog Pen Beach “The name of the place is not important, what happened there was.” Gene Mills Our swimming hole was called Hog Pen Beach. This was because The Mill owned some land on the side of the river opposite the Old Village and let its employees build pens and raise all the hogs they wanted there. Some of the hog pen waste ran into the Swannanoa River and the swimming hole was in the river just below the Old Village. The hog pens were between the river and Highway US 70. The hog pens sat on a little hill, and we had a grapevine swing over next to them. We would swing out over the swimming hole and drop in the water. This was great fun. We enjoyed many hot summer days at Hog Pen Beach. We were there on many days from early morning till late afternoon. When the Mill people got off, some of them would come and go swimming with us. Many Mill kids learned to swim at Hog Pen Beach. It was the only swimming hole around, and was to be the only “Beach” many of us would see until we were grown. There was no such thing as pollution, or if there was we didn’t know about it. We felt safe in this cool, old river that flowed from east to west out of the Blue Ridge Mountains. One of our friends, however, didn’t ever get to use the grapevine or the swimming hole, because his mother told him she didn’t want him to go near the swimming hole until he learned to swim. I often wondered how she expected him to learn to swim on dry land. In 1940 we had one of the biggest floods to hit Western North Carolina in decades. This calm old river raged out of its banks, flooding much of the lower end of the Old Village, washing away some of the hog pens, and doing thousands of dollars worth of damage as it roared toward Asheville and finally into the French Broad River. People were actually riding motorboats on the Municipal Golf Course in Asheville. It was a devastating flood. It would be several months before the area from Swannanoa to Asheville would be back to normal again. 24

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Black Bottom “After all is said and done a name is just a name.” Anon Down behind the Methodist Church was a section of Swannanoa known as Black Bottom. The name had nothing to do with who lived there and I guess it got its name from the very black soil of the area. Anyway, this is where the Free Will Baptist Church was located along with a few houses, but most of Black Bottom in those days was vacant land. Sometimes during the summer a medicine show would come to Black Bottom. They would usually have two black men and a white man as part of the show. The two black men would put on a minstrel show, with tap dancing and would tell jokes. Then the white man, they called him Doc, would come out on the stage and start selling his medicine which was supposed to be good for anything that ailed you. The black men would go out into the audience, with medicine in hand, and every time someone bought a bottle the black men would say, “I sold one, Doc, I sold one.” They usually stayed around for a couple of days, and took several dollars of the Mill folks’ money with them when they left. I doubt the medicine cured anybody of anything, but folks sure did enjoy drinking it. Occasionally a circus would come to Black Bottom and this was a treat for the Mill folks. It was usually a very small circus, not anything like Ringling Brothers, just something else to get the Mill workers’ money. But more than anything else about Black Bottom, I remember the medicine shows and I can still hear the black guys saying, “I sold one, Doc, I sold one.”

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Labor Day, Fun Day “When we are young we think these times will last forever.” Joseph Conrad Something we always looked forward to in those days was Labor Day, because The Mill would always put on a big “to do” at the ball ground. There would always be a ball game, with one of our sister mills, usually from Oconee, South Carolina. Before the ball game, however, there were all kinds of events for us kids such as sack races, hundred yard dashes, and tug of war. The Mill would always have a lot of free food, popsicles, hot dogs, and ice cold drinks for everyone, and usually everyone that worked in The Mill and their families were there. This was the last big thing for all of us before school started back, and every one, kids and adults alike, converged on the ball ground on this very special day. One of the highlights of the day was the ball game, of course, but something else everyone enjoyed was just being together with all our friends for this one day of fun and fellowship. This would be another occasion for Vic and Earl to be at their microphones in the press box, as they were the masters of ceremony for all the day’s events. They would play their records, and announce all the events, and later, the ball game. Some of the largest crowds ever to be at the ball ground were there on Labor Day. But some years Kenny, Bill and I would miss out on it because Labor Day gave Mother and Daddy a chance to spend a long weekend in Tennessee. Swannanoa had a very large Woodmen of the World organization, which had a drill team that always performed at the Labor Day functions. The Woodmen of the World was an insurance fraternity and you had to be voted in, sort of like the Masons. They wore white uniforms at these events and all carried axes and would march around on the ball ground and put on a good show with their precision marching. After the Labor Day festivities were over, everyone would gather together for a group picture and 26

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the Woodmen would always be in the rear of the picture holding up their axes to form the letters W O W. Sometimes they would also march through the Station, axes in hand, putting on a drill exhibition for the town folk. We also had a very active Masonic Lodge in Swannanoa, as well as The Eastern Star. The lodge hall at that time was located above the Post Office. Several of the Mill people were Masons, and their wives members of The Eastern Star, along with a large number of the business people and their wives. Everyone was on equal terms inside the lodge, and some of the Mill people at one time or another held many positions in the lodge, including masters of the lodge.

The Cow Knoll “Black Bottom” from Swannanoa River Bridge

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The Cattle Drive “There was a young boy who said, ‘How shall I flee from this horrible cow?’” Anon Not only did The Mill furnish the people a place to keep their hogs, they also provided a place for them to keep a cow. Daddy, being raised a country boy, decided he had to have a cow, and found out from someone he worked with at The Mill that a cow was for sale in Ridgecrest. Ridgecrest is about ten miles east of Swannanoa and about a mile from Black Mountain. The question was how were we going to get the cow from Ridgecrest to Swannanoa since we didn’t have a truck nor knew anyone who did. Daddy wanted that cow so bad that he decided he and I would get Daddy’s brother, Amos, to take us to Ridgecrest in his car and we would walk back to Swannanoa leading the cow. This we did and I’ll never forget how embarrassedI was leading that cow down US Highway 70, through downtown Black Mountain. I was about thirteen years old and I was so afraid some of my friends from school, especially the girls from the orphanage, would see us taking turns leading a full grown cow down the highway. As far as I know nobody saw me, or if they did they never mentioned it. Anyway, after about half a day, we finally got the cow to the cow barns, picked us out a stall, put the cow in it and went home to rest. The place where the cow barns were located was adjoining the New Village on one side and the ball ground on the other side. It was known as the Cow Knoll, as it was on a hill and covered several acres back up into the mountains. If you wanted to have a cow all you had to do was to pick out a stall, get you a cow, and you were in business. Daddy got lucky and got the first stall out of about twenty lined up in a long row at the foot of the Cow Knoll. Having the first stall meant he didn’t have to carry the cow feed too far, and didn’t have to walk as far to 28

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We always had a cow as long as I could remember, but none of them stuck in my memory like old Betsy, and our long journey down the highway through Black Mountain and up through the Station to the cow barns. I spent many days on the Cow Knoll in the summer because it was so beautiful and peaceful up there. You could see for miles, and there was no one to bother you except the cows. They seemed to enjoy my company. I never did learn to milk, but I knew the cows by name and who they belonged to. Daddy always got up early and went to the cow barns to milk before going to work in the morning, and he went back to milk again in the evenings. Folks that had cows developed a special friendship seeing each other mornings and evenings, seven days a week. They helped each other when a cow got sick, helped unload cow feed and a lot of other things that happened around the cow barns. This friendship lasted until Interstate 40 came through where the cow barns stood and took away some very special memories.

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Tricks, But No Treats “Sad but true, they say, boys will be boys.” Anon Halloween was a time for near total destruction in the Village. There was no such thing as trick or treat; it was all trick. The kids started about dark and went on until near midnight pulling off their pranks. They turned over garbage cans, threw rocks at houses, broke streetlights or any other meanness they could think of. A favorite prank was to pull peoples’ main breakers, putting their houses in total darkness. All the fuse boxes in the Village houses were located on back porches; all the kids had to do was slip up on the porch, pull the breaker and run. One Halloween someone pulled our breaker about ten or twelve times. Daddy got tired of it. He got a dishpan full of cold water, sat at the kitchen door, and waited. In a few minutes someone crept up on the porch, reached up to pull the breaker and Daddy threw the dishpan full of water right in the culprit’s face. It happened to be Cotton Gibbs, and he got out in the street and yelled to his friends, “Stay away from old man Mills’ house, it’s made out of gold.” Needless to say we had lights for the rest of the evening, as no one else wanted cold water thrown on them on this cold October night. When morning came, destruction could be seen everywhere. Garbage cans in the streets, streetlights broken out and many other acts of near violence that could be imagined. It would not only be the Villages that were attacked, but some of the businesses at the Station as well. It would get so bad in later years the Mill police would be out in full force most of Halloween afternoon and all night. Maybe this is where trick or treat really started, as I’m sure it was more economical in the long run to give away a few pieces of candy, and let everyone relax, knowing nothing really bad was going to happen to their property any longer. 30

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What Did You Say, Doc? “Desperate diseases require desperate remedies.” English Proverb We had three doctors in Swannanoa when I was growing up, Dr. Buckner and Dr. Clapp shared an office, and Dr. Folsom practiced by himself. They all made house calls, and would treat anything from the common cold to whooping cough and measles in the home. They would also come to the homes to deliver babies. About half the babies in Swannanoa were delivered by these three doctors at home. One man in our town always had something wrong with him. You could ask him how he felt and he would go into detail telling you. Actually, he was as healthy as anyone, but he loved to go to the doctor. His name was Buck, and he was up in years. One day he went to see Dr. Buckner for a check-up and the doctor was getting ready to examine him and said, “Well, Buck how you feeling today?” Buck said, “Pretty good Doc, except I’m getting so I can hardly hear myself fart.” Dr. Buckner reached for his prescription pad and said, “Hell, I can fix that.” He then wrote out a prescription and handed it to Buck and he said, “Will this make me hear better?” Dr. Buckner said, “No, but it will make you fart louder.” One day a man from the Village brought his wife in to see Dr. Buckner. She was having some female problems and after a very thorough examination, Dr. Buckner said, “Ma’am, have you been through the menopause?” Her husband said, “Hell, Doc, she ain’t even been through the Smokies yet.” Dr. Buckner and Dr. Folsom liked to hit the bottle on occasion, but when he was sober, Dr. Folsom was the best doctor in the area. He never came to the office when he had been drinking, but would go into seclusion, then he would come back into the office like nothing had happened and the people would flock to him. Dr. Buckner was nearing retirement age, but before he retired be developed a cough syrup that everyone in Swannanoa 31

GENE MILLS swore by. The name of the cough syrup was simply Dr. Buckner’s Cough Syrup, and that’s what you asked for when you went to Ward’s Drug Store. The pharmacist would mix it using Dr. Buckner’s formula. Dr. Clapp was the youngest of the three doctors, and after serving in the Army during World War II, took over for Dr. Buckner when he retired. A few years later a new doctor came to the Station. His name was Dr. L. Nelson Bell. He had been a missionary in China for many years. His daughter, Ruth, who was married to a young, popular Evangelist, Billy Graham, lived nearby, and that is why he chose the area. We also had a dentist at the Station. His name was Dr. Fawcette, and his office was in the same building with Dr. Clapp. Our health needs were in pretty good hands with our local doctors. Any time any of us needed to go to the hospital, however, we had to go to Asheville. Our Swannanoa doctors took care of us there.

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Daddy Wanted a Dr. Pepper “Sometimes what we say is not necessarily what we mean.” Gene Mills Mother and Daddy never owned a car until they moved to Swannanoa. The first car I can remember us having was a 1934 Plymouth. After we bought this car we would go for a ride every Sunday after church. We would go to Lake Lure, Craggy Gardens, up over Beaucatcher Tunnel in Asheville, and dozens of other places. It didn’t matter where we went as long as we were riding, and Daddy sure did enjoy driving that car. There were two things we could count on almost every Sunday. We would first go to church, and then after lunch we would all load up in that old car and take a Sunday afternoon car ride. One Sunday, my parents invited Preacher Green’s two teenage daughters, Mary Alice and Mamie Sue, to go riding with us. We drove toward Marion and Old Fort. It was a hot summer day and the car had no air conditioning, so Daddy stopped at a filling station to get us something to drink. No one could make up their minds what they wanted, so finally Daddy saw a sign advertising a new drink and he said, “I believe I’ll have a Dr. Pecker, what’ll ya’ll have?” Of course mother and the two girls started laughing so hard they couldn’t tell him what they wanted, and Daddy never did know what they were laughing about. After all, all he wanted was a Dr. Pepper.

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Weekends in Tennessee “A man’s home is his castle and in it he is king.” Anon We used to take the car about once a month to Tennessee to visit Mother and Daddy’s folks. They were so glad to get to show their car off to their relatives. We went to Tennessee so much when we were kids it was like a second home to us. We were even enrolled in the Sunday School at the Open Door Church where Grandma Holt and several of Mother’s sisters attended. I remember Grandpa Holt sitting in the living room in the middle of the winter with his coat and hat on and the front door wide open. He would have a big roaring fire in the fireplace, and always a big chew of tobacco in his mouth and he could spit all the way across the living room and never miss the fireplace. He had a big handlebar mustache, and looked like someone out of a western movie. At that time he and Grandma were around seventy years old. On Sundays all of Mother’s sisters, their husbands and their children would come to Grandma’s for Sunday dinner. I often wondered how they afforded to feed that many people, but I guess they raised almost everything they ate, and all they had to do was kill a couple of more chickens and add a little water to the coffee. Grandma Holt was a very loving and kind person and I always enjoyed going there as a child, but Grandpa was very different and I doubt if he even knew his grandchildren’s names. I know he never called me by my name. He was very gruff with us and we were all afraid of him. These were good times. It gave my brothers and me a chance to be with cousins from my mother’s side of the family. We were always close to our Tennessee cousins, and enjoyed being with them. But Grandpa Holt always let us know that he would be glad when we all left and he would be at peace until next month when we would all be there again. 34

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The Depot at the Station “The old order changeth yielding place to new.” Tennyson The railroad was an important part of the economy of the mountain area in those days. At Swannanoa, we had two passenger trains going east and two going west every day. Along with that there were several freight trains going each way, and the local train from Asheville switched at The Mill. One man that was an important part of the railroad activities was Forrest Darity, a black man, who was in charge of loading and unloading all the freight and parcel post onto the trains. He also had the only big truck in Swannanoa, did all the moving for everyone and was one of the most well-to-do and respected men in the community. The depot for the railroad was directly across the street from Ward’s Drug Store, W.J. Parks’ Grocery Store, and the Post Office. Every day there would be several passengers getting on and off all passenger trains going in each direction. During the war a large Army hospital, named Moore General, was built about two miles east of Swannanoa, where the old State Test Farm had been located, near the Mountain Orphanage. This created more business and traffic for the depot and the Station. Every time a train would come, Forrest worked frantically to load and unload the incoming freight and also load and unload all the mail and Parcel Post. In those days all the mail was dispatched from city to city and town to town on the railroad. Forrest was known as one of the strongest men in town and seldom needed any help when he was moving people or handling freight. The Depot was a very busy place, especially when it was time for a passenger train to arrive. There were lights along the tracks east and west of the Station, and when the light was red it meant the train was ‘in block’ and would be arriving in a few minutes. 35

GENE MILLS The depot was also where the Western Union Office was located and was the only place for miles around where you could send or receive a telegram. During World War II messages from the local Western Union Office at the Station brought unfortunate news of sons or husbands being killed or missing in action. Forrest had several brothers and sisters, but the only two I remember are his brother, Clyde, and his sister, Grace. Clyde was deaf, or at least pretended to be, and worked hard unloading coal for a local merchant by day and making moonshine liquor by night. Actually, he was one of the biggest bootleggers in that part of the county. He would come in to W.J. Parks’ Grocery Store almost every day and would usually order the same things. Five cents worth of coffee, five cents worth of sugar, five cents worth of beans, two eggs, ten cents worth of bacon. All the clerks knew just about what he would buy every time he came in the store. He would also drink a Coca-Cola every day. Clyde lived about a mile east of Swannanoa in a community called Lytle Cove, where most of the black people lived. The only way he had to get home was to walk, since he never owned a car. He would always walk beside the railroad tracks, and you could slip up behind him and whisper softly, “Clyde, do you have any liquor?” He would turn around, smile, and say, “Yes, I think I may have a little, come on up to the house.” He never seemed to have any trouble hearing when selling liquor was involved. Grace did mostly domestic work for people in the Villages as well as some of the merchants at the Station. She was a hard worker, and always dependable.

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What Did Claude Do? “Spare the rod and spoil the child.” English Proverb My cousin, Claude Mills, lived about three miles west of the Station, across from US Highway 70 and the main line of the Southern Railway tracks between Knoxville and Washington. I remember them living there when old US 70 went by their house before the new three lane highway was built around 1940. We attended the same church and he was one of the most mischievous boys I ever knew. He was always in trouble, doing mean things, and since he was the baby in his family, his parents, my Uncle Mitchell and Aunt Nora, petted him and laughed at everything he did. One Sunday he came to church, and had plucked out all his eyelashes. He looked so funny and everyone broke up when he came into the class. One of Uncle Mitchell’s favorite things to say when you came to their house was, “Get Nora to tell you what Claude did.” Then he would die laughing while she told it. Claude was in my room at school in the sixth grade, and one day, the teacher had assigned us a lesson and told us she wanted everyone to be very quiet and study. No one was to make a sound while we had this quiet time. All of a sudden someone in the back of the room started laughing, and the teacher went back there to check on it. It was Jackie Sawyer laughing at Claude. The teacher said, “All right, Jackie, what’s so funny?” Jackie didn’t say anything and the teacher said, “Tell us all right now what was so funny, maybe we’ll all get a laugh.” Jackie said, “Please don’t make me tell.” The teacher insisted and finally Jackie said, “Claude farted.” Of course, everyone started laughing. Everyone, that is, except the teacher who was so embarrassed she went back up to her desk and sat down hoping the subject was closed. About that time Claude was so mad because everyone was laughing at him, he picked up a bottle of ink off his desk and threw it as hard as he could toward the teacher. 37

GENE MILLS Luckily, it didn’t hit her but bounced off the blackboard behind her. Claude was expelled from school, but like every other thing he did, Uncle Mitchell got him out of this mess and in a few days he was back in school. He was put in another sixth grade, however, and we were never in the same class again. Claude loved trains and would sit on the hill in front of his house overlooking the railroad tracks watching the trains coming up or going down the tracks for hours and hours every day. The trains coming from the west had a pretty steep hill to climb directly in front of Claude’s house. One day he decided it would be fun to make it harder for the trains to get up the hill. He looked around in his dad’s barn and found some axle grease, so he took the grease and put it on both rails for about twenty-five or thirty yards up the hill. Now all he had to do was to go back up on the hill above the tracks and wait for the next train coming from Asheville going toward Swannanoa. In a few minutes here came a freight train making pretty good time and when it started up the hill and hit the greased tracks it started spinning, and couldn’t get up the hill. Finally, after two or three attempts, the engineer could see he couldn’t make it, so he called back to Asheville for another engine to come and push the train over the hill. The railroad sent a detective out to investigate the problem, and when he found the grease on the tracks he began asking questions in the area, and the investigation finally led him to Claude. After a lot of questioning, Claude finally admitted to greasing the tracks, and the railroad prosecuted him and Claude had to go to court. Uncle Mitchell was fined and Claude was put on probation, and this was one time Uncle Mitchell didn’t say, “Get Nora to tell you what Claude did.”

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Rat’s Grandpa A righteous man who walks in his integrity—How blessed are his sons after him. Proverbs 20:7 Grandpa Mills was scared to death of rats, and Claude knew this. He went to a dime store one day and bought a life sized rubber rat to play a trick on Grandpa. The time had to be just right. One day we were all at Grandpa’s house in the Old Village, and we were out in the yard when Grandpa came outside in a brand new pair of overalls. Claude saw his chance. This was the perfect time to play his trick. Claude walked over to Grandpa and started talking, and all of a sudden said, “Grandpa, there’s a rat on you!” He dropped that rubber rat down the front of Grandpa’s overalls. Grandpa grabbed a handful of overalls and a handful of rat, took his knife out of his pocket and cut the entire front out of his new overalls and threw it as far as he could. That was the only time Grandpa ever got to wear these overalls. I don’t think he ever knew he ruined a new pair of overalls because of a harmless rubber rat. Grandpa was hard of hearing. He wouldn’t wear a hearing aid. One of his daughters-in-law invited him and Grandma to her house for Sunday dinner. She was proud of her meal and had made a big banana pudding for dessert. When it was time for dessert she asked Grandpa if he wanted some banana pudding. Grandpa didn’t quite hear her and said, “Does it have any onions in it?” Grandpa was a very religious man. Every time the doors opened at the Methodist Church, Grandpa was there. He held many offices in the church, including Superintendent of Sunday School, Sunday School teacher, Trustee, and Steward, which in those days was the same as a Deacon in the Baptist Church. Someone once said, if you ever called on Grandpa to pray be sure you weren’t in a hurry because he never knew when to stop!

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Grandma Mills “A treasured gift is a loving Grandmother.” Gene Mills Grandma Mills was different from Grandpa as far as churchgoing was concerned. I don’t ever remember seeing Grandma in church. She was a good woman, and I’m sure she worshipped in her own way in the privacy of her home. She was a very loving, jovial, and kind person who kept mostly to herself. She had snow white hair and I remember her as always laughing, always glad to see her grandchildren when they came to see her. I spent many enjoyable Sunday afternoons with my grandparents, since we lived so close. But this was not to last too long because in 1939 Grandma got sick. She died a few months after being diagnosed with cancer, becoming the first member of our immediate family to die. She was only sixty-two years old. I remember just before she died, Dr. Folsom was there at her home at 24 Edwards Avenue in the lower end of the Old Village. He pronounced her dead, and all of her children and a few of the grandchildren were there. The decision was made to take Grandma back to Tennessee for the funeral and to bury her. They had Dr. Folsom call the funeral director in Tennessee who had been a friend of the family for many years, to come to Swannanoa and make arrangements for her funeral. He came late that afternoon, and embalmed Grandma and laid her out on a day bed in the living room. He then went back to Tennessee in his ambulance to get a casket and drove back to Swannanoa. A couple of days later, a large funeral procession with many of their friends and family left Swannanoa, going back to Tennessee for the funeral. She was to be buried in a century old cemetery beside Hill’s Chapel Methodist Church in Jefferson County, where she and Grandpa and their children had worshipped for many years before moving to Swannanoa. All of their Tennessee friends, former neighbors, and some family 40

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members were already there. As the funeral procession rounded a curve and came in sight of the church, they started ringing the old church bell, signaling that Grandma was finally home in the hills of Eastern Tennessee, a place she had never wanted to leave in the first place. A few years after Grandma died, Grandpa met a lady from Kentucky at a church meeting in Ohio. They got married and lived in Kentucky until she died several years later. We didn’t see much of Grandpa the last twenty or twenty-five years of his life, because he lived so far away. About thirty years after we buried Grandma, Grandpa died and we took him back to Tennessee and laid him beside her.

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Train Wreck “Sometimes in life bad things happen to good people.” Gene Mills My parents had some very good friends who lived across the street from us in the Village. Their names were Richard and Annie Turner. They moved to Swannanoa from Gainesville, Georgia, and became some of my parents’ closest friends. They didn’t have any children and enjoyed coming to our house, and we enjoyed visiting them. They were involved in the worst accident ever to occur in Swannanoa. One Friday night they went down to the Station to buy their groceries, and while they were in the store a blizzard came up. It was one of the worst snow storms in years. On their way home in their model A Ford, when they got to the railroad crossing going up to the New Village, Richard didn’t see the freight train coming from the west. The train hit them on the passenger side and carried them about two hundred yards up the track before finally stopping. Annie was critically injured. They were taken to the Mission Hospital in Asheville. Annie had a broken hip, broken leg, broken pelvis, and some internal injuries. Richard was only slightly hurt. Annie was in the hospital for several weeks, and after recuperating for awhile at home, they decided to go back to Georgia where she would be closer to her family. My parents and I visited them in Gainsville a few years later, and that was the farthest any of us had been away from Swannanoa. A few years later in almost the same spot as the Turners’ accident, a girl from the Village, Faye Waldrup, was on her way to school and a train had the crossing blocked. She was running late for school so she climbed up on the train trying to go between the cars. Just as she got up on to the train it started to move quickly, jerking her underneath the train where she lost a leg in yet another terrible accident. She made a full recovery, finished high school, got married, and raised a family. 42

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The Entrepreneur “Making money is not always one of the most important things in life, the challenge of trying is.” Gene Mills All his young life, Kenny had always wanted to be an entrepreneur. He started out very young learning how to make money. One year for Christmas he got a movie projector and two movies. One of the movies was Popeye and the other was Mickey Mouse. He would set up his projector in the hall of our house and charge Mother, Daddy, Bill and me two cents to see the movie. Not bad for a double feature. He would invite his friends to come see the movies and he would charge them two cents or two Coca-Cola bottles. In those days when you bought a Coca-Cola or any other soft drink and took the bottle out of the store you had to pay a deposit of a penny per bottle. Kenny would take the bottles that his friends had brought for admission back to the store and get the deposit back. Kenny would also set up a Kool-Aid stand out on the vacant lot beside our house and sell Kool-Aid and funny books. (That’s what we called comic books in those days.) After awhile he outgrew his movies, Kool-Aid and funny book selling and decided it was time to move on to bigger and better things. He decided he wanted to sell candy bars, so every Friday Daddy would go to Morgan Brothers wholesale in Asheville and buy him five or six boxes of different kinds of candy that cost eighty cents for a box of twenty-four bars, and Kenny would sell the bars for a nickel apiece, making forty cents profit per box. Finally, his business grew and Mother would take bags full of candy in The Mill and sell for him. He was in the money, or so he thought, until one day he was adding up his profits and it wasn’t what it should have been. That’s when he discovered Bill and I had been helping ourselves to the candy, and from then on he kept it under lock and key and if any of us wanted a candy bar we had to shell out a nickel like everyone else. 43

GENE MILLS Daddy came home from work one day and noticed someone had been digging in the yard. After further investigation he discovered nine holes with tin cans down in them. Kenny had constructed the first and last golf course in Swannanoa. Of course, after a couple of weeks, Daddy thought it was time for the golf course to close. He told Kenny to take out the cans and fill the holes back up. It had been fun while it lasted, and Kenny was already thinking of another venture. In later years Kenny bought a small store located next to the Buckner building, simply called The Stand. He hired Bill to work for him. They would take turns working mornings and afternoons. One time Bill was working the morning shift, and Kenny was to relieve him at noon. Kenny was running late and about twelve thirty he ran into Bill at the Station. Kenny said, “Why aren’t you at the Stand?” Bill said, “I was supposed to have gotten off at twelve, and you weren’t there to relieve me.” Kenny said, “You’re fired!” Bill said, “You can’t fire me, I’ve already quit.” They settled their differences, Kenny went back and opened the Stand, and Bill was back to work the next morning as if nothing had happened. Daddy would work as their janitor and soft drink bottle sorter. He would never drink a drink or eat a candy bar without paying for it. He was never paid for his work, but would be there every day to do what he could to help his boys make a profit. Kenny finally sold The Stand to two of his friends. Kenny had a list of all the people that owed him money while operating the Stand. He called it simply, “My Shit List”. Some of his best friends’ names were on it and I’m sure Kenny still has it somewhere today. He was always surprised more by the people that were not on the list, than by the ones that were.

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A New Bicycle, A Sick Boy “There is always sunshine after the rain.” Anon When Bill was in the fifth grade he got sick and didn’t go to school for a full year. He had a very rare illness that affected the nervous system. One of the doctors started treating Bill, and it seemed the longer he treated him the worse he got. I remember Grandma Holt came to stay with Bill during his illness, and she got so she hated to see the doctor come. Bill would run a very high temperature and the doctor didn’t seem concerned. Finally, Grandma told Mother and Daddy that Bill was not getting any better, and, if anything was getting worse. She thought it was time to try a new doctor. After thinking about it for several days, Daddy decided to talk to Dr. Folsom, who had not been treating Bill.He recommended a specialist in Asheville and they took Bill to see him. In a few months he was back on the road to recovery. Bill had gotten a brand new bicycle for Christmas that year and Daddy wouldn’t let Kenny or me touch it, so when Bill was fully recovered his bicycle was still brand new, just the way it should have been. Bill was able to ride this bicycle for several years. He had a lot of catching up to do and we were glad to see our baby brother back to normal again. One good thing that came out of this illness was the fact that it put Bill in a different class at school, and he eventually graduated with people he would keep in contact with for many, many years.

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Radio Days “Radio was the television of my youth.” Gene Mills Radio was a very big part of our lives in those days. We all had our favorite programs. Daddy always wanted to listen to the news right after supper every night. He would turn on the radio, put his head right against it and say, “You boys be quiet now. I want to listen to the news.” The newscaster would start giving the news and Daddy would be listening intently, his head right beside the radio, and I would say something like, “Great day, did you hear what he said?” Daddy would say, “What did he say? What did he say?” We would all smile, say nothing, and Daddy would stick his head back down near the radio to get the rest of the news. It’s hard to imagine now how much we enjoyed the radio. It was the only type of entertainment we had. Imagine if you can, everyone sitting around the living room staring at the radio. That’s what we did. Daddy liked, along with the news, “Lum and Abner” and “Amos and Andy”. “Lum and Abner” was a continuing story about a town in the Ozark Mountains of Arkansas called Pine Ridge. It was about Lum Edwards and his friend Abner Peabody. Lum ran a store called the Jottum Down Store, and all the townspeople would hang out there. It was a good story from week to week. We tried not to miss a single episode. Two men did the voices for all the characters. “Amos and Andy” was also done by two men, and it was about a black cab driver, Amos, and his friend Andy, who was always taken in by a con man named King Fish. Another funny character was Calhoun., the Lawyer. Mother liked the “Lux Radio Theater” and “We The People”, and we kids liked “The Shadow”, a sort of detective show. One of our favorite things to say when someone asked us something was “The Shadow knows.” All these shows had full sound effects, and with a little imagination, you could almost see what was going on. 46

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Another program everyone listened to was the “Grand Ole Opry.” On hot summer nights we would be out in the streets playing, and everyone’s windows and doors were open, and you could hear the Opry just as good as if you were in your living room. You could hear Uncle Dave Macon playing the banjo. Roy Acuff and the Smoky Mountain boys would sing “The Wabash Cannon Ball” and “The Great Speckled Bird”. But what sticks out in my mind most was a guy named “The Duke of Paducah”, a comedian of sorts, and every Saturday night when his act was over he would say, “Take me back to the wagon boys, these shoes are killing me.” I never knew what he meant but I thought it was funny anyway. We all looked forward to the championship fights .They were all broadcast live on the radio. On fight night we would all gather around the radio listening and the announcer would make it sound so real you thought you were actually there. The most popular fighter of that day was Joe Louis, a black man from Alabama, known the world over as the Brown Bomber. He had won the championship in 1937 by knocking out Jimmy Braddock. He was the longest reigning heavyweight champion. When he retired in 1949, he had defended his title twenty-five times, scoring twenty knockouts in the process. We were all so proud of him when he knocked out a German fighter named Max Schmeling, just before the war. Joe Louis was a hero to many people, both black and white. He served with honor in the Army during the war. It was easy to pull for him because he was always a class act. He was a gentleman in and out of the ring. All he knew was boxing and he was one the best ever to put on the gloves. After he retired, he tried to come back twice, failing on both attempts.

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Hog Killing Time “Good food, good meat, good God, let’s eat!” Anon Thanksgiving Day was hog killing day. Daddy, Uncle Dan and Grandpa Mills had a hog to kill every year. Grandpa would take his rifle and wait for the hog to get still and shoot him right between the eyes. Then he would jump into the pen, cut the hog’s throat, and let him bleed awhile. In the meantime, many gallons of scalding hot water were boiling on an open fire. After the hog was bled out they would all jump in the pen and hoist the hog up on a scaffold they had built, throw the scalding water on the hog, and scrape all the hair off. Then it was time to start cutting the hog up, and the man to do that was a black man named Hambone Sullivan. Hambone was an expert butcher and probably cut up more hogs than any other person in Buncombe County. He was paid a small fee by everyone, plus some free meat and all the chitlins he could carry home with him. We kids would always get a couple of the hog’s bladders and blow them up and play football with them for days after the hog killing. There was nothing like the smell of fresh meat cooking on hog killing day. Mother would always can sausage and any other meat that could be canned. The kitchen was a mess during all the processing of the meat and it would be late at night before they finally got through. It was a tough job and every year they would all say, “I don’t believe I’ll have a hog next year.” But in the spring they would all buy another pig, feed it all summer and in the fall, call Hambone on Thanksgiving Day to do it all over again.

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Bulldog “The character of an educator reflects character in his students.” Gene Mills Swannanoa School consisted of two buildings. The old building was where the gymnasium was located, along with classrooms up to about the fifth grade. The new building had the rest of the elementary classrooms, all of the high school, the auditorium, the cafeteria, and the principal’s office. I had the same principal all the years I was in school. The same man that greeted my mother and me when I started in the first grade in 1932 was the same person that handed me my high school diploma eleven years later. His name was E.N. Howell. Parents referred to him as Professor Howell, but most of his students called him Bulldog. The one thing I remember about him was his big feet. That man had the longest feet I had ever seen, and if you were in the hall and saw a pair of shoes coming around the corner, you knew Bulldog could not be far behind. He loved to sing, and every year on the first day of school we would all gather in the auditorium and Bulldog would get up on the stage and sing what must have been his most favorite song in the world. I can hear him singing now ... “Oh give me a home where the Buffalo roam where the deer and the antelope play. Where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day. Home, home on the range ...” Practically every student who ever attended Swannanoa schools knew this song by heart. Mr. Howell didn’t need a microphone, as his deep baritone voice could be heard all over the auditorium and even out into the hallways. He was a good principal, and we all had a lot of respect for him. He had very little help in the office and was responsible for many teachers, several school buses, 49

GENE MILLS and a group of students that sometimes could be very difficult to handle. We often wondered how one man could do this. I also wonder if he ever knew that we called him Bulldog behind his back. In the days before the Highway Patrol, each county had what was called Speed Cops. These were men who rode motorcycles and patrolled the county highways. They wore high boots and riding pants, or knickers as some people called them. We had two assigned to our school, George Young and Jack Winslow. Winslow usually worked as a crossing guard at our school in the mornings and afternoons because the kids who walked to school had to cross US 70, a main highway with full traffic. George Young was the truant officer for our district. There was one boy, John Robert Penley, who was bad to lay out of school. One day John Robert laid out of school and George went into the Old Village where he lived looking for him. He looked and looked but couldn’t find him. Finally, he saw a lady out on her porch and he asked her if she had seen John Robert. She told him she had seen him crawl up under a house and she showed George the house he was under. George went over to the house, opened the door to the crawlspace and said, “John Robert, are you under there?” From way up under the house John Robert said, “No, George, I’m not under here.” George pulled him out and took him back to school. After that day, someone gave John Robert a nickname that would stick with him for years to come. It was John Robert Doogaloo Flying Squirrel School Boy Penley. Quite a name for a boy that didn’t like to go to school. In later years John Robert became a contractor and built some of the finest homes in the Swannanoa area. George Young eventually went to work for The Mill. He was one of the most influential and powerful men ever to live in Swannanoa. He was the personnel director for The Mill for several years before 50

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launching a career in politics. He was active in the Democratic Party in Buncombe County and served several years as a county commissioner after leaving The Mill. George was raised in Swannanoa just below the Smith Village alongside the railroad tracks. His wife worked in the Post Office for many years. His mother ran a boarding house that was known as Granny Young’s Boarding House.

Swannanoa Elementary School

Mr. E. N. (“Bulldog”) Howell, Principal

Swannanoa High School

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High School Athletics “Good teachers are hard to find, good coaches even more so.” Gene Mills Swannanoa High School was the largest school in Buncombe County, and we always had good football and basketball teams. We were called the Warriors, and our colors were blue and gold. The football coach was Walter Shuford, a fine man, one of the best teachers I ever had, and an excellent football coach. He taught general business and math. He was there for many years, never getting paid any extra for coaching football. The only remuneration he received was from money taken in on coach’s appreciation day, the proceeds of one game per year, which was very little. Every boy who ever played for Coach Shuford always came back to visit him after graduation. They all appreciated the extra effort he had shown in making their lives better. He established a winning tradition at Swannanoa High. Coach Shuford was a typical football coach of the thirties and forties. He wore a suit and a hat to all the games. After several years at Swannanoa, he was offered a better job coaching football at Lee Edwards High School in Asheville. It was a sad day when Coach Shuford left. Swannanoa High School football would never be the same. J. R. Sawyer was the basketball coach. Many football players played basketball, and they liked Coach Sawyer, but he lacked Coach Shuford’ s charisma. A few years later, J.M. Crawford came to our school as a jistory teacher, and became both the boys’ and girls’ basketball coach. I played for Coach Crawford most of my time in high school. He was very knowledgeable about basketball, a very good coach and an excellent teacher. Swannanoa High School graduated a lot of people over the years. We had graduates who became doctors, lawyers, engineers, politicians, business persons, teacher and judges, among other things.

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Talented People “The world is always ready to receive talented people with open arms.” Holmes Over in the old building in the gymnasium, we had talent shows and boxing matches, in addition to basketball games. One year we were preparing for a talent show; everyone was excited about what they were going to do. Red Creasman, a student, decided to perform, but couldn’t make up his mind what he wanted to do. All his friends would say, “What are you going to do for the talent show, Red?” He finally decided he would do one of the Sons of the Pioneers classics, “Cool, Clear Water.” In the old gymnasium, there was a balcony running around the basketball court. Performers stood just under the balcony. Red took his place to sing. Some of his buddies went up in the balcony with two paper bags full of water. When Red got to the part in the song where he sang, “Cool, Clear Water”, his buddies dropped the water right on top of his head! He won first prize. I guess the judges thought this was all part of the act. There were many talented people in Swannanoa. One of them was Marcus Martin, probably the best fiddler in that part of the country. He made his own fiddles, and many people said they were prettier and sounded better than anything you could buy in the stores. His son, Wade, known by everyone as Gobbler, was the most gifted person I ever knew. He could pick up a piece of wood, take out his knife, start carving, and in a little while a beautiful carving was in his hands. Gobbler found a place along side the railroad tracks in Lytle Cove where he could dig out a bluish colored clay. He would bring this clay home and make some of the most lifelike things you ever saw. He would make cowboys sitting on horses, and every detail would be perfect, even to the cowboy’s hat, stirrups, and rope in his hands. Gobbler made the first pair of skis I ever saw, and I can see him now, skiing down the Cow Knoll toward the cow barns. 53

GENE MILLS Gobbler and his brothers had a string band. Gobbler and Pepper played the guitar and Bozo played the fiddle. There were two more brothers, Fred, the oldest, and Edsel, the youngest. Both played musical instruments and were wood carvers and dulcimer makers. Boyd Owenby and Bill Creasman were two funny men. They traveled all over the county performing in their own vaudeville show. They were very good tap dancers, and joke tellers, and every time you went to see them you came away laughing. Another talented person was Roy Bogan, who would eat glass and swallow fire. He performed in talent shows around the county. Bill McElreath, probably the best buck dancer in Western North Carolina, could also take an ordinary handsaw and make some of the most beautiful music you ever heard. Another talented group was known as the Swannanoa Quartet. This group consisted of Hosey Shook, Oval Shook, Zinnie Hall (and later Mitch Rhymer) and Emory Whitaker. They sang at almost all the funerals, and someone once said if the Swannanoa Quartet didn’t sing, you didn’t have a proper funeral. All these talented people worked in the Mill and performed on the side for their own enjoyment, as well as that of their neighbors and coworkers. I’m sure none of them ever received much, if any, money for their performances. I’m almost positive if you would go back to Swannanoa today, find a nice quiet spot and listen real carefully, you could hear The Swannanoa Quartet with Oval Shook’s deep bass voice, singing “Precious Memories” and “Farther Along” , and Marcus Martin playing his fiddle as no one else could.

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Wade Martin with figurine

Marcus Martin Old Timey NC Fiddler

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Swannanoa Quartet: Zennie Hall, Hosey Shook, Emory Whitaker, and Oval Shook

Bill McElreath

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Slipping into School “How beautiful is youth! How bright it gleams wth its illusions, aspirations, dreams” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Many people have been accused of slipping out of school, but not many have been accused of slipping into school. Winters were rough in the mountains, and we missed much school because of bad weather. Although the kids in the Village could walk to school, many out in the country had no way of getting to school except on the school bus, which didn’t run when we had big snows. Every big snow gave the kids in the Village a chance to go down to the school, crawl in the gymnasium window, and play basketball all day. The custodian lived directly behind the school, and although he couldn’t help but see us, he would turn his back and let us play. We would stay until dark, and since the principal’s office was in the new building, he never bothered us either. We spent many happy days in the old gym playing basketball, keeping out of mischief. These practices helped us hone our skills for the times we would play for the high school and Beacon. My freshman year I went out for the football team. We had to dress in the old building and walk all the way past the new building to the football field. One day I was going to practice and the girls were practicing softball between the two buildings. One of the girls that I was sweet on was playing in the outfield and someone hit a ball to her. We both jumped up for the ball at the same time. I came down awkwardly, and broke my left arm. It was a bad break and they took me to Dr. Buckner, who sent me on to Asheville to have it set. This ended my football career for that year, but I sure did get a lot of attention from the girls, wanting to sign my cast and offering sympathy.

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Good News, Bad News “Beware of him that telleth tall tales.” Anon One year Kenny thought he had had enough of Swannanoa School, so he decided to quit and go to another school in the county. He had a girl there that he liked, and wanted to play basketball for this school. He told Mr. Howell what he was going to do. The only problem was, he hadn’t told Daddy. When he did tell him, Daddy told Kenny to march himself right back to school and tell Professor Howell he had changed his mind and was going to stay at Swannanoa School. He did this and Mr. Howell said, “Kenny, you are going to have to make up your mind what you are going to do.” Kenny said, “I had my mind made up but Daddy changed it.” There was one class that almost didn’t get its class rings one year. They had elected their class officers as juniors and when it came time to order their class rings they gave all their ring money to the boy they had elected treasurer. The rings were about twenty dollars apiece and there were about thirty-five seniors. The rings were to be shipped C.O.D. in care of the school. When they came in, the post office called Mr. Howell and told him to send someone with the money to pick up the rings. Some of the treasurer’s friends overheard the conversation and offered to drive him up to the post office at the Station. When they got there and started to get out of the car, the treasurer said, “Boys, I’ve got some bad news for you.” They said, “What’s that?” He said, “I don’t have the ring money, I’ve spent it.” Of course the boys panicked, and dreaded to go back to school and tell the rest of the class. They were mad at the treasurer, as they had a right to be. Fortunately, after a lot of negotiating by the other class officers, the boy’s family covered the shortage, and in a few weeks everyone had their rings. This just happened to be Kenny’s graduating class.

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McCormick Field Dreams “I keep each olden, golden dream to myself.” Gene Mills I have loved sports all my life. I very seldom missed a game at the ball ground when Beacon played. While I was still in elementary school, I could name every player on every major league baseball team, what position they played, and whether they batted left or right-handed. Asheville had a professional baseball team called the Tourists that played in the old Piedmont League with Charlotte, Durham, Richmond, Portsmouth, Norfolk, Knoxville and Winston-Salem. They played all their games in the afternoons, and I would turn on the radio to listen to Bob Bingham broadcast the games on WWNC. The sponsor for the broadcast was Kellogg’s and they would start the broadcast with a jingle that said, “Play ball, play ball, now the baseball game is just about to start.” I spent many happy hours with my head close to that old radio, and could never understand why everybody didn’t like sports as much as I did. I knew all the players on the Tourists’ team and what position they played. I still have baseball cards from the twenties and thirties today, and when I take them out and look at them they bring back some wonderful memories. I didn’t get to go to McCormick Field in Asheville many times to see the Tourists play as a youngster. I didn’t have anyone to take me, as Daddy didn’t care anything about sports and wondered why I did. But many years later I would have some quality times with my son, Gary, in that old ball park, with its wooden bleachers and bushes and trees substituting for a fence around the outfield. This was a most beautiful setting for a baseball game. We spent many happy days and nights there together rooting for our Tourists, and seeing many of our 59

GENE MILLS favorite players make it to the major leagues. I like to think Gary enjoyed this as much as I did. I wanted to make sure he didn’t miss some of the things I had missed at his age. This is where he learned to love sports. We would talk sports on the way to the games, and coming home from the games. We would play catch in the yard at home. He played Little League and I was his coach. This was a very, very important time in my life, a time that I will never forget. After all these years and across the many miles that separate us, I still have some very fond memories of taking Gary to that beautiful old ball park. McCormick Field is still a very special place to both of us.

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No Pats on Back “There is always something good we can say about everyone.” Gene Mills I never got many compliments from my parents concerning my schoolwork, or pats on the back for my accomplishments as an athlete. I was always an above average student, Vice President of my senior class, in many school plays and various other activities, and I thought a very good basketball player. I even got a certificate one year in Elementary school for being neither tardy nor absent. Quite a feat, I thought, since I had to walk a mile to school every day. When I brought the certificate home, no one seemed to be impressed. I was never told that I was doing a good job or bragged on in any way. Everything I did, according to my parents, I could have and should have done better. Mother would come to a few of my basketball games, but I doubt if Daddy saw me play a half dozen times in high school, college, or later when I was playing for Beacon. Things that were important to me were not important to them. The thought of this followed me all my life, and is probably responsible for some of my many hang-ups today. Everyone likes to be told from time to time that he is doing a good job, or that your parents are proud of you, but I was never told that. I know they loved me in their own special way, but they came from another time and another place, and didn’t know how to talk to a teenager and make him feel like he was important. I know, too, that I wasn’t the easiest person in the world to get along with at times. In later years Daddy was real proud of his three boys, but I always felt he was disappointed that one of us didn’t end up in The Mill. To have had one of us to end up as a supervisor there would have been his idea of success. I was never really close to my Dad growing up. He was very religious and enjoyed being in church more than anything else in life. He was a hard working man. Many times he would work two shifts at The Mill to get extra 61

GENE MILLS money. It wasn’t that we were that hard up for money, but working in The Mill and going to church were his top priorities. He loved his family, and wanted the best for us. He had very little formal education, but as I would find out many years later, he was a very smart man. He was one of the most honest persons I ever knew. He loved my mother with all his heart. He was always helping her with the housework, and would do anything she asked him to do to make her happy. As a teenager, I always thought I knew more about some things than he did. He never went with any of his three boys to any sporting events while we were growing up. He always went to bed before any of the rest of the family, and was the first one to get up in the morning. His work was important to him. I always thought he had a fear of letting his family down, and this must have been why he worked so hard, seldom missing any days in his forty plus years in The Mill. I remember when I joined the Navy how much I missed him, and how sorry I was that I hadn’t tried to be closer to him when I had the opportunity. When I came back home, I decided that I would try to make up for some of our lack of communication and understanding. After I was married and started raising my family, I became very close to him. I finally realized after all these years what the term “family man” really meant. I’m a lot like him in many ways, not in the religious part, but he taught me to be honest and respect other people’s property. He was liked by all who knew him, always laughing and joking. In his later years he was fun to be around. He never met a stranger. His grandchildren adored him. He lived a full and productive life, and enjoyed good health most of the time. He loved his family without reservation. I admired him more than any man I ever knew. He was a devout Christian. He was never intimidated by anyone, regardless of their social status. I still miss him even today, and probably will as long as I live. When someone tells me I’m just like my Dad, they have paid me the highest compliment anyone could receive. Mother was different from Daddy in many ways. She was the one we always went to for money to go to the 62

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movies and other things boys do. She would come to our ball games and always tried to attend other special events we were involved in at school. She would welcome our friends when we brought them to our house. She was always sure we had nice clothes to wear, especially after we were in high school. A lady told her one time that her boys were among the best dressed at Swannanoa High School. This made her very proud. She was a very independent woman, and you always knew where you stood with her. She was active in her church, singing in the choir for several years. She worked hard in The Mill all the years we were growing up. She would come home tired, but always had us a good meal on the table. We all knew she loved us in her own way. We would all go to her for advice, not always getting the answer we were looking for, but at least getting an answer. She was always a good mother, and did the best she could, working eight hours in The Mill every day and keeping a house going. Taking care of three boys was no easy task. We all appreciated and respected her, and we thank her even today for what she did under difficult circumstances.

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Grocery Boy and Coot “After all there is only one race — Humanity.” Moore There was no such thing as parents giving their children allowances in those days. If we had money to spend, we worked for it. When I became a teenager I usually worked summers in The Mill, and when school started back, I worked in J.W. Parks’ grocery store. I went to work right after school was out on Friday and worked until nine o’clock, then came back Saturday morning at eight o’clock and worked until nine o’clock Saturday night. My pay was three dollars, one dollar for Friday and two dollars for Saturday. Mr. Parks had most of the grocery business at the Station, and sold coal and kerosene. Several schoolboys and a few Mill workers worked part-time for Mr. Parks. Friday and Saturday afternoons his wife would come in, supposedly to help us get through the rush hour. She caused a lot of confusion by trying to wait on about three customers at a time, with groceries all over the counter. When someone came in the store, even though she was busy with three others, she would say, “Be with you in just a minute.” We were all glad when she went back home to cook Mr. Parks’ supper! This was before supermarkets, of course, and every customer was waited on individually. Most Mill people bought their groceries on credit every week. Mr. Parks would cash their checks on Friday, taking out what they owed him. They would come straight back up to the counter, find a clerk, and charge their groceries again. They never got out of debt to Mr. Parks, and of course, that was the way he wanted it. The customers gave their grocery lists to the clerk. He went all over the store and brought the groceries back to the counter, where the items were placed in bags or boxes. We even delivered groceries for people without cars, and also went to the houses in the Village and took their orders, came back to the store, filled the order, and then delivered the groceries back to the house. 64

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My job was mostly clerking, but sometimes I took orders and made deliveries. There was an old black man named Coot Davidson who hung around the store. He did odd jobs, such as kill chickens to sell in the store, go across to the coal yard and get bags of coal for customers, and occasionally went with me to make deliveries. Coot was illiterate. I would try to teach him to read the signs along the road, but after awhile I stopped trying. Sometimes I could see the humiliation and anger on his face, and I felt so sorry for him. Coot didn’t have much to say except ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir.’ I looked at this man sitting beside me, close enough to touch him, both of us living in the same community, yet worlds apart. I looked into his sad, empty eyes as we made deliveries, wondering what was in this tired old man’s mind. I tried to put myself in his place, but couldn’t even begin to know how he lived. We didn’t have much, but we were blessed beyond words, compared to Coot. I helped him in any way I could. Imagine, if you can, a man in his seventies saying ‘yes sir’ and ‘no sir’ to a teenage boy, depending on other people to take care of his every need. One night Coot was walking home from the Station. He was on the main highway and a car hit him. He died a few days later, a pauper. This all happened while I was in the Navy, and I never saw Coot again after my teenage years. When I heard of his death I thought of the times we had spent together delivering groceries in that old truck. I thought of his sad old wrinkled face, his empty eyes, and I knew then that Coot was finally at peace. Coot Davidson 65

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Soda Jerk “Whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well.” Smith I worked for Mr. Parks for a couple of years, then was offered a soda jerk’s job in Ward’s Drug Store. Doc Ward told me if I would come work for him full-time when school was out that summer, he would pay me thirteen dollars a week. This was more money than I had ever made in my life, and I jumped at the opportunity. Ward’s Drug Store was a busy place, the only drugstore between Black Mountain and Oteen. They filled many prescriptions, did a good soda fountain business, and were open seven days a week. We had two pharmacists, Doc Ward and Doc Crawford. We had four soda jerks, who took turns working with either of the pharmacists, two of us to a shift. I did work mostly with Doc Ward, though, and he would show me how to fill prescriptions. I was fascinated by what he did. One thing I remember was the way we would handle feminine hygiene items. We usually got our merchandise from the wholesaler on Thursday. The first thing we did was get all the sanitary napkins, wrap each box in brown paper and put it back on the shelves. This way the ladies could get it themselves instead of having to ask at the counter. I wondered if it ever occurred to them who had wrapped those boxes? Both Doc Ward and Doc Crawford were excellent pharmacists. They were from the old school, and knew everything there was to know about filling prescriptions. Doc Crawford lived in Black Mountain, but we all considered him a part of Swannanoa. Doc Ward lived about two miles from the Station, and when he wasn’t at the drug store, he would do a little farming. He was a very active man although he was stricken several years earlier with Polio. Ward’s Drug Store wasn’t a place for the school kids to hang out, but is was more or less an adult hangout. Many of the merchants and The Mill people did their visiting in and around Ward’s Drug Store. 66

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A Very Special Place “Youth comes but once in a lifetime.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow SISK’S - WHERE EVERYONE MEETS ... These were the only words ‘Doc’ Sisk ever used in his advertising. His business was a combination soda shop and bus station, where every kid in Swannanoa hung out after school. We worked only on Fridays and Saturdays during the school year and most of our spare time was spent at Sisk’s. The whole Sisk family worked there, ‘Doc’ and Mrs. Sisk and their three children, Jim, Bobby and Betty. They lived in Asheville and would open up early in the morning and stay open until the last bus left the Station after the second shift got off at The Mill. Sisk’s was the most popular place in Swannanoa for the high school kids to hang out. In those days several Trailways buses a day would run between Asheville and Black Mountain, bringing in even more business. After every basketball or football game, everyone would say, “Meet you at Sisk’s.” A coal burning stove heated the store, and the boys were responsible for keeping plenty of coal in the stove. If the fire got low ‘Doc’ would say, “OK, Fat, or Leroy, or Jay Lynn, or Bill, or Kenny,” or whoever happened to be there that night, “go get some coal”, and they would go get the coal and this is one chore ‘Doc’ didn’t have to worry about. One night the boys were all gathered around the old stove talking and having fun and ‘Doc’ came back and said, “All you boys are doing is sitting here talking, using my coal and not buying anything.” The very next night Fat Carroll came unto the store carrying a bucket of coal he had brought from home. The kids still didn’t buy anything, but ‘Doc’ smiled, he had made his point. Sisk’s was located beside the Roxy Theater, and we would be there before and after the show. The place was always full of people, and in the summer time everyone 67

GENE MILLS would congregate outside, along The Mill fence on the other side of the street and many would be there until closing time. I always enjoyed talking to ‘Doc’, and considered him among my many friends. He was not a pharmacist, but we all called him ‘Doc’. Mrs. Sisk was a nice lady, always laughing and joking. It was a fun place to be. It felt good to be a part of this special place. Betty later became a missionary, and the two boys stayed around Asheville. It was a sad day for many people when ‘Doc’ decided to close up and retire. Although the doors were closed and the lights were off, the memories of those carefree days were etched in our minds forever, and we surely did miss Sisk’s, where everyone truly did meet for many years. This was a great loss for all of us, and Swannanoa would never be the same again without Sisk’s. But, thankfully, we do have the wonderful memories of Sisk’s, and no one can take that away from us. This was a once in a lifetime experience.

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My Friend Drowsy “If a man is worth knowing at all he is worth knowing well.” Smith Everyone called him Drowsy. His name was really J.D. Hardin, but no one ever called him that. I probably spent more time around Drowsy during my last two years in high school than any other person. Drowsy was older than me, and in fact, at this time was married and had three children. He was always a sharp dresser, and always looked nice. He was the player coach on the basketball team when I played for Beacon. We played in sort of a semi-pro league in and around Asheville. The Mill paid for our uniforms, balls and entry fees to the league we were playing. They gave the money to Drowsy, and then he would disburse it as he saw fit. One year we were invited to play in the Southern Textile Tournament in Greenville, South Carolina. Drowsy told us The Mill would pay our hotel bill, but we would be responsible for our own meals. We were just happy to get to stay in a hotel for a week and have a little fun. We won the tournament championship that year, and were all very proud when we brought that trophy back to Swannanoa. One of our favorite places to eat in Asheville was Tingle’s, one of the nicest restaurants in town. One time a bunch of us went in there to eat after a ball game, and after the meal Drowsy decided he wanted some pie for dessert. He told the waitress to bring him a piece of apple pie. She said, “Do you want that a la mode, sir?” Drowsy said, “Hell no, I want ice cream on it.” Drowsy only had one eye. He lost it when he wasa youngster, boxing. One night we were playing a very important league game and, of course, Drowsy was the player coach. The 69

GENE MILLS game was tied with about a minute to play and Drowsy was not in the game. He called time out and told Alger Rainwater to take a seat on the bench, that he was coming in for him. Rainwater asked why he was being taken out, and Drowsy said, “I’m coming in for you because we don’t want to take a chance on losing this game.” When play resumed, it was our ball out of bounds. I threw the ball in to Drowsy and as he was dribbling the ball up court someone came up on his blind side, stole the ball, scored, and we lost the game by two points. After the game Drowsy said, “You boys lost that game in the first half.” I had many good times with Drowsy over the years. He was a lot of fun to be around. He loved sports, and had been a very good pitcher on The Mill baseball team in his younger days. When he stopped playing, he began to referee football and basketball games, and umpire baseball games. Once early spring he was umpiring a baseball game. It was very cold, and along about the second inning, Drowsy called the game because it was too cold. The visiting manager questioned his judgment, that it was too cold to play. Drowsy said, “What the hell are you talking about, fella? It’s colder than a welldigger’s ass in the Klondike.” He walked off the field without saying another word. I heard him use this phrase many, many times in later years and I always got a laugh out of it. Drowsy Hardin was then, and is now, a very good friend of mine. Some of the things I did with Drowsy will remain with me as long as I live. My memories of him will last a lifetime, and I’m glad I was fortunate enough to have known him. He had a unique personality and a good sense of humor. He never met a stranger, and was just as comfortable talking to a college professor as he was talking to a mill worker. It’s a shame Drowsy didn’t have the opportunity to achieve his lifetime dream of being a coach or athletic director for a high school or college. He would have made a huge impact on many young lives because of his personality and love of sports. He was one of a kind, and when the Lord made him, he threw the pattern away. There will never be another Drowsy Hardin. 70

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Henry Gibbs, a Unique Person “Man is the only creature endowed with the power of laughter.” Greville The L & N Barber Shop was located on Whitson Street, across the street from The Mill, between the Swannanoa Bank and Trust Company and the Home Store, a grocery store owned by The Mill. The Barber Shop was my favorite place to visit when I was a teenager. The reason I enjoyed going there so much was because of one man, Henry Gibbs. Henry was a barber at the L & N, but he was also a very gifted sign painter. Every store at the Station had the name of their business painted on the window by Henry Gibbs. He also did the sign painting for The Mill. I couldn’t figure out whether Henry was a full-time barber and a part-time sign painter or a part-time barber and a full-time sign painter. One thing I did know, though, he was a full-time story teller. He had a story for every situation, and he could tell them on the spur of the moment, not missing a lick cutting hair, although he did have to go in the back every once in awhile to take a little shot, if you know what I mean. Some of the best stories I ever heard were told by Henry Gibbs at the L & N Barber Shop in Swannanoa. I would go in there whether I needed a haircut or not just to hear these stories. Since I enjoyed them so much I wanted to write then down for others to enjoy. I know I can’t do them justice, or tell them like he did, but maybe by doing this they will stay with us a little longer. Henry was raised in Nebo, North Carolina, a small community between Marion and Old Fort in McDowell County. When he was about twenty years old he moved down to Old Fort. The first Sunday in town he decided to go to Sunday School at the Methodist Church. For some reason he went into the old men’s class where the teacher was teaching the lesson about who led the Israelites out of Egypt. The teacher asked the question a couple of times, and got no response from his class. Finally, the teacher 71

GENE MILLS repeated the question for the third time, “Who led the Israelites out of Egypt?” An old gentleman turned around and looked down over his glasses at Henry, and Henry threw up his hands and said, “Hell, it wasn’t me, mister. I just moved down here from Nebo last week.” Henry’s brother had been very sick, near the point of death. A man came into the barber shop one day and said, “Henry, how is your brother doing?” Henry replied, “Well, yesterday we thought he wasn’t going to need but one more white shirt, but today he’s doing much better.” Henry’s little boy came into the barber shop one day crying. Henry said, “Son, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” His son said, “A boy jumped on me on the way home from school. He’s twelve years old, and I’m only ten. He beat me up.” Henry said, “Let me tell you something, son, age has nothing to do with it. I whipped a man one time who was ninety-nine years old, and I believe I could have whipped him if he’d been a hundred.” Red Ayers came into the barber shop one day to get a haircut. Now Red had a full head of bright red hair. He got up in the chair, and while Henry was putting the cloth over Red he said, “You know, Red, I would rather cut two black headed men’s hair any day than to cut one red head.” Red jerked the cloth off and started to get out of the chair and said, “If that’s the way you feel about it, I’ll just go up to Bill Ammons’ shop and get my hair cut.” Henry said, “No, no, Red, you don’t understand what I’m saying. You see, I get twice as much for cutting two black headed men’s hair than I do for cutting one red head!” Henry was a man who liked to drink a little, and one Sunday he had been doing just that. He sobered up enough to go to Church. Now it seems the preacher had taken a trip that day to Mount Mitchell. He started off his sermon by saying, “I guess I’ve been higher than anyone else in the congregation today.” Henry leaned over to the person sitting beside him and said, “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Every Friday was payday at The Mill and everyone knew this was the day the Salvation Army lady would come to the Station to ask for money. She would always carry a tambourine with her and that is what she would go around taking up her money in. 72

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She came into the barber shop one day with her tambourine about half full of money. She held the tambourine over to Henry for a donation, and Henry said, “No thank you Ma’am, I can’t take anything. I’ll get by some way.” She said, “I didn’t mean for you to take anything, I want you to put something in.” A group of men were sitting around in the barber shop one day talking, and, of course, they finally got on the subject of weather. They were talking about how much hotter it got these days than it did years ago. Henry said, “I know why it gets so much hotter than it used to.” A fella said, “Why is that, Henry? Why does it get so hot these days?” Henry said, “It’s that damn thermometer out there.” He said, “You watch it. Every time that little red thing in that thermometer goes up it gets hot.” Another day they were talking, and it started pouring down rain outside. One man said, “Boy, it sure is raining out there. That’s about as hard as I’ve seen it rain in a long time.” Henry said, “Yes, but it’s not raining in here, you think this roof may be the reason?” Charles Stanton was proud of his six-month old grandson. One day he was bragging on his little grandson, and was telling his friends what all he could do and he said, “You can hold him up to the mirror and he will laugh and wonder who that is in the mirror.” Henry said, “He must be awfully dumb. Mine knows who he is.” One evening Henry and his wife invited some friends home for dinner. After the meal they all went in the living room to talk. The evening wore on, they were running out of anything to talk about, and the guests were making no move to go home. Finally, Henry saw they were not going to leave any time soon, and he had to go to work the next morning. He turned to his wife and said, “Honey, maybe we ought to go to bed, these people might want to go home.” Henry died much too soon. I know he had a lot more stories to tell. I just wish I could recall more of them. If you went into the barber shop feeling bad, you always came out feeling better because of the wit of Henry Gibbs. I’m glad he left Nebo and Old Fort and decided to come to Swannanoa, and I’m glad I was fortunate enough to have known him. 73

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A Troubled Man “Judge not any man lest you walk in his shoes.” Anon Every mill town in those days had people who wouldn’t touch a drop during the week, but when Friday afternoon came it was a different story. You would see some people drinking that would surprise you, because it might be your next door neighbor. But they never bothered anyone; This was their way of relaxing and having a little fun after a hard week in The Mill. Some, however, were not only weekend drinkers, but also weekday drinkers. Willie Ballard was as much a part of the Swannanoa I knew as any other person. Willie was the town drunk, the first drunk I ever saw. Almost every weekend and sometimes during the week he would go on a binge. I have seen him drunk at the Station, and Jim Early, the town policeman, out looking for him. Willie would come into the barber shop, get into the chair, put a towel over his face like he was getting a shave, and Jim would come in, look around and walk out. Somehow I felt that Jim knew that was Willie under the towel in the barber chair. Some of the worst fist fights I ever saw involved Willie Ballard. One Saturday night in particular he and Bill McPeters got in a fight in front of the Roxy Theater. Blood was all over the sidewalk, and finally Jim Early came, broke up the fight and took them both away. In a few days they were friends again and all was forgotten. When the war broke out Willie was among the first from Swannanoa to join the Marines. When he came home on leave he looked so good in his uniform. Everyone was proud of him and thought maybe his life was getting better, but after a few months he was discharged and resumed his old ways. He was one of the best cooks in the area, and had worked for about every cafe that had ever been in Swannanoa. He never married and lived with his sister all his life. Several years after the war ended, Willie was still drinking, and one night while on a binge he fell under a freight train, lost a leg and died a short time later. 74

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1941 Chevrolet Special Deluxe “It wasn’t just a car it was a precious jewel.” Gene Mills James Parks was, among several other things, a car salesman. He sold for McMurray Chevrolet Company in Black Mountain. In those days car salesmen actually came to your house to try and sell you a car. He had been after Daddy for several months to buy a car. The new models had just come out, and Daddy told James he would buy a new Chevrolet if he could get the payments at twentyfive dollars per month. Daddy had owned several cars by 1941, but he had never owned a new one. James came back in a few days and said the bank had approved the loan and the payments would be what Daddy wanted. Daddy bought a brand new 1941 Chevrolet Special Deluxe, four-door sedan. It was two-tone green, and the most beautiful car we had ever seen. It cost Daddy nine hundred and sixty-three dollars. I’ve never seen anyone as proud as Daddy was about that car. About three days after he bought it, Grandpa came up to our house to see it, and of course, Daddy wanted to take him for a ride. We rode up through the Old Village, and came down Richmond Avenue to where it intersected with Edwards Avenue. Daddy stopped and said to Grandpa, “Get over here under the wheel, Papa, I want you to drive my new car.” Now Grandpa had never driven such a fancy car with the gear shift on the steering column, and was a little reluctant, but Daddy insisted. We were right at my Uncle Charles’ house, and when Daddy had turned the corner and stopped, the wheels were still turned toward the curb. Kenny was in front of the car on his bicycle, and luckily moved in the nick of time. Grandpa stepped down on the accelerator, and we jumped over the curb, knocked down a fence and landed against a locust tree in Uncle Charles’ yard. Daddy was devastated, Grandpa was scared sick, and we were all heartbroken about our new car. Grandpa 75

GENE MILLS offered to have it fixed, but Daddy wouldn’t hear of it. We took the car back to the dealer, and they fixed the dents and scratches, replaced a busted tire, and the car looked as good as new. Daddy admitted a few days later that when the car jumped the curb, he thought he put his foot on the brake to help Grandpa stop, but his foot was on the accelerator instead. The 1941 model car would be the last one made until after the war. That car was in our family longer than any car we ever owned, and Daddy was offered three times what he paid for it during the war, but wouldn’t sell it. All three of us boys enjoyed driving that car. We were so proud that we had one of the nicest cars in Swannanoa. Kenny and Bill did a lot of courting in that two-tone green Chevrolet, and years later Patty and I would drive it on our honeymoon.

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December 7, 1941 “This generation of Americans has a rendezvous with destiny.” Franklin D. Roosevelt On Sunday, December 7, 1941, I went with some of my friends to the Roxy Theater in Swannanoa. When I came out of the theater the first thing I heard was that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor. Neither Swannanoa nor the people who lived there would ever be the same after this day. So many lives were changed and so many of our friends and neighbors would never come back home again from the war that actually began on this day. I didn’t know where Pearl Harbor was, in fact I had never heard of it. I was only fifteen years old. Little did I know on that cold Sunday afternoon that in a few short months I would actually be there. Ward’s Drug Store had the only public telephone at the Station. That night several people went to the drugstore to try and call their sons, husbands, brothers or other relatives that were already at Pearl Harbor. We had several people from Swannanoa that were stationed there. None of them were killed but a few were injured in the attack. The next day when we got to school, Mr. Howell called us all into the auditorium where he had radios set up so we could hear President Franklin D. Roosevelt declare war on Germany and Japan. Our young lives would be changed forever. The draft had already been in effect for some time, and several older men around Swannanoa had been drafted and were in service. Now that the President had declared war, many of the younger men were joining either the Navy, Army, Air Corps or the Marines. My friends were joining up and, although I was only fifteen, I was beginning to get restless and wanted to join too. For such a small town, a large number of boys from Swannanoa were in the armed services during the war, and many of them were either killed in action or wounded. Almost every day during World War II several of our friends 77

GENE MILLS would leave to go serve their country. The town was getting smaller and The Mill was having problems getting enough people to work the three shifts. At that time The Mill was making Army blankets, which was a big part of the war effort for them. Many of the boys who had worked in The Mill were now sleeping under Beacon blankets thousands of miles from home. Some families had more than one son in service and many young married husbands felt the need to go, many never coming back.

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Runaway Boys “In youth we learn, in age we understand.” Eschenbach That summer while school was out, and just before my sixteenth birthday, Guy Lowe, a friend, and I decided we would run away from home and join the Army. We went to the Army recruiting office in Asheville and picked up the papers, came home and signed our father’s names to the papers, and in a few days we were on our way to Fort Jackson, South Carolina. We were two fifteen-year old boys who had no idea what we were getting into and neither of us had a penny in his pocket. I had left a note in our post office box, and my parents would not know of this until someone went to the post office. The recruiting office had given us a train ticket to Fort Jackson, but since we didn’t have any money we didn’t know how we were going to eat on the way down there. Shortly our problem was solved, when a man came through the train selling candy, peanuts, crackers and other things, in a big basket he was carrying. While one of us distracted the man the other was helping himself to the things in his tray. We did this several times on our way down, and it kept us from getting too hungry. In a few hours we knew we were going to get some good Army chow. It turned out this was the most foolish and dangerous thing I had ever done in my life, and I would have nightmares for months. We were at Fort Jackson a few days when the Colonel called us into his office and smilingly said, “What the hell are you boys trying to pull?” He had a telegram in his hands and read it to us. It said, “Stop enlistment of Carl E. Mills and Clayton G. Lowe. Information reveals both are under eighteen years of age.” He said, “Mills, your father sent you a train ticket back to Asheville, but Lowe, you will have to get back the best way you can.” I couldn’t leave Guy, so we decided to do something that even today scares me when I think about it. 79

GENE MILLS Since we didn’t have any money, we only had two choices of how to get back home, hitchhike or catch a freight train. We decided on the latter and we jumped on a freight train in Columbia, South Carolina and hoboed to Spartanburg, where we had to get off the train and hop another one going up the mountain to Asheville. After we got on this train, I didn’t see Guy again until we jumped off the train just outside of Asheville. Naturally, neither of us had ever hopped a freight before, and we had no idea what we were in for. I didn’t see an open boxcar, so I climbed up in a corner under a coal car, hunched down and this is the way I rode the whole trip. I was afraid to move, afraid I might slip and fall under the train, so I just held on for what would be the longest day of my life. I looked down and saw the tracks slipping by, the clickity-clack of the rails under me, a noise and sight that would haunt me for months to come. After we got off the train, we went to my friend’s house and took a bath. I didn’t have any clean clothes to change in to, and I had on the same clothes I had on when I first left Asheville. I left and went home. It was just about time for The Mill people to get off from work and my parents would be home. When I walked into the house I expected a big welcome home. It didn’t happen. If they were glad to see me home they sure had a funny way of showing it. As far as I can remember, no one said anything and there certainly were no welcome home hugs. But things were different when I finally went over to the Station. I was saluted by many of the townspeople and welcomed back home by my friends. It was good to see them, but the desire to go into the service would not and did not go away. I knew then that it was just a matter of time before I would be leaving again.

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Final Days at Swannanoa High School “We must always have old memories and young hopes.” Arsene Houssage In the fall I went back to school for my junior and senior years. As it turned out, these were two of the best years I had at Swannanoa High School. We had a good basketball team, and in addition to playing for the school, I also played for Beacon. It was basketball every night during the winter and I enjoyed it very much. I also discovered another talent that I didn’t know I had and actually found it by accident. In those days if you were absent or late for school you had to have an excuse from Mr. Howell to get back in class. Then each teacher would initial the excuse and you would take it on to the next class. I found out that I could sign Mr. Howell’s name exactly like he could and could also sign the teacher’s initials to look authentic. In those last two years of high school, I probably signed as many excuses as Mr. Howell did. I would meet people in the halls and they would say, “Gene, I need an excuse to get in Mrs. Brown’s class.” I would write them an excuse, and they would go back to class. I never did get caught, nor did I have any teacher ever question one of my excuses. It sure made me popular with all my classmates. These were good days. Everyone was very patriotic, and we even had a scrap metal pile on the front lawn of the school. Everyone would bring scrap metal and pile it on the lawn and pretty soon the pile had grown to an enormous size. It was between the school and US 70 and everyone going up and down the highway would contribute to the pile. We were all proud of our contribution to the war effort. Rationing was a way of life for everyone during the war. Almost everything was rationed, including gasoline, sugar, meat, coffee, and cigarettes, among other things. All the cars had a sticker on the windshield such as A, T or S, and this would indicate how much gas you 81

GENE MILLS could buy in a week. Most of the regular family cars had A stickers and this would let them buy five gallons of gas per week. All the other items that were rationed could be bought with a coupon book that the ration board issued each month. Every time you went to the store, you had to take your rationing book with you. One thing we enjoyed in those days was big band music. This music was at its most popular time in the war years. There were many big bands playing all over the country, live, and in the movies. Some of the most popular ones were Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey, Kay Kyser, Harry James, Sammy Kaye, Benny Goodman and probably the most popular of all, Glenn Miller, who played songs like “The Chattanooga Choo Choo”, “In the Mood”, “Moonlight Serenade”, “Little Brown Jug”, “I’m Getting Sentimental Over You”, and many more. In addition to the radio, movies were the only form of entertainment we had in those days. We all had our favorite stars, Alan Ladd, Spencer Tracy, Humphrey Bogart, Clark Gable, John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Jimmy Stewart, Betty Grable, Joan Crawford, Barbara Stanwyck, June Alyson, Lana Turner, Esther Williams and Bette Davis, to name a few. I worked part time at Ward’s Drug Store, and found out that I had a fascination for the drugstore business. I was very much interested in the prescription filling part of it. I usually worked on the same shift as Doc Ward, and he would usually take me home after we closed. We lived in the Old Village then, and one night when we got in front of my house, Doc turned the car off, and said, ”Gene, there is something I’ve been thinking about for a long time that I want to talk to you about.” He said, “I like the way you have been conducting yourself while you have been working for me, and the interest you have shown in the business. You are one of the finest boys that has ever worked for me and I have a proposition for you to think about. If you are interested, I will send you to the University of North Carolina School of Pharmacy all expenses paid. The only thing I would ask in return is for you to work for me during the summers at the drug store and out on the farm.” 82

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I told him how flattered I was that he would make this offer, and that I certainly would like to think about it, but that I was planning on joining the Navy after my senior year. As it turned out, I never did discuss it with him again after that night. He gave the opportunity to another boy, who graduated from pharmacy school and was a pharmacist for many years. Doc’s son was also a pharmacist. I have wondered so many times how my life would have been changed had I accepted that very generous offer from a man that I admired for so many years, and will remember forever. Another man that I admired and respected all my young life was Fred Davidson. He was postmaster in the mid 1930’s and in later years was in the insurance business. He had said to me many times that he wanted me to try to get the Swannanoa postmaster’s job, and he would help me any way he could. I appreciated this thought very much although I never did go after the job. He was one of the most respected men in Swannanoa, coming from one of the oldest families in the area. He always had a smile on his face, willing to help anyone who needed it. He was a true gentleman in every sense of the word. Also in my senior year I became involved in the Dramatics Club and was in many school plays. Mrs. McMurray, our teacher, always inspired each student to do his or her very best. She always looked tired, but was a good teacher and an excellent librarian. We had several plays each year, and the auditorium would always be full at each performance. We even went on the road with some of our plays. One of our biggest events was taking our cast and putting on a play at Lee Edwards High School in Asheville. A mill town school going to the big city to perform. We were a big hit and were invited back, which made us all proud. I also was involved in our school newspaper, “The Swan”, which at that time was one of the largest, and best school newspapers in the state. Mrs. Ivy Brown, our English teacher, was our advisor and was also responsible for our paper’s success. Mrs. Brown was a short, neat little lady. She wore a brownish red wig that would 83

GENE MILLS sometimes get crooked on her head when the kids got unruly or things were not going right with her class or with “The Swan”. She was a transplanted Canadian, and one of the best teachers at our school. This is also the year I began to notice a shy little country girl named Patty Banner. We had gone to the Methodist church together for years. She was in one of my classes at school, and I would flirt with her, but had never dated her. When graduation time came for me, and we were marching down the aisle in the auditorium, Patty was at the piano playing “Pomp and Circumstance”. Little did I know then that in a few short years she would become my wife. I was Vice President of my graduating class. I had so many good friends in this class, some since first grade, but after this special night, I would never see some of them again. I was only the second person in the entire Mills family to graduate from high school. My cousin, Winfred Mills, was the first. In years to come there would be many more.

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I’m In the Navy Now “Anchors aweigh, my boys, Anchors aweigh, we sail at break of day.” About two weeks after we graduated, Charley Johnson, a friend of mine and I decided it was time to join the Navy. I had wanted to join for so long, and now that I was out of high school it was time to go. Charley and I went to the recruiting office in Asheville to sign up. The recruiter told us that since we were such good friends he would let us go in together. We would at least be together through boot camp, and possibly for our entire enlistment. As it happened, they called me about a week later and told me to report to the recruiting office, and be prepared to leave immediately. They sent me to Camp Peary, near Williamsburg, Virginia, for basic training. About a month later they called Charley, and he was sent to Great Lakes, Illinois, for his basic training. After we joined the Navy, I didn’t see Charley again until about a year after the war was over. After basic training was over, I was given a ten day leave. It was good to be home, and especially good to go down to the school to see everyone, although many of my friends were not there any more. I would go over to the Station, and was proud of being in the Navy and wearing my dress blues with my little sailor’s cap sitting on the back of my head. This is what I had wanted for so long, and I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. After my leave was over I was to report back to OGU, which meant “Out Going Unit” in Norfolk, Virginia, where I would get my next assignment. I was assigned to a Destroyer Escort, the “USS Bates”, and the day I boarded that ship was the first time I had ever seen the ocean. We sailed from Norfolk, Virginia, and went down through the Panama Canal, up the California Coast to San Francisco, and finally to Hawaii and Pearl Harbor. I remember thinking as we came into Pearl Harbor, that just a few 85

GENE MILLS short years ago a most cowardly and sneaky attack by the Japanese had almost destroyed this beautiful place, the most beautiful place I had ever seen. Hundreds had died here, several ships and planes lost, and there was other destruction all over the island. The Japanese didn’t know what they were in for. They would regret this attack for years to come. After a few weeks at Pearl Harbor, several of us were transferred off the Bates and assigned to a Sub Chaser, PC 779, which would be our home for the next several months. The Bates left Pearl Harbor going into the South Pacific and the war zone and two months later was sunk. I never heard from some of the friends I had made on the Bates, and never knew what happened to them. I started writing to Patty and we corresponded all the time I was in the Navy. We had still never dated, but I decided while I was overseas that I would try to start a relationship when I got back home.

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Going Into the War Zone “War never leaves where it found a nation.” Burke We left Pearl Harbor on a Sunday morning in 1945, having no idea where we were going. Our first stop was Guam in the Marianas Islands. Then we went on to Saipan and this was where we found out we were going to escort the convoy of ships that was going to invade Iwo Jima. Of course, none of us had ever heard of a place called Iwo Jima, but in a few short weeks it would become a place and a name that we would never forget. The convoy of ships and men were being assembled in Saipan, but we didn’t know at this time when the invasion would actually take place. I couldn’t believe the number of ships that were in this place, and I knew that this was going to be something big. When everything was in place we finally got our orders to move out and head toward Iwo Jima. Our ship was one of those in front of the convoy. It was February, 1945, and in the next few days I was to see some of the roughest water that I had ever seen. It got so rough at times you thought the ship would break in two, and you could hardly see the ship beside you. There was always the threat of Japanese aircraft, ships and submarines. I had never been so scared in my life. When we finally got there, I was amazed at how small this island was. It was only five miles long and two and a half miles wide at its widest point. It was only supposed to take a few days for us to take the island, but it turned out to be a long and costly battle. More than five thousand Marines gave their lives to capture eight square miles from the Japanese. Before this little volcanic island in the northwestern Pacific Ocean was captured, Japanese fighter planes had attacked American bombers from here. After the Marines had secured the island, our fighter planes used the air strips to protect our bombers flying from Saipan and Tinian to Japan. 87

GENE MILLS On one end of the island was a 546 foot mountain called Mount Suribachi. The soil of the island is a gray volcanic ash. It was soft enough for the Japanese defending Iwo Jima to dig extensive underground fortifications. It was a terrible battle. We could see the flame throwers, hear the blasts of the guns, and actually see some of the fighting going on a few hundred yards from our ship. Everyone was told the fighting would not be too hard, and capturing the island would not be too difficult. Our planes had been bombing the island for days prior to the invasion. But it was a bloody and costly fight. Our ship, along with several others, left Iwo Jima on Easter Sunday and went back to Saipan for a few days, for rest and relaxation, and to take on supplies. After a few weeks, we went back to Iwo Jima and by this time the island was secured. We went ashore and we were allowed to go into the underground caves the Japanese had dug. I was amazed at what they had done underground. They had complete headquarters here and our bombings hadn’t seemed to bother them too much. We also went up on top of Mount Suribachi. We saw the cemetery where the Marines of the Third, Fourth, and Fifth divisions were buried. As I looked at all these markers, I thought what a waste. You never knew who could be laying here. Maybe someone who would have discovered the cure for cancer, or could have been President of the United States. We will never know, of course, but a lot of brave men lost their lives on Iwo Jima in February and March, 1945. One of the things I will always remember is being on that ship, hearing the noise of battle, and knowing some of the guys I had seen at Saipan, were over there fighting for their lives. We looked toward the island again a little later and saw the American flag flying on Mount Suribachi. It was raised by six Marines in the heat of battle. Someone took a picture of the flag raising and it was considered the best picture to come out of World War II. A statue based on the photo was later erected in Washington, DC. The picture, displayed all over the country, was used in fund-raising drives for the war effort. 88

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After we left Iwo Jima, we spent the next few months patrolling between Saipan and Okinawa, where we would occasionally pick up downed airmen. We would encounter enemy submarines and aircraft. One night, on one of our trips up near Okinawa, we sank a Japanese Sub. We saw several Japanese suicide planes attack some of our destroyers and battleships. They would fly directly into the ships without any regard for their own lives. Several were shot down, but many hit their targets. Our ship was never attacked by these planes, as we were too small, and they were after the larger ships. On one of our trips back to Saipan, I noticed as we pulled into the harbor, the destroyerUSS Wilson. I realized this was the ship my cousin, Claude, was on. I signaled over to the Wilson inquiring about Claude, and told them which ship I was on, asking if he could come over to see me. They said they would check, and that night Claude came over in a small boat from his ship.We had a long visit, talking about home and family. Here we were thousands of miles from home, and just by accident we had run into each other. It was good to see him, but after he left, I had a little trouble with homesickness, which soon passed due to our busy schedule. While I was at Saipan, President Franklin D. Roosevelt died in Warm Springs, Georgia. He was the only President I had ever known. He served as President longer than any other man in history. He had gotten the country moving again after the Depression, and was the most popular President in US history. The country was saddened by his death, but we all felt the groundwork had been laid for a quick end to the war. He was succeeded by his Vice President, a former Senator from Missouri, Harry Truman, who in a few short months would make a decision that would rock the world and end the war. While we were at Saipan, we would see hundreds of B29 Bombers on their way to bomb Japan. Iwo Jima had become a very important place for our Bombers to land on their way back from their missions in Japan, and played a very important part in ending the war. 89

GENE MILLS We didn’t know it at the time, but we saw the Enola Gay leave Saipan, with a weapon on board that few people knew about, but would change how wars would be fought forever. President Truman had ordered the dropping of the atomic bomb on two Japanese cities. The world had never seen such destruction, and life as we knew it would never be the same again. Although many lives were lost in these bombings, many were also saved because we had been told the next place we were going was to invade Japan, and this would mean many thousands of American and Japanese would die in this invasion. After the bomb was dropped the Japanese surrendered aboard the USS Missouri. The surrender was accepted by General Douglas MacArthur, one of the most popular generals of World War II, who had played an important part in defeating Japan. He had been in the Philippines, Bataan and Corrigidor. The long occupation of Japan began, and our ship was headed back to Pearl Harbor. On our way back we stopped at Guam, Wake Island and Eniwetok. The war was now behind us and we all knew it was just a matter of time before we would all be home.

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Heading Back to the States “The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family.” Thomas Jefferson We finally got to Pearl Harbor, and had several days of good liberty in Honolulu. The weather was beautiful and it was fun to be there, but we were all anxious to head back to the States. We came back to San Diego, California, and I remember seeing all the welcome home signs as we came into the harbor. It was a nice feeling and it was good to be back in the States again. We stayed in San Diego several weeks and then we were told we were going to take our ship back to the east coast. This meant we were going through the Panama Canal again and I could say I had been through the canal both ways. This was a good experience, and I was glad I had this once in a lifetime opportunity. Finally, we were told to take our ship to Green Cove Springs, Florida on the St. Johns River, to be put in “moth balls.” This was a web like material that was to preserve the ships for years to come. While I was there, my parents and Kenny and Bill came down to visit me for one weekend. This was the first time we had ever been on vacation together, and as far as I can remember the first time we had all eaten in a restaurant together. We went to Silver Springs and several other places, and after a nice visit they left me in Jacksonville and headed back to Swannanoa. It had been a good visit and it had been wonderful seeing them. After they left, I began to feel homesick again. In a few short weeks after they left, I got what would be my last leave from the Navy. I was granted a ten day leave and I was really looking forward to getting back to Swannanoa and seeing family and friends. I was to leave Jacksonville by train early on Sunday morning and arrive in Asheville that evening. We arrived just outside Columbia, South Carolina and the train derailed. We were 91

GENE MILLS delayed several hours, and finally they transferred us on to buses to finish our trip. I wired my parents and told them about the accident and about what time I would arrive in Asheville. It was late when I finally got there, and my family was all there to meet the bus. It had been a long day and I was glad it was finally over. I had a lot of fun in the short time I was home. It was good to see familiar faces. School was out, so I didn’t get to visit it, but I did see some of my aunts and uncles and a lot of people in the Village and over at the Station. One of my former teachers, Mrs. Eula Croy and her husband Sidney invited Kenny, Bill and me to their house for dinner one night. They were both important members of our church, and Sidney was paymaster at The Mill for many years. This invitation was quite unexpected but we all had a good time. Far too soon my leave was over and it was time to report back to Green Cove Springs. At least I didn’t have to worry about going overseas again, and the leave time around Jacksonville would be good. In a few weeks our ship had been put into “mothballs” and we were to be transferred off our ship and given new assignments. I was told to report to the Charleston, South Carolina Naval Base, where I would spend the last few months of my enlistment. I was discharged from the Navy in June, 1946. I thought back to the time I had run away to join the Army, and how anxious I had been to join the Navy, but I was glad I was getting out. It had been a good experience, but it was time to start a new life. I had plenty of time as I was just a few months short of my twentieth birthday. As I left Charleston that day, all I could think of was how good it was going to be to be back in the mountains of Western North Carolina. Back among friends and family, back in Swannanoa.

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Coming Home “A man travels the world over in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it.” Moore I was just as anxious to get out of the Navy as I had been to get in. I boarded a train in Charleston on my way to Asheville, where my parents and Kenny and Bill were to meet me. I couldn’t believe how much Bill had changed since I had been in the Navy. When I had left he was just a child, and now he was a handsome teenager. He was dating and driving the car. When I got off the train I realized that everything I owned in the world was in my Navy sea bag that I was carrying, I had been through a Depression and a World War, and I still wasn’t old enough to vote. We got in the car and drove toward Swannanoa. As we turned in to the Old Village toward our house at 19 Richmond Avenue, I heard a good, familiar sound. It was the sound of the looms in the weave room at The Mill. I knew then that I was finally home among Mill people and that I was still a Mill person. It felt good. At times I had not known if I would ever be here again. I still didn’t know what I would do with the rest of my life, but I did know I had plenty of decisions to make. I didn’t do much for the rest of the summer. I learned that Patty was working at Belk in Asheville for the summer. She had just finished her freshman year at Warren Wilson College just outside Swannanoa. I went by to see her and asked her out. This was the start of our long courtship. I decided to enroll at Warren Wilson in the fall. I could play football and basketball and be near Patty at the same time. My time at Warren Wilson was restrictive, and I would have left after the first week had it not been for Patty being there. It was a strict Presbyterian Church school, and they had several rules, which seemed childish to me after being in the Navy. I made some good friends there who had also been in the service, and this helped some. Being on the football and basketball teams helped too. 93

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Our First House “A wife is the peculiar gift of Heaven.” Pope Patty and I dated all that year. One night, we went to a movie in Asheville and afterwards stopped at a restaurant on Tunnel Road simply called the Drive-In. That is where I asked Patty to marry me. A few years later this would become one of the finest restaurants in Western North Carolina, called Buck’s Restaurant, one of our favorite places to eat for years. Patty graduated from Warren Wilson College in the spring of 1947, and we decided to get married the next Easter, which was March 28,1948. I got a job in The Mill and Patty had gotten a job in Washington, DC for the summer. She was a teacher’s aide in Friendship House, a daycare center for underprivileged children in Southeast Washington. This was the first time she had been away from home by herself. Her mother wanted her to see some of the world outside Swannanoa before we got married. After she had been there a few weeks, I decided to go visit her. Neither of us knew anything about the city, and one night we decided to go see a baseball game at Griffith Park between the Detroit Tigers and the Washington Senators. After the game we got on a bus going back to where Patty lived, got off too early and walked through some of the worst sections of Washington. Luckily nothing happened to two people who were too much in love and so glad to be together they were not aware of the dangers of a big city. In the fall Patty came back home and got a job with Dr. Allen T. Lockwood, a dentist in Asheville. It was good to have her home. I had been lost without her. We bought a little three room unfinished log house on two acres of land in the Riceville community west of Swannanoa beyond Warren Wilson College. We paid twenty five hundred dollars for the house and the payments were twenty-five dollars a month. 94

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I thought at the time I would never get out of debt. We were very proud of our house, and before the wedding we decided to wallpaper the living room. This was something neither of us had ever done. Dr. Lockwood told Patty if we could do this and still want to get married then no doubt the marriage would last. We got through it and still wanted to get married. The house didn’t have a bathroom and Patty’s parents put one in for our wedding present. Her father also made a place for her grand piano to sit, and my uncle, Minor Sims, spent many hours helping me put down flooring and installing a heating system. He was married to my Aunt Amie, my Dad’s sister, but we didn’t look at him as an uncle-in-law but a very good friend and uncle. He was very special to my brothers and me all through our growing up years.

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Our Wedding “The defects of a preacher are soon spied.” Martin Luther Our wedding was held in the Swannanoa Methodist Church on Easter Sunday March 28,1948, with the Minister Dr. O.E. Croy officiating. Patty’s cousin Suzanne Gash was maid of honor. Kenny was my best man, Bill and Patty’s brother, Mike Banner, Ed Pearce and Budgie Sides were ushers. My cousin Ruth Ann Holt was the ring bearer, Gilmer Weatherly sang, and Patty’s favorite music teacher, Mrs. Clarke Johnson, played the piano. Because her father was deaf, Patty’s uncle, Matt Banner, from Greensboro gave her away. Bill and Mike were lighting the candles before the wedding. They were nervous and almost turned over a candelabra, catching it at the last second. Dr. Croy was standing beside Kenny and me, and said, “What a blunder, what a blunder.” But during the ceremony he would be the one to make the biggest blunder of all when he said, “for as much as Kenny and Patty have come together, erI mean Gene and Patty.” Everything went smoothly after that, and we would laugh about Dr. Croy’s blunder for many years to come. We spent our honeymoon in Charleston, South Carolina. It was beautiful there that time of the year and we enjoyed it very much. In future years, Charleston would be one of our favorite places to visit. After a week we came back to our little house, and I went back to work at The Mill. Patty was working at Montgomery Ward, but a little later would go to work at Sears. We didn’t own a car at this time and I rode to work with a neighbor. Patty had to ride the bus to her job in Asheville. We had to depend on either my parents or Patty’s parents to take us to get groceries or go shopping. It was very inconvenient living so far out in the country without a car. Patty’s parents lived near us. Mr. Banner was deaf and it was hard to communicate with him, but I had a good relationship with him and we got along very well. He 96

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was a gifted furniture maker, and much of the furniture we started out with and still have today was made by him. Mrs. Banner, or Dickie, as most of her friends called her, was special to me. She was not only my mother-inlaw, but a friend who was always ready to help in any way she could. I couldn’t have made it without Dickie. She was retired from the Post Office, having worked in both the Swannanoa and Oteen offices. She had also worked at the Oteen Veteran’s Hospital at one time. In later years she and her sister, Helen Pearce, would build houses to either rent or sell. Dickie was a very good businesswoman. Dickie and I would have friendly arguments about politics. Every election she would read every thing she could get her hands on about all the candidates and all the issues. She would always vote. She would always ask questions about the Republican candidates running for office, as if looking for a choice. She never voted anything but a straight Democrat ticket. She was widowed in her late fifties, and lived alone the last twenty years of her life.

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Leaving Swannanoa Forever “I hear a voice you cannot hear which says I must not stay, I see a hand you cannot see which beckons me away.” John Gay On December 13, 1949 our first child, a beautiful little girl, was born. We named her Donna Gail. Our lives were changed forever, filled with something we didn’t know existed. She was the apple of our eyes and adored by both sets of grandparents and her uncles. I was still playing basketball for Beacon, and was also a member of The Mill bowling team. I was gone from home far too much, and decided it was time to settle down and become a family man, so I stopped both of these activities. By this time we had our first car and things were beginning to get a little better although my pay at The Mill was small. Patty was still working at Sears, and Donna was staying with Patty’s parents during the day. I had been working at The Mill about two years. I thought it was time to start looking for a better job. There must be something better out there, I thought. There’s got to be. I eventually did find a better job, and turned my notice in at The Mill. I had gotten a job with The Great Atlantic and Pacific Tea Company, better known as the A&P, a large grocery chain. On that last day when I walked out The Mill gate, I stopped in front of the L&N Barber Shop and looked back across Whitson Street toward The Mill. I knew I would never go back inside again. As I left the Station on my way home, thousands of good memories flooded my mind, and I didn’t want to leave. I drove down past the Methodist Church where Patty and I had attended most of our lives, where we were married and where Donna had been christened. I drove on down across the river, turned left on old US 70, a route that I 98

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had walked hundreds of times with special friends on our way to school. When I got to the school, something made me turn into the driveway. I drove by the old building, saw my first grade classroom, the old gym that I had slipped into so many times with my friends, and where I had played so many basketball games with the high school and Beacon. I drove on over to the new building where I had made many, many friends, had my first romance, and learned so much from a lot of good teachers. I thought of all the plays I had been in, all the excuses I had forged. As I drove by the auditorium I could have sworn I heard Mr. Howell singing “Home On The Range”, and it was the first day of a new school year and I could see old familiar faces and hear old familiar sounds of another time and another place. I turned back on to the highway and it hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was leaving this place I had loved for so long, forever. I was leaving Swannanoa. It was a sad day for me, a day I had dreaded for so long, but I realized it was time to go. I said to myself, “They were very special times, and you were a very special place filled with wonderful people. A part of me will always be here. Good-bye old friend, and thanks for all the memories.”

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Epilogue: Going Back One Last Time “We all take pride in the past, but look forward to the future.” Senator Robert Dole, Farewell to Congress, June 1996. I have driven through Swannanoa many times since I left in 1950, looking for something I’ll never have again. It’s not there any more, it’s gone forever. But the ghosts of the past ride with me, through the Old Village up through the Station, by The Mill, across the railroad tracks through the New Village and past the ball ground, and I say to them, “Don’t be ashamed to cry, but be happy and thankful to have been a part of all this. It will never come our way again.” There is a monument in front of The Mill containing the names of all the boys from Swannanoa who served in World War II. My name is on it along with many of my friends and a few cousins. I’m proud of this monument, but I realize now this is my last tie to Swannanoa. There are no members of the Mills family left in Swannanoa. My aunt Amie Sims was the last of the Mills clan to live there. Her death in 1999 marked the end of seventy-three years of the Mills family living in Swannanoa. Most of the store buildings are either gone or boarded up. This is not the place I grew up in and loved. The Mill is still there, but not as great a force in the community as it was in my youth. There are no ball games at the ball ground, no crowds of my peers sitting in and outside Sisk’s, no Trailways buses coming to the Station. No passenger trains stopping to take on or let off passengers. None of Henry Gibbs’ signs painted on any of the store fronts. No swimming at Hog Pen Beach, and yes, even the Stand, where Daddy had sorted so many bottles, and Kenny and Bill had so many good times, is gone. Gone too is Ward’s Drug Store, W. J. Parks’ Grocery Store, Harrison’s Dry Goods Store, Shirlen’s Shoe Shop and the L&N Barber Shop. These were all extra special places to me, and had a lot to do with molding my life. 100

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What happened? Where are all the barefoot, happy go lucky Village kids? Why aren’t they playing in the streets, swimming at Hog Pen Beach, or playing baseball at the ball ground? I guess everything has its time, and it was just time for the Swannanoa I knew then to fade away. What a shame! What a loss! In an article in the Asheville Citizen-Times dated February 12, 2002, I read: “Beacon to Close Swannanoa Plant by April 15, 2002.” This is the final blow to my hometown. The Mill moved to the Swannannoa Valley in the 1920’s and had an annual payroll of over $7 million. No one ever imagined the Mill would ever close. As I look back at the importance of the Mill to the people of Swannannoa as I was growing up, I just can’t imagine the Mill not being there anymore. But these memories are mine and I live with them every day. I’m glad that I lived there. This is where I became a man. I’m proud of my heritage. A part of me will always be a Mill person. No one can take that away from me. I just hope, as I grow older, the memories will still be in my head. If not then I will always be glad I took the time to write them down. I’m just sorry that everybody, especially my children and grandchildren, don’t have the memories I have, of a very special place and a very special time, and most of all very special people that were so important in my life. I realize now that I lived in “Another Time, Another Place” and the Swannanoa I grew up in doesn’t exist any more. But the memories of the town and the people are etched in my mind forever. My dad died in 1992. He was 90 years old. Mother is living in a nursing home in Pineville, North Carolina. She is in fairly good health and still enjoys talking about her days living in Swannanoa. We celebrated her 100th birthday on December 28, 2001, with a big party of family and friends. Kenny lives in Pineville, North Carolina. He is married to the former Clara Allen of Swannanoa. He is a retired school teacher, and postal worker, and is now active in politics, having served on the town council of Pineville 101

GENE MILLS for many years. He and Clara have a son and daughter and five grandchildren. Bill joined the Air Force shortly after graduating from Swannanoa High School. After serving in several states, he spent the last few years of his enlistment at Tyndall Field in Panama City, Florida. He decided to make this his home, and worked at the Navy Base in Panama City for many years. He is retired and he and his wife Dolly are active in the Shriners. Bill has a son and daughter, three grandchildren and several stepgrandchildren and step great grandchildren. Patty and I live in Fort Mill, South Carolina, a small community just across the state line from Charlotte, North Carolina. I retired in 1988 after 38 years with the A&P grocery chain. Patty is a retired preschool teacher, but is still active as the organist at the Pineville United Methodist Church. We have two daughters and a son, and six grandchildren. There are no Mills family members living in Swannanoa today. The only member of the Mills family left, besides my Mother, that came to Swannanoa from Tennessee in the early 1920’s, is my uncle Amos, my Dad’s brother. He lives in a nursing home in Asheville with his wife, the former Helen Harbin of Swannanoa.

Swannanoa in the 1930’s (the white building on the right is the old Swannanoa Methodist Church)

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