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H
I S T O R Y O F H E R
E
P
a r t 184
Lookin' at a Valuable Neighbor
by James F. "Jim"
Barrett
As
you steady readers know, some many months
ago I did a six article series covering
the complete history of Silver Dollar City
and Marvel (Marble) Cave Park. We looked
at the entire Herschend family, Shad
Heller, the Beverly Hillbillies, all the
many SDC characters - and all the ins and
outs of that fantastic and fun
relationship. Then, some months later we
did another six article series on the
historically famous Yocum Silver Dollar,
including the Ayres family, their several
generation search for the illusive Dollar,
their historic theater and all the ins and
outs of that interesting story.
Now
I have Editor Ed's permission to look at
yet another important, interesting,
historic and valuable business neighbor,
The Shepherd of the Hills Farm and
Theater. It's surprising how few people
know the real history of the farm - and an
unbelievable number of local folks don't
even know about the fabulous show, nor the
tale told in Harold Bell Wright's world
famous book. Like SDC and the Yocum Silver
Dollar, the story of the Farm and Theater
have historic beginnings, lots of
interplay of plots and people, tragedy,
love, excitement, color and all the other
things that I love to tell you dear
readers about. I don't know how many
issues the telling of the tale will take -
but let's get started:
We'll
look at the tales of the original settlers
of Inspiration Point, of the world famous
writer, Harold Bell Wright, and his book,
which became the fourth most published
book in history. We'll chat about the
building of the amazing White River Rail
Line, and how all of this changed the
history of the Ozarks forever. And - it's
quite possible that the tale, the facts
involved, may have changed, or will
change, YOUR life forever, as well!
Before
the coming of the White Man to these
Ozarks, this vast area from the Arkansas
River down near Little Rock, all the way
north to the Missouri River up by
Jefferson City, was dominated and
controlled by the Osage Indians. They were
a very tall, handsome, warlike tribe and
seldom suffered intrusions by other
Indians. But even the powerful Osage could
not stem the endless tide of white people
who came to seek furs, hides, salt, lead
and other riches they believed waited for
them here in these hills, rivers and
forests.
Following
the French hunters, trappers and traders
came a small but steady stream of white
settlers. Most of these came from the East
by way of Tennessee and Kentucky. But many
came from other new states further north,
down the Mississippi to the Missouri or
White rivers and then followed those great
waterways into the Ozarks' plains,
mountains and vast, deep hollows. Most
settled on river bottom land, but some
preferred to clear away the forest on the
ridges and settle there. Thus the Ross
family found their new home amid one
hundred and sixty acres on just such a
ridge overlooking the Roark Creek valley.
They cleared land for their meager crop
needs and dug out a fresh water spring for
their drinking and washing. Highway 76 did
not exist in that distant day, nor was
there any road at all where the Rosses
settled, just old Indian trails, game
trails and deeply worn horse paths.
Much
later on, in Wright's book, the Ross
family formed the nucleus of The Shepherd
of the Hills story. John became Old Matt,
Anna became Aunt Molly, while Charles Ross
became the hero, Young Matt. Let's imagine
we can listen as John Ross and his wife,
Anna, and their tall son, Charles, talk of
the beginning of their new life here in
the Ozarks:
"Anna, soon as Charles and I get the rest
of the white pine blocks froed into
shingles you'll finally have a finished
roof over your head and a place where you
can cook and sew in peace and quiet.
Livin' in this here weary old tent and a
cookin' over a camp fire can't be very
satisfyin'.
"All the choppin' and crashin' around you
men have been doin' hasn't bothered me a
whit. The comin' up of a new log cabin is
a good and happy sound for us women. I can
almost see the fire in that grand new
fireplace you boys are buildin' and smell
the food I'll be a cookin' there for us
all to enjoy when the winter rains and
snows come down and the frost giants stalk
the woods all around us.
The
three Rosses finished building their home
and moved their meager possessions in just
as winter closed around them and the first
snows covered the ground. In the spring
they would make gardens, plant a field of
corn, and set out the few fruit trees and
berry vines they had carefully brought
with them from their former home in
Springfield. They would hunt for game and
birds, dig out the few things they had
hidden away in their primitive fruit
cellar and feed themselves relatively well
that first winter. They sat by the fire,
sewed, cleaned their guns, chatted gaily,
discussed events as they recalled them,
planned their future, and passed the time
in close and solid companionship as
families did, once upon a time in the long
ago.
As
the years passed up on Inspiration Point,
the Ross homestead grew steadily more
solid and comfortable. Their closest
neighbors were over a half day's walk away
and outsider visitors came very seldom to
their door. But one summer a man who had
visited them twice before on fishing trips
and explorations returned and asked
permission to build himself a place nearby
to live for awhile as he recovered his
health. He had suffered a deep illness up
in Kansas and came back to the Ozarks to
fish, hunt, relax, breath the country air
and gather his strength once more.
The
man was a pleasant young preacher, a
published writer, and the Rosses had taken
a liking to him on his earlier brief
visits. They gave their permission and
helped Harold Bell Wright build a board
floored, tent roofed summer home where he
could relax, sleep, gaze out upon the
green hills and write when the mood was
upon him to do so. Perhaps we can even
hear Harold talk to his Ozark Mountain
friends.
"I
cannot thank you folks enough for
permitting me to live out the summer with
you here on your lovely mountain top. I
will be wanting to meet your neighbors, if
you will be so kind as to introduce me to
them. And, with their permission, I will
walk their farms and woodlands to exercise
and to see much more of this lovely
country. In return for your kindness and
your help with my summer cottage, I'd like
to lend a hand with your chores this
summer, and help your neighbors as well
whenever I'm able to do so. Perhaps I
could help mind your flock of sheep or
tend your garden."
And
so he did. A very perceptive, kind and
likable man, Harold Bell Wright became
well acquainted with all of the Rosses'
neighbors. He often helped with the
herding of the sheep flocks, spending long
hours sitting on great rocks or old stumps
out in the field where Whitewater stands
today, watching his charges and writing
upon the paper pads he always carried with
him. On them he was capturing the essence
of the Ozarks. He was writing notes and
bits of speech concerning these people of
the hills, how they lived, what they said,
how they viewed their world. He jotted
down the good things, the inspirational
things, the peaceful and gentle times -
together with the hard things and the
sometimes clashing of the wills and wants
held tightly and put forth by the hard men
and tough womenfolk of the Ozark
forest.
Let's
hear what two famous locals of the time
had to say about things. They are at the
post office at Notch, a little place that
exists still today on 76 Highway. We'll
listen as the local postmaster, Uncle Ike,
Levi Morrill, and his good friend, Truman
Powell, who became the Shepherd of
Wright's book, have to tell us.
"Truman and I well recall, the lawlessness
brought on by the Radical Republicans
after the Civil War, when they made their
Iron Clad Oath into state-wide law became
a terrible thing. In the big cities they
could afford to buy men to keep the law
and make life safe for citizens. But out
here in the wilderness we had no money to
pay for law keeping, the sheriff was in
the pocket of the Radicals, deadly Bush
Whackers came and went at will and terror
stalked the land."
"Levi and I often told Reverend Harold
Wright about those hard and dangerous
times. How Captain Nat Kinney came down
from Springfield, settled over by Forsyth
and began talking to other hard men up on
Snapp's Bald Mountain. How the Law and
Order League they formed slowly changed
into deadly vigilantes we all called The
Bald Knobbers. After the really good men
dropped out of the organization, the rest
became as frightening and deadly as the
worst of the Bush Whackers. Why, if you
was to cross a Bald Knobber member, or one
of their friends, in a business deal -
you'd find a bundle of sticks on your
porch the next morning as a serious
warning."
"Yes,
that's so, just as Truman says. And you'd
best change your ways or the next thing
was you'd find yourself dragged from your
home in the dead of night and beaten with
a bull whip to make you understand the
right thing to do. Lots of fine families
packed up in a hurry and left the country,
leaving much of what they owned, as well
as their cabin and farm behind them."
"True! And then some Bald Knobber would
pounce upon it, settle some of his kin
there and take over the place. Oh, yes,
they were terrible dark vigilante men back
in those days. But some, like one of the
chief Knobbers, big Mathias Shearer, who
Wright called Jim Lane, he was a mixed
sort of man, you know. He was a true Bald
Knobber, but his heart wasn't in the
beatin', hangin' and killin' part of it.
No, not at all.
James F. "Jim"
Barrett
(Copyright
1995/96/97/98/99/00/01/02/03)
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