Earlier this month, Appalachia Bare took ourselves a little trip to Chattanooga and visited the Tennessee Valley Railroad Museum (TVRM). While there, we took a 65-minute train ride on the Local1)Why the term “local”? These short trains were a “lifeline to small towns along the railroad.” They often delivered mail,Continue Reading
Author’s Note: some factual details, Mary’s letter, and photos (scanned from the originals) in this article were mined from an unpublished case study I co-authored; my foggy, unofficial recollections form the rest of the story. For all dollar figures, keep in mind that a buck in 1978 would be equivalentContinue Reading
“I placed a jar in Tennessee” is the first line of Wallace Stevens’ “Anecdote of the Jar,” a modernist poem written in 1918. Stevens’ canon of poetry typically explores the phenomenon of perception and the mind’s tendency to create its own reality. Anecdote of the Jar I placed a jarContinue Reading
I long to lie in the thick apple moss, hemmed in by doghobble, leafy liverwort at my feet, lichen like a lacy pillow under my head, covered by a canopy of sugar maple and red buckeye, butterfly ghosts of beech leaves fluttering above. If I were very, very quiet, wouldContinue Reading
The following section is the last of my father’s journals, which really turned out to be more of a memoir. This part is devoted to his childhood, so I have included pictures of him as a little boy. I hope his writings have offered enjoyment, knowledge, or comfort. AContinue Reading
My secret nickname, Meat Grinder, for the Soddy-Daisy, Tennessee, man displaced by the Highway 27 project was partly a tribute to his roughhewn visage but more about his making hamburger out of my life. He had put me through hell, but, with the assistance of a creative mortgage banker, IContinue Reading
In my last post of the Daugherty series, we left Byrd, his two sons, and Pryor Bunch rooted to the spot across from Daniel Britton Daugherty, Robert Lowe, and possibly a few others. If you recall, Robert Lowe reached into his jacket pocket, and I imagine that gesture put theContinue Reading
Deputy Byrd Daugherty1)In various places and sources, Byrd’s name is often spelled “Bird.” The way I was told, the correct spelling is Byrd. Another point: The last name, Daugherty, has also been spelled Dougherty. never reckoned that a bloodbath was coming when he stepped off the train from the HarrimanContinue Reading
We trundled down the thin gravelly road, Dad and I, in the rickety old pickup truck, green enough to blend with the forest, especially after one of those morning drizzles in late summer that just makes the trees look . . . alive, more alive than usual. The dew-glazed hemlockContinue Reading
We have beautiful lands here in the mountains. Our soil is fertile. Our springs are clear. Our mountains are misty. Tourists flock to these lands because the stunning panoramic views are legendary. But we have a problem (one of many, to be sure). I don’t know if anyone else hasContinue Reading