LOOKOUT
MOUNTAIN
Edited by Norman and Frances Bradley
A Project of the
Copyright © 1986
By The
All Rights Reserved
•
Cover Design by Jim and Liz Aplin
Printed by Target Graphics, Inc.,
This is a book about one particular community, how it has grown and where it has changed over the past century or so, and about the people who lived through it all.
There is nothing very formal about it. It is largely told in the words of those who saw things happen or heard about them from other and earlier residents. Illustrations include family portraits and personal snapshots of people and places.
It is not, nor was it intended to be, either an historical document or a sociological study in the strictest sense. Rather it is a gathering of fond recollections, of family accounts, of personal experiences, mixed with enough of the mortar of factual data to provide some semblance of cohesion and continuity. Its measure of success will be the extent to which it arouses similar remembrances in those who read it.
Every effort has been made to avoid error and to escape omissions of pertinent material. But memories grow dim and searches falter, so that mistakes may have occurred which beg the divine quality of forgiveness.
Lookout Mountain, of course, only leaves its distinctive point in Tennessee to extend for miles and miles through Georgia and into Alabama. For the purposes of this story, attention is centered on its readily identifiable residential areas near the northern tip.
Save for the emphasis supplied by the originating project, Tennessee Homecoming ’86, no thought has been given to the bisecting state boundary. That, for legal purposes, is a necessity; in daily affairs, it is simply an invisible line. As residents know it, Lookout Mountain is one place and is so treated here.
To those who came early
and provided a firm foundation for growth and development, to those who are
here now and have labored so diligently in common cause, and to those we can
confidently expect to bring new ideas and fresh energies to a distinctive
Mountain-top community, we dedicate this compilation with admiration,
appreciation and anticipation.
Part One
Its Geology and Geography
Bones of The Mountain
Wherever the Water Ran
From Trails to Rails
A Park for Preservation
Feeling Nature’s Fury
A Tour for Today
Cupid’s Message
Part Two
In Times of Conflict
The Honored Roll
On the Homefront
Among Those Who Waited
The Governments They
Ordained
Their Diversity for Living
A Shared Place From Early On
The Homes They Built
The Churches They Attended
The Schools They Set Up
The Things They Like To Remember
Some Special Personalities
The Clubs They Formed
Cultural Attainments
Recreations They Pursued
The Businesses They Ran
(Licit and Otherwise)
And
What of the Future?
Acknowledgments
THE PLACE
If you were shown photographs of mountain ranges from all over the world, you could probably pick out the Cumberlands, whether the picture showed Lookout or some other of the nearby mountains. Our mountains have a distinctive shape. There is always an escarpment-like palisades around the top, then steep slopes which level out to a lesser slope at the lower levels. Frequently there will be a "bench,” or almost level space between the steep upper slopes and the wide spreading lower parts of the mountain. The visible form we see is a reflection of the inner structure of the mountain.
We think of mountains as being heaved up by the slow but titanic forces of geology. Many of them are.
You can see a cross section of this kind of mountain building on the way to Cleveland, where I-75 cuts through White Oak Mountain. The exposed rock in that cut is tilted at all angles up to vertical, with fantastically folded strata as well. All of White Oak Mountain (which becomes Taylor’s Ridge south of Dalton) is the result of such uplifting and folding. The ridge is thrust up from the eastern side, leaving gentle slopes on the east and steeper, more irregular forms on the west.
The processes which formed Lookout and the rest of the Cumberlands were very different. Let us begin with a visit to Moccasin Bend, where we can stand on the hospital grounds and look at the nose of Lookout Mountain, where the lower levels have been cut away by the action of the river.
We can see at a glance that the lower third of the mountain consists of a grey limestone which actually dips under rather than rises up under the mountain.
It is called a “canoe fold.” Above the limestone levels we cannot see, because those intermediate levels are covered with vegetation. The limestone of the lower levels of the Cumberlands isthe remains of sea creatures, most of them microscopic in size. With a magnifying glass and a little time you can find rocks which actually show the tiny remains of shells. Agood place to look is in the abandoned rock quarry down the road a bit from Ruby Falls.
But we are still on Moccasin Bend — grey, exposed limestone facing us, then wooded slopes and finally the imposing sandstone cliffs at the top, which come to a point at Umbrella Rock. The limestone is definitely not humped up into a mountain; it almost cradles the mountain like an opened hand. Then how were the mountains formed?
Let’s go to Point Park for the next clue. On the way up, just below Hugh Maclellan’s house, we catch a glimpse of the many layers of shale which form the middle portion of the mountain. In contrast to the hard rocks at top and bottom these shales appear soft and crumbly, and they are. Every modern highway in the Cumberlands has suffered from landslides in the middle elevations, as the road builders cut through these softer rocks.
While limestones are laid down in the sea, shales could be called petrified mud. Remains of plant life and coal, which is the compacted residue of growing plants are found throughout the shale.
Now we are at the Point. Looking to the west we see ridge after ridge of mountains. We cannot see much in between them. Do they not appear to be one wide reaching plain? Except for those valleys so
largely hidden from our view we could walk across the whole range. Indeed they are a plain, formed very far back in time by the wearing down of still higher layers of rock now wholly disappeared. But how does it happen that the river cuts through the mountains? The answer is very simple and very hard to believe: the river is older than the mountains.
The hard sandstone top layers of the mountain superimposed on top of fast-weathering shale are the key to the form of the mountains. Sandstone is deposited on shore lines and in streams as sand and pebbles. The pebbles are rounded through the action of waves and currents. Look at the big rocks in front of Fairyland Club and you will see them. As these sands are covered with other layers of sediment they are transformed through heat and pressure and time (lots of it) into rocks which are not only hard but which are not dissolved in water. Limestones are equally hard, but can be dissolved by the traces of acid found in decaying leaves. Thus caves form in limestone as water seeks its way downward through fissures in the rock.
The sandstones which form the top layer of the present mountains remain because they were thicker where the mountains now are, and where they were thinner they wore away more readily — leaving the present valleys. We arrive at the paradox that the present mountains replace ancient valleys!
The canoe fold in the
limestone is the clue. Presumably there were upward folds in that limestone
where our valleys now are. Those upward folds have worn away. What is left,
rhe presence of potable water — some
of it considered of great medicinal value —was a considerable factor in the
attraction
Numerous springs were located atop the Mountain or along its sides. Indian trails pinpointed the sites and white families located their houses nearby. Later on, some of the hotels made much of their presumed healing properties in order to attract guests.
Alice Warner Milton, Lookout Mountain historian and folklorist, has catalogued the locations of a number of the springs and evaluated their importance to the community.
Holman Spring was toward the north central section of the Mountain and the first settlement was in its vicinity. Mrs. James Whiteside is credited with discovering Leonora Spring under the east bluff near
the family’s Lookout Mountain Hotel built there in the 1850s. Ragon Spring was in the same area.
Many “mineral springs” such as Alum Spring under the East Brow and those at Natural Bridge were considered a fine tonic for whatever ailments one might have. There are flows of similar water on the Mountain as far south as Mentone, Ala. Hotels were built nearby and residents of valley areas made great use of these resorts.
Skyuka Spring, which flows from the west side of the Mountain into Lookout Creek, was named for a chief of the Cherokee Indians. Jackson Spring, in the Covenant College area, was named for early settlers of that section, as was Crutchfield Spring which flows into Chattanooga Valley.
A large underground spring on the northeast shoulder of the Mountain was discovered by Charles Anderson, grandson of Robert Cravens, on their property. In 1886, the Cravens’ heirs leased the rights for use of the spring to a company formed to supply water to Chattanooga and the surrounding area. For many years, it was the city’s only source of supply.
Mining was important in the early development of Lookout Mountain to the south. The Durham Coal and Iron Company was established several miles south of Lula Lake and was for a time a major supplier of coal for Chattanooga industries. James C. Warner operated the Rising Fawn iron ore development to the west. Traces of iron deposits are still discernible in formations around Point Park.
Indian trails, both those used for access to the mountaintop and for hunting or trading purposes tended to follow water courses, and there are traces even today of the routes at various points on the Mountain. Mrs. Milton points out that such trails or traces were marked by shaping saplings so that they would grow in distinctive shapes, such as “knee” or saddletrees. One such tree still visible is in “the Glen” where Ochs Highway curves sharply to reach the brow at Fleetwood Drive, she said.
Standing on its summit, the visitor drinks a bracing air; his eye wanders over a vast sea of forest and cultivated fields, until its vision is bounded by the mountains fifty miles distant. The Tennessee meanders on graceful curves beneath his feet — now lost to view, and then the glimmer of its waters breaks out again in the far distance. Awful precipices and mighty rocks are all around; and looking from their dizzy heights, the rushing railway train, hastening along its appointed way, seems a child’s toy, a mere plaything, amid the great realities of nature.
Lookout Mountain’s plateau, of course, knew the tread of human feet long before it attracted permanent residents. The Indians hunted its length and crisscrossed its relatively narrow waist for generations, although for some reason left few signs of long-term habitation. Their major trails traversed its slopes and subsidiary paths led to the top many years prior to the emergence of any lasting white settlement.
In a column in The Chattanooga Times in 1938, historian Robert Sparks Walker said the Cherokees and other tribes maintained well defined routes for hunting, trading and perhaps mischief making by war parties long before the white men came. But these trails were for movement afoot. “The Indians were always slow to grant permission for the construction of wagon roads through their wilderness, because from experience they had learned they would have to contend with a greater number of savage whites who would interfere with their civilization,” he wrote.
Thus while the Old Indian War Trace, one of the truly great strands of communication among farflung tribes inhabiting the continent east of the Mississippi, carried heavy traffic around Lookout’s north shoulder, the 19th Century was well along before one of the
pathways up the Mountain near its point was widened to accomodate wheeled vehicles.
It was this primitive route that Col. James A. Whiteside, who came to Chattanooga in 1838, reconstructed as a toll road to gain easier access to the large tracts of land he had acquired on top of the Mountain. Wagons or buggies were charged 50 cents and persons riding horseback half that amount to use the road. Presumably those who walked could avoid all charges.
Through Civil War days, the route was known as the Summertown Road. It ascended the Mountain over roughly the same route as that of the present day Scenic Highway. After the War, a new road was built, starting in St. Elmo and generally following the location of the present Ochs Highway.
It was first called the St. Elmo Turnpike; later the name was changed to honor Col. A. M. Johnson, a pioneer in the development of the St. Elmo community. In later years, it was renamed the Ochs Highway to commemorate the efforts of Adolph S. Ochs, publisher of The Chattanooga Times, and his brother
Milton who spearheaded the move to place the slopes of the Mountain under the National Park Service to prevent commercial encroachment and to enhance the natural beauty of the approaches.
Construction of the second road, which to begin with charged no tolls, set off heated competition between the two access routes. At one point, Mrs. Whiteside, who had taken over direction of the family interests following the death of her husband in 1861, fenced off approaches to Point Lookout and charged admission to all visitors who had used liveries travelling the Johnson pike. This so incensed these carriers that they filed suit to eliminate the fees. The Tennessee courts upheld Mrs. Whiteside.
“A new land company, composed of H. Clay Evans, Capt. H. F. Temple and the Montagues of Chattanooga . . . conceived the plan of building an incline from St. Elmo to the northern point of the Mountain, directly below the rocky palisades where the Whiteside property ended,” Walker wrote. There they erected the Lookout Mountain Point Hotel in 1885, “high enough for their guests to enjoy the same scenic grandeur as that to be observed from the
Point, only a few feet back of the top of the hotel. The building material was brought up on the incline cars.” The changeover from trails to rails up the Mountain, and the provision of quality lodging on its heights, had begun.
This first incline, which came to be known as No. 1, did not “go in a straight line up the Mountain as the present one does,” E. W. McMillin, a lifelong resident of the community, recalled in a 1975 commentary prepared for his family. “It had several curves in the track as it wound up the Mountain and was not as steep as Incline No. 2. The tracks passed about a quarter mile south of the Cravens House. The cars were open ones with long steps on the sides extending the whole length of the car.”
Atop the Mountain, tracks were laid for a narrow-gauge line on which ran rail cars pulled by a small steam engine. Later, the route was electrified and the road bed used by a trolley known as the “Dinkey.” It was the “right name for it, too,” Margaret Bright said, “because it was certainly dinky!”
The Dinkey ran from the Point Hotel below the bluffs on the west side of the Mountain, first to Sunset Rock and later over an extension to the East Brow and the Incline No. 2 station. It was primarily an early tourist attraction although Mountain residents used it on a short haul basis. The Dinkey had a single truck, placed at the center of the car. This meant that if you stood at either end and jumped up and down, “you could rock it quite a bit,” one venturesome passenger remembered.
Within a decade, Mrs. Whiteside became interested in plans for a new incline, to be built to move its cars in a straight line up and down the steep slope above St. Elmo. Jo Conn Guild and Lynn White drew up the design for the project and Mrs. Whiteside participated in financing its construction. John T. Crass was elected president of the new company. Vernon Whiteside became vice president and James L. Whiteside was named ticket agent. Claude Whiteside and John Carson were appointed conductors and H. L. Harbin, brought herefrom Decatur, Ala., was in charge of laying the rails. He became chief engineer.
FIRST MORTGAGE
A steam engine furnished the power when the line began operating in the mid-’90s. In 1911, electrification was completed and new safety devices installed. A near tragedy occurred in 1919 when the power house at the top of the Mountain caught fire. One car ran down the track in flames but no one was injured. For more than a year, Incline users shifted to the electric trolley line, which provided passengers with magnificent views on its nine-mile run downtown, but took much longer than the Incline.
The trolley was the
successor to the so-called broad-gauge train for which tracks were first laid
in 1885. The
The local operation ran on an ambitious schedule. The trains left Chattanooga for Lookout Mountain every hour on the hour during the busiest times, and the fare was only a dime each way, compared to the $2 charged by the livery stables. It was a hard pull, requiring an estimated 50 bushels of coal for the locomotive each trip. For economic and other reasons, the steam line was abandoned in 1900; in 1913, the electric trolley, using the same roadbed, took its place. It remained in operation until the middle ’20s before giving way to the increased usage of automobiles over improved roads up the Mountain.
The trolley ride, though it took much longer than the precipitous descent via Incline No. 2, was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, Jac Chambliss remembers. “If you made the best possible connections,” he said, “you could get into town in about 25 to 30 minutes from the top of the Mountain.
“The street car line started and ended at the top of the Incline. Leaving there it ran down what is now Watauga to Massey’s store and then curved eastward and crossed two trestles over glens and went through what is now the Stonedge property.
“It started down the Mountain there, headed northward. It passed under the Incline track, went by Cravens House and about a mile further on it went around a sharp turn, the old switchback, as it was called, and headed south again. It crossed Scenic Highway where Ruby Falls is, again passed underthe Incline tracks, went on down to about 45th Street and then turned left, downhill, over Alabama Avenue, and reached St. Elmo Avenue. From there it headed on into town, going past the Incline at the foot.”
Mr. McMillin, a great grandson of Robert Cravens, owner of the landmark residence on the Mountain’s east slope, remembers that both incline lines crossed the Cravens property. “When the rights of way were given for the No. 2 Incline,” he said, “the deed specified that the heirs of Robert Cravens who were living at the time would be given lifetime passes on the Incline and that a station would be built, where the Incline passed over the Old Shingle Road, forthe use of the Cravens family and that the cars would stop there for that purpose. The station is still in use and is known as the Halfway Station.”
Mr. McMillin said that he and a cousin, Mrs. Charles Coffey Sr., became the last surviving Cravens heirs to hold the passes issued so long before.
Incline No. 1 went out of operation with the abandonment of the Point Hotel, its mountaintop termin-ous, in the early years of the 20th Century. The Dinkey ceased operation about the start of World War I. The demise of the streetcar line in the early ’20s left Incline No. 2 as the only public transportation facility connecting Lookout Mountain with Chattanooga until CARTA instituted bottom-to-top bus service in 1975.
Highways serving the community generally have used routes close to the earliest wagon roads. Improvements came slowly but surely, and with the surge of highway expansion of the ’20s and ’30s, there came the greater convenience and added safety of paved roads.
Only a quarter-century after the War Between the States, the Federal government began the move to establish national military parks to mark major battle sites. Chickamauga was one of the four areas named in the original authorization, enacted in 1890, and even then there were ideas for inclusion of the non-contiguous sites of fighting around Missionary
Ridge
and
In 1893, legislation was enacted to acquire 85.35 acres on Cravens Terrace and, in 1898, to purchase 16.5 acres at the Point itself, as sites for commemorative development.
There the efforts might have rested, had it not been for a growing realization by leading citizens that much more of the Mountain required protective measures if its approaches and slopes were to be saved from intrusion by self-serving interests. Adolph Ochs, owner and publisher of The Chattanooga Times, was in the forefront of the campaign — which was carried on over twenty years or more—to assure the desired preservation. By that time, Mr. Ochs had acquired The New York Times and lived in the metropolis, but he maintained his interest in Chattanooga affairs and frequently visited the area.
His enthusiastic support for an extended park area reached a peak in the ’20s. In 1925, at a civic luncheon in his honor, he gave voice to his hopes for the development which, he said, should include all land — except where homes had already been built —from the Georgia-Tennessee line on the east slope of the Mountain around its point to the state line on the west.
Its purpose, according to newspaper accounts, was to “preserve the beauty and the grandeur” of the area. He pledged personal support to the plan and, news stories added, was immediately joined by a number of those present, including O. B. Andrews,
T. R. Preston, Mrs. Joseph W. Johnson, Mrs. David Foote Sellers, Mr. and Mrs. Gaston C. Raoul, Chattanooga Mayor Richard Hardy, Judge A. W. Chambliss, Mrs. Lucius Mansfield, and Morrow Chamberlain.
The purchase of 2,700 acres in all was made possible from these and subsequent pledges and contributions, and in 1934 the land was formally turned over to the National Park Service for administration.
In 1940, the Ochs Museum at the Point was dedicated as a mark of appreciation for the publisher’s efforts in behalf of the Park.
PDies snapped, wires crackled, limbs popped like cannons going off.
The descriptive terms may sound familiar but they have nothing to do with child’s play. Instead, they were the sounds of the most destructive, costliest natural disaster Lookout Mountain has experienced in modern times.
It was the great Ice Storm of 1960, an event no resident of the Mountain community at that time will ever forget.
It all began as a spell of nasty, though not necessarily threatening, weather in early March. The winter had been rigorous. Traces of a near record nine-inch snow on Feb. 13 still lingered, but residents of the area were grateful the discomforts and inconveniences of the snap had passed without any serious trouble.
Tuesday, March 1, was cold and windy with a low of 23 degrees and a forecast of “dismal, wintry weather; snow or sleet changing to rain.” And that was what Mountain residents awoke to on Wednesday morning.
Downtown streets were slushy with only a few scattered patches of an icy sheeting thick enough to give any warning of what lay ahead. A17-mile an hour wind out of the southwest was biting but not yet bitter.
By noon, the picture had begun to change. Word filtered down from the Mountain that the rain was freezing as it hit and tree limbs were bending low under the weight. Midafternoon saw a stream of cars leaving the city, carrying the more cautious Mountain residents hopeful of reaching home before “things got really bad.” They already had, and for many the time had passed when they could make it to the top.
On assignment, Chattanooga Times Photographer George Hull tried Ochs Highway. He reported the scene at 4 p.m.: “I was greeted by sight and sound suggesting warfare. As I turned up from St. Elmo, a flash of blue light, then orange, from a broken power line, glowed through the mists on the mountainside . . . A sharp report came from up the slope, and then the rippling crash of breaking limbs as another tree fell.”
Hull tried Scenic Highway but could only reach the Incline halfway station before having to turn back a second time.
Overnight, the icy covering on tree limbs and utility lines was deepened by the instant freezing of mists and fine drizzles that came and went under the swirling pressures of a 17-mile-an-hour wind from the southwest. The next day, still stronger gusts — up to 30 m.p.h., this time out of the northwest — helped wrench ice-laden limbs from trunks, many of which suffered splintered tops under stresses they were never meant to endure.
The bitter cold persisted, the temperature falling to zero degrees early on Sunday morning.
The havoc was the worst the Mountain — along with its sister heights of Signal, Mowbray and Elder — had ever experienced. Losses were estimated at nearly $5 million in damage to trees, to homes and to utility properties. More than 1,000 workmen labored to clear the streets, now patrolled by National Guardsmen to prevent looting, replace broken poles and restring power and telephone lines. They were hampered by another snow as the new week began. Well-below freezing temperatures held until a break came on March 8 when the mercury rose to 43 degrees, the first real thaw in ten days.
Experts blamed freaks in atmospheric conditions for the disaster. The basic cause, they said, was the highly unusual circumstance of having a layer of air at a high altitude which was warmer than that at ground level. This permitted precipitation to begin as rain which rapidly froze as it neared the earth or came into contact with the ice already coating sm aller surfaces.
Mayor Cecil Woods of Lookout Mountain said he placed the monetary damage to trees and shrubs alone at $2.5 million in the mountain community. There was no answer to the rhetorical question of what value could be placed on a tree that had grown for a century and sheltered a home for almost as long, but now stood stripped of its limbs and shattered for half its height, or lying prone amidst crushed foliage.
Lookout Mountain, of course, had experienced severe icing conditions before, but nothing like this. In 1905, older residents remembered, there was an ice storm which isolated the community for ten days and did extensive damage. But there were differences, too, as Mrs. William Crutchfield and Henry Massey, two residents who had experienced the earlier disaster, recalled in interviews with The Times.
“In 1905, we had no problem with heat because almost everyone heated their homes with wood or coal,” Mrs. Crutchfield said. Massey added that water for homes did not present any difficulty since “everyone had wells or cisterns and there were no pipes to burst.” Similarly, there were no power lines to be broken.
The greatest problem in 1905, they agreed, was the danger from falling trees. “We had no transportation during the 10 days of isolation and if someone had been hurt, there would have been no way to get help.”
Fortunately, there were no serious injuries during either storm period. It was reported in Virginia Chumley’s column in the News-Free Press that Emmy Govan West suffered ajolting fall, bad enough to send her to the hospital for a checkup. There she joined her husband, Jim, already in for an operation.
Some lighter moments occurred during the tragedy, as they usually do. Peg Gifford, then a food columnist for The Times, was among those who “stayed up” for the duration, rather than “going down” to rented quarters in the city. She reported that those with hot water available from gas-heated tanks, were “not at all surprised to have a neighbor arrive at the door, towel in hand, and inquiring as to whether it would be convenient for him or herto have a bath right then.”
“Meals were sometimes pooled under a warm roof and fancy food from thawing freezers was in abundance,” she wrote.
“The chafing dish became very useful for scrambling eggs, heating soup, chili and most anything else that came out of a can. It did not turn out very satisfactory French toast.
“Bread could be turned into toast with a little light maneuvering (over hot coals) if you didn’t mind a slight dusting of ash ... An inverted flower pot sitting in the fireplace made an ideal perch for the ever-steaming tea kettle.”
Meanwhile, downtown hostelries were all but bursting at the seams as temporary ‘‘refugee centers” for families from the stricken mountains. The Read House and the Hotel Patten each had at least 200 such guests, as did the Albert Pick Motel. The Drake, at the foot of the mountain, reported 150.
“History,” says a Lookout Mountain philosopher who requests anonymity for some reason, “is throwing away, abandoning, misplacing and misfiling things until you can see what is left.”
Buck Stamps, recreation director on Lookout, organized play periods and entertainment sessions for the children at the Read House, and similar programs were arranged at the other hotels.
S. K. Johnston, president of the Saddle and Cattle Club, sponsored a “Refugee Party” at the Read House, with the avowed purpose of acquainting people “from Lookout with people from Signal — and in some cases, people from Lookout with other people from Lookout.” The Patten had its “Break the Ice Party.”
The worst was over in ten days or so, but as someone wrote, “the sound of the chainsaw was heard in the land” for much longer.
Quickly now, where is the Green Street Bridge? The Old Man of the Mountain? Site of the world’s first miniature golf course? The Rifle Pits?
All are on Lookout Mountain, but how quickly could we spot them for a stranger?
Too often we fail to familiarize ourselves with the community’s attractions before an out-of-town guest requests to see them. McCoy Campbell suggests a remedy: Get into a car and renew acquaintance with the places people from all over come HERE to see.
His directions for a morning’s drive follow:
Start at Reflection Riding at the foot of the Mountain, taking time to enjoy its variety of carefully labelled plants and trees. Take notice of the panoramic view of the Mountain’s west brow, particularly Sunset Rock which from this angle resembles the profile of an Indian chief. Visit the Nature Center’s exhibits.
Go north on Garden Road and up Wauhatchie Pike (318 South) to Scenic Highway (148 North). Note the marker at the first turn designating the site of a 1782 skirmish between colonials and Indians, sometimes called “the last battle of the Revolution.”
South on Scenic is Ruby Falls, offering an elevator ride of more than 200 feet through solid rock down to the trail leading to the waterfall so far beneath the surface.
A mile up from
Cross the Incline overpass, continuing 1.1 miles to the top of the Mountain. Turn right on East Brow Road, noting markers concerning the University of the South, the Lookout Mountain Hotel built in 1857, and the early Summertown settlement.
The Incline Railway Station is .6 mile further on. Across East Brow Road from the station are the sites of the 420-room Lookout Mountain Inn, which burned in the early 1900s, and of the terminus of the so-called Broad Gauge Railroad which ran from Chattanooga to the top of the mountain for several years.
Hard at hand isthe
entrance to Point Park with its historical treasures of markers, monuments and
weaponry. Points of greatest interest include the Visitors’ Center with a
recently restored 13’x31’ painting of Battle Above the
Clouds,
On leaving the Park, following directional signs back to East Brow, turn right and go .1 mile to N. Bragg, turn right .4 mile to W. Watkins, right .3 mile to West Brow. Turn left .4 mile to entrance to Sunset Rock which is reached by a short and somewhat precipitous walk. The view is worth it. South on Bluff Trail a short distance will take you to the Garden of the Gods with its rock formations.
Continue on West Brow .6 mile to the Fountain. On the right is the Town Common; to the left. 1 mile on Scenic Highway is the Green Street Bridge. The glen to the left and right of the bridge is another historical area, at one time or another encompassing the Natural Bridge Hotel, the headquarters for the
ne of the less well remembered natural
formations on
If one spoke into the openings, a person at the
Spiritualists’ Association; Aldehoff’s Institute, an early school; and the Natural Bridge itself, which alone remains and may be seen to the left.
Just ahead, turn left on North Bragg .3 mile to see on the left the profiled face of the Old Man of the Mountain.
Turn the car around and, driving south, cross Scenic continuing on S. Bragg which angles into (and becomes) Fleetwood Drive. Drive on Fleetwood, bearing left at a split in the road, and at .9 mile from the Old Man, note a marker on left noting the site of the Lookout Mountain Educational Institute established in 1866. Continue on Fleetwood for .6 mile to the former Fairyland Inn which was opened in 1925 and became the Fairyland Club a few years later. The first Tom Thumb Golf Course was built on the grounds of the Club.
Continue on Fleetwood to Red Riding Hood, turning right anddriveto Aladdin Road, 1.8milesfrom the Club. Turn right on Aladdin Road and notice immediately on the left in the backyard of 105 Red Riding Hood a welded steel sculpture, “The Archer,” by Tom Runnells.
Turn around and cross Red Riding Hood, continuing to Rock City Trail. Turn left and go .1 mile to Rock City itself, for as long a visit as desired.
Around and beyond Rock City on Wood Nymph Trail, there is a point 1.5 miles from Rock City, where the road veers sharply around the Golf Course, from which a breathtaking view of the valley below is possible.
Continue .9 mile to Lula Lake Road, turn right and go 1.1 miles to intersection with Scenic Highway. Turn left and go 1.8 miles to Covenant College which was once the Lookout Mountain Hotel and later Castle in the Clouds before being purchased in 1964 for use of the Presbyterian school. It is a fine place to end the drive.
other end could hear quite distinctly — no doubt the origin of its name.
One Mountain resident says that her mothertook her swain there one day to test the phenomenon. As she bent to listen, she heard more than sweet nothings. From his vantage point there came words of a proposal; from hers there followed those of acceptance. And so they were married.
THE PEOPLE
In its June 1868 issue, Harper’s New Monthly Magazine carried an article by William F. G. Shanks entitled “Lookout Mountain, and How We Won It,’’a review written some five years after the fact of the Battle Above the Clouds. Understandably, the perspective is that of a northern reporter who writes at one point of the action, “Pride must ever have a fall, and Lookout was soon humbled. It is fortunate that the way in which [Gen. Joseph] Hooker scaled the mountain has been well preserved in painting and in print, or posterity, looking on the battle field, would be certain to doubt the story as a legend -one of the many fables of history - or else conclude that Hooker and his men were giants, to have hurled an enemy from such a position.’’
Kinchen W. Exum, long a
diligent student of the War Between the States and the Southerners who fought
in it, believes that as a result of accounts “slowly coming to light” from
various sources, “a fairer,
more accurate appraisal is emerging. ” He quotes from an
hitherto unpublished journal of Confederate Capt. William Eulford Glover, as
substantiation of the assertion that there is “another side of the coin” as far
as
Both viewpoints are presented, the first an excerpt from the Shanks article, the second a commentary by Mr. Exum.
The “battle above the clouds,” as Hooker’s assault of Lookout was happily called by Gen. Montgomery Meigs, was one of the most remarkable tactical operations ever accomplished. . . .
During the night before the engagement (Nov. 24,1863) a slight, misty rain had fallen, and when the sun rose next morning, cold and dull, the fog hung heavily over the river and drifting slowly southward, enveloped the mountain and admirably served as a convenient mask to Hooker’s movements.
As the day advanced, however, the fog began to lift and was fast disappearing when the heat of battle was reached. The smoke of musketry and artillery mingling with the mist, the clouds grew heavy again and settled down close upon the mountain, so that at one time they hid the contending forces from the view of those in the valley; and thus Hooker literally fought the bold and adventurous battle of Lookout Mountain above clouds of his own manufacture.
The plan of battle was unique, original and daring. A small force under Gen. Peter B. Osterhauswas ordered to make a feint upon the enemy’s rifle pits at the point and near the western base of the mountain, while the commands of Gens. Geary, Crufts, and Whitaker moved up Lookout Valley until they were a mile in rear of the enemy’s position; these troops then ascended the side of the ridge until the head of the column reached the Palisades, and formed in line of battle at right angles with them, the whole facing the north. The centre of this line ran across the level sward or “bench” of the mountain, and could move with little difficulty. Having thus formed, the right brigades somewhat advanced, they were ordered to move rapidly northward; and while Osterhaus made a sharp attack as a feint on the works directly in his front, Geary and the others appeared in the rear of the rebel lines, and between their first and second line of defenses. Surprised at being thus taken in flank and rear, the rebels precipitantly abandoned their works and fled around the “nose” to the other side of the mountain, but were so nearly cut off and so closely pursued that they lost thirteen hundred prisoners and small-arms and several pieces of artillery. Hooker pushed forward in pursuit and still hugging the base of the “Palisades” with his right, swung his left and center around the ridge of the “nose” of the mountain, and with his command moving southward instead of northward, attacked the rebel works on the eastern slope of the “White House.”
The most desperate
fighting of the battle took place at this point, and it was not until
This he did not fully succeed in doing, and the enemy, who still held it when the battle was ended at midnight, took the very wise precaution of escaping before morning. When morning came a reconnaissance of the road was ordered. In the meantime, some of the troops constructed a rude ladder, with which they scaled the “Palisades” and planted the “stars and stripes” on the highest point of the mountain. And they have never since been removed by hostile hands.
Writing the Confederate side of events that took place during that war on Lookout Mountain, if the Federal historians are to be regarded as reliable, could very briefly be summed up to their satisfaction by saying, “They beat hell out of us!”
They even erected immense monuments to memorialize their victories when details of the battles are less obvious.2 Most of the records we have were written by Northern historians, but this is slowly being corrected.
The other side of the coin is the Confederate side. Accounts written by them are slowly coming to light, and a fairer, more accurate appraisal is emerging.
Maj. Gen. Braxton Bragg is the leading contender for being the worst general in the Confederate Army. He was no stranger to Chattanooga when he was given command here. In 1837 he was a lieutenant during the infamous removal of the Cherokee Indians; he served in the Seminole War, and had a brilliant career in the Mexican War.
When he came to Chattanooga the second time, he was received cordially by Gen. Edmund Kirby-Smith, in command of East Tennessee. The commanding general was somewhat dismayed by Bragg’s slovenly appearance and brusque behavior, to which he was unaccustomed as a gentleman.4
Antebellum Lookout Mountain, up to the beginning of this war, was mostly a place of summer residences, with its “Summertown” and Lookout Mountain House, a hotel owned by Col. James A. Whiteside, beyond question the first to realize the tourist potential of the Mountain’s scenery and climate.5
After Bragg’s magnificent success at Chick-amauga, he acted like a skilled surgeon who had removed an appendix and had forgotten to sew up his patient. The Federal army was in a rout to Chattanooga and he could have easily followed them and taken many prisoners and spoils of war. As a “psychotic warrior,” he did nothing, and this was the beginning of a long line of no follow-ups. It is true he had a front extending from the southern end of Missionary Ridge to Lookout Mountain, a distance of seven miles. But the fleeing Feds retreated into a beleaguered and subsequently besieged Chattanooga as Gen. U.S. Grant noted on arrival.
Instead of taking prisoners, Bragg fell into a series of petty, name-calling disputes with his officers, who almost uniformly agreed that his motivations were peevish, self-centered, and psychotic.7 He had the unswerving support of President Jefferson
Davis, and this continued as long as the Confederacy was to last. The details of what took place on Lookout Mountain are arranged in chronological order in the accompanying article written by a Federal soldier as this appeared in 1868, who said most of the fighting took place near the Cravens House, this restored residence having served as headquarters for both sides. After the battle it was picked to pieces by souvenir hunters and veterans.
No more than 2,000 Confederate soldiers were ever on Lookout Mountain. The Fed writer says 1,300 were taken prisoners. Ifthiscan be trusted, that would leave only 700 Confederates to defend Lookout Mountain against the hordes of Feds who were climbing towards the point under cover of dense underbrush and cloudy mists.
As we noted, Bragg’s front covered a seven-mile stretch, and food supplies, always crucial, and ammunition were getting perilously low. Capt. William Eulford Glover’sjournal, heretofore unpublished, tells how in the evening of the last day there was no ammunition and how the Confederates, desperate, rolled logs against attackers. Logs are not very effective against bullets.a
Bragg’s situation was now
desperate. No ammunition. No food. Scores of Fed soldiers were worming their
way towards his position on the Point. Nightfall came as a benediction, and
under cover of darkness he moved his troops seven miles away from the Point to
For his retreat from the Point and his defeat at Missionary Ridge, scorn and contempt were to follow him for the rest of his days. One old lady said, “I wish General Bragg were dead and in heaven. I think it would be a Godsend to the Confederacy.”
“Why, my dear,” replied her friend, “if the General were near the gates of heaven, and invited in, at the critical moment he would ‘fall back.’ ”9
Bragg’s retreat from
“As at
—Kinchen Exum
Footnotes
1. Confederates had a variety of words they used when referring to members of the Grand Army of the Republic, most of which are not "within parlor parlance." The word "yankee ” Is generic and therefore not proper. "Feds" will be used herein.
2. Remember the poem by Robert Southey in which the glories of victory are emphasized but the horrors of warfare are not mentioned?
3. One Conn ally cousin in Texas will not discuss this war, saying it is not over yet.
4. This dismay turned
into disgust. See Don C. Seitz' "Braxton Bragg, General of the
Confederacy.”
5. His second wife, Leonora
Straw (Stroh) Whiteside, was enterprising in her own right. Earlier she bought
up all tobacco supplies in
6. See Clifford Dowdey's
“The Land They Fought For: The Story of the South As the Confederacy."
7. See the letters by Bishop/General Leonidas Polk in the rare book room of the library at Louisiana State University, Baton Rouge, La., for a good example of what Bragg’s officers had to contend with from him.
8. Capt. Glover was a
member of the Alabama Volunteers, was captured at the
9. See the preface to
"Braxton Bragg and Confederate Defeat," Vol. I, by
Grady McWhiney.
I our wars have tested the
valor of the nation since the turn of the century, and scarcely a family on
The names of twenty residents of the Mountain are enshrined on the list of the Killed in Action, those who gave their lives in the service of their country in the course of battle. In any enumeration of those having served in the nation’s armed forces, they are in the forefront of the honored:
William C. Adams
Glenn W. Connelly J. Martin
George T. Bright Sam R. Connelly Jr. Thomas C. Latimore
Samuel A. Bush C. Foster Goodwin Robert C. McGee
John B. Caldwell James R. Griswold S. Russell McGee III
David J. Chambliss Robert L. Hall Jr. Douglas G. McMillin
Thomas W. Chandler Oscar Handly Jr. William G. Schultz
C. H. Miller Smith Calvin Smith Jr.
Following is a list, as
complete as it could be made from solicitation and research, of the men and
women of
William Clarke Adams, 1st
Lt., Air Corps, WW II.
Karen
Alexander, Airman,
William G. Agnew, Cmndr., Navy, WW II.
Charles W. Anderson, 2nd Lt., Air Corps, WW II.
Mary Cunningham Alexander, CpI., Army, WW II.
Arthur M. Allen, Lt., USNR, WW II.
Edwin B. Anderson, S/Sgt., Army, WW II.
J. J. Armstrong, Sgt., Army WW I; civilian inductee examining physician, WW II.
Jon J. Armstrong Jr.,
Capt., USAF,
James Hal Asbury, Major, Coast Artillery, WW II.
David S.
Barrows, S/Sgt., USAF,
Roy M.
Barrows Jr., M/Sgt., Marine Corps, WW II and
Harold L. Barrows, Sgt., Army, WW II.
John
Bennett, Lt. Col.,
James K.
Bennett, Lt.,
William H. Bennett, Sgt., Army, WW I.
Frances
Jean Biddle, Capt., Army, WW II and
William Russell Bishop,
M.D.,
Stephen
G. Bradley, Lt.,
William H. Bradley, 2nd Lt., Army, 1971-72.
Peter
Branton III, Capt., Army, WW II and
Frank Brock, Capt., USAF,
Paul K.
Brock, Sgt.,
Richard Brock, Lt. Cmndr., Navy, WW II.
William
E. Brock III, Lt.,
T. Walter Brown, Lt. jg., Navy, WW II.
William G. Brown, Lt., USNR, WW II.
Bates
Carey
Bryan, Sp/5,
Clayton Bryan Jr., 1st Lt., Army, 1962-63.
Henry T. Bryan Jr., Capt., Army, WW I.
Henry T. Bryan III, Pfc., Army, WW II.
Christopher I. Bryan, Lt., Army, WW II.
William
M. Bryan, Lt., Army Tank
W. W. Bill Burbank, Major, USAF, WW II.
Dyer Butterfield Jr., Major, Army, WW II.
Christopher Williams Caldwell, Marine Corps, WW I.
L. Hardwick Caldwell, Naval Aviation, WW I.
Hardwick Caldwell Jr., Ensign, Naval Aviation, WW II.
Robert Henry Caldwell, 1st Lt., Field Artillery, WW II.
George S. Campbell, Lt., USNR, WW II.
McCoy C.
Campbell, 1st Lt., Army Anti-Aircraft Artillery, WW II.
Douglas Chamberlain, M.D.,
Capt., Army Medical Corps, WW II.
Hiram S. Chamberlain, Lt. jg, Navy, WW II.
David J. Chambliss, Lt., Army Intelligence, WW II.
David
Sizer Chambliss, S/2c,
Jac Chambliss, Lt., Navy, Gunnery Ofcr., WW II.
Robert Chambliss, Lt., Air Corps, WW II.
E. Y. Chapin III, 2nd Lt., Army, WW II.
Mildred Toner Chapin, USAF, WW II.
William S. Chapman, Army, WW II.
William
A. Chipley, Major, Marine Corps, WW II and
Charles S. Chisolm, Lt. Col., Army, WW II.
Charles
B. Chitty, Capt.,
A. Paul Christensen, Capt., Army Engrs., WW II.
Charles S. Coffey, Lt., Navy, WW II.
John B. Coffey, Capt., Army, WW II.
Robert L. Coffey, S/2c, Navy, WW II.
William M. Coffey, Capt., Army, WW II.
Richard D. Crotteau, Capt., USAF, 1959-67.
Reginald W. Crouch, Capt.,
Marine Corps,
William Crutchfield, C/P, Navy, WW I,
William
Crutchfield Jr.,
J.
Dennis Davis, Army, WW I.
Rad
Davis, Ag/3,
Ted Davis, T/Sgt., Army, WW II.
Joe Donnovin, 1st Lt.,
Army, Spec. Forces, Dominican Rep.
Stokely E. Doster, Lt. jg., Navy Submarine Svc., WW II.
Charles
W. Doubleday, Capt.,
T. O. Duff Jr., Lt. jg., USNR, WW II.
T. O.
Duff III, S/2c,
R. Allen Edgar, Capt.,
James T. Efurd, 1st Lt., USAF, WW II.
Wilson H. Ellis, Capt., Army, WW II.
David W. Evans Jr.. Lt. Col., Army and AF, WW II and
Theo
Evans Jr., G/3c, Navy, WW II and
William E. Ezell,
Floyd Feely, Sgt., USAF, WW II.
Don Ferguson, 1st Lt., Paratroopers, WW II.
James Fort, 1st Lt., Army, WW II.
John T. Fort, Lt. Col., USAF, WW II.
Merlyn L. Fordice, Radarman/2c, Coast Guard, WW II.
John I. Jack Foster, Jr., Major, USAF, WW II.
French Benham Frazier, Cmndr., USNR, WW II.
Frances Lindfors Frazier, Lt. jg., Navy, WW II.
T. Cartter Frierson, 1st
Lt., Army Intelligence, 1962-64.
Eleanor M. Frye, Lt., Navy, WW II.
I.
Thomas G.
Garner Jr., Sgt., Army Security Agency, 1951-53.
Frank M. Gault, S/Sgt., Army, WW II.
Frank N.
Gibson, 1st Lt.,
James R.
Gifford, Lt.,
Tom Gifford, Lt. jg., Coast Guard, 1970-72.
Henry Gilman, Sgt., Army Medical Corps, WW II.
James C. Glascock, 1st Lt., USAF, WW II.
Timothy B. Glascock, Sgt./1c, Coast Guard.
Al
Gothard, M.D., Capt., Army Medical
Marshall Goree, 1st Lt., Armored Field Artillery, WW II.
David W. Gott, Lt. Col., Army Air Corps, WW II.
Rick
Govan, 1st Lt., Army Signal
Robert A. Greene, Lt., USNR, WW II.
Robert Henry Griffith, Army, WW I.
James Robert Griswold, Lt., USNR, WW II.
Alex Guerry, Lt. Col., USAF, WW II.
John P.
Guerry, 1st Lt., Army, WW II and
Charles H. Harris III. 1st
Lt., USAF,
Dawson Hall, Lt., Navy, WW II.
Robert Leavell Hall Jr., Pfc., Army WW II.
Hayter
Haynes, Capt.,
William Kelso Hailey, Flight Ofcr., Air Corps, WW II.
John R. Hill
Jr., M.D., Lt.,
Edwin Y.
Hines, 1st Lt.,
Albert Hodge, Major, Army JAG, WW II.
Thomas B. Hooker, 1st Lt., Army, WW II.
Arch Howell, Capt., Army, WW II.
William C. Hudlow Jr., Ensign, Naval Aviation, WW II.
Albert P.
Jackson, Capt.,
C. Anthony Jackson, Cmndr.,
H. L. Jacobs, Lt. Col., Army, WW II.
Paul F.
Jacobs Jr., 1st Lt.,
H. Clay Evans Johnson, Lt. Cmndr., Navy, WW II.
Joseph Johnson, M.D., Army Medical Corps, WW II.
Joseph Thomas
Johnson, Lt.,
James Lamont Johnston, Capt., USNR, WW II.
Claude W. Joiner, PFC, Army WW I.
Claude W. Joiner Jr., Lt. jg., Navy, WW II.
Homer Joiner, S/1c, Navy, WW II.
James M. Joiner, Lt., USAF, Korea.
T. A. Juhring, Capt., Army, WW I and WW II.
James D. Kennedy Jr., Sgt., Army, WW II.
George G. Kerr, Lt., Air Corps, WW II.
W. M. Keyser, Cmndr., Navy WW II.
John F. Killebrew, 1st Lt., Army, 1964-66.
Theo F. King Jr., 1st Lt., Army, 1954-56.
Forrest Kirkpatrick, T/Sgt., Army, WW II.
William H. Kirkpatrick, S/Sgt., Army, WW II.
John
Kovacevich, Capt., USAF, WW II and
John Kovacevich Jr., Major, Marine Corps, 1970—active duty.
Dan Latimore, Ensign, Navy, WW I.
Thomas C. Latimore, Cmndr., Navy, WW I and WW II.
William S. Latimore, Lt., Army, WW I.
W. S. Latimore Jr., Ensign, Navy, WW II.
Halbert G. Law, Cmndr., Navy, WW II.
H. Grant
Law Jr., Lt.,
George B. Lawley, 2nd Lt., USAF, WW II.
Aaron Lawrence Jr., CpI.,
Joe Lawrence, S/Sgt., Field Artillery, WW II.
George W. Long, 1st Lt., Air Corps, WW II.
William
R. Love, Lt.
John T. Lupton, Radioman, Navy, WW II.
Carter J. Lynch, Sgt., Air Corps, WW II.
Arthur R. MacFadden, Lt. Col., USAF, WW II.
Hugh O. Maclellan, Major, USAF, WW II.
Robert L. Maclellan, Lt. Col., Army, WW II.
Tim J. Manson Jr., M.D., Capt., Army, WW II.
Will H. Martin, Sgt.,
W. L. McAllester Jr., S/Sgt., Anti-Aircraft Artillery, WW II.
Cooper McCall, M.D., Major, ATC, WW II.
John McCall, M/Sgt., Army.
Peter McCall, S/1c, Navy.
Thomas F. McCarry, Cmndr., Navy, WW II.
John E.
McDaniel, E/5,
David McElvain, CpI.,
William McElvain, CpI.,
Frank McElvain, PFC, Army, WW II.
Roland McElvain,
PFC,
William McElvain Sr., Navy.
John R. McGauley, Capt., Army, WW II.
George E. McGee III, Sgt., Marine Corps, Korea.
John
McGee, Lt.,
King McGee, Lt. jg.,
Robert McGee, WW II.
S. Russell McGee Jr., Lt, jg., Navy, WW II.
S.
Russell McGee III, M/c,
Joe McGinness, Lt. Cmndr., Navy, WW II.
Douglas Garvin McMillin, 1st Lt., USAF, WW II.
Edwyn
West
Douglass
N. McMillin,
Charles R. Megahee, Capt., USAF, 1960-65.
Carnot
Milligan Jr., Capt., Army, WW II and
Fred Mansfield Milligan
Sr., Lt. jg., Navy, WW II and
David E. Mitchell, Ensign, Naval Aviation, WW II.
William L. Montague, Major, Air Corps, WW II.
William
L. Montague Jr., Spec. E/5,
Felix
Montgomery, Capt.,
Tom Moore Jr., 1st Lt., USAF, WW II.
Christopher T. Moore, PFC, Army, WW II.
Hugh Morrow Jr., Lt., USAF, Korea.
Norman L.
Morrow, CW/4, Army Medical Corps, WW II and
Ed Newell, M.D., Lt. Col., Army Medical Corps, WW II.
Charles L. Nix, EM/3, Navy, 1958-1961.
N. R. Nichols III, Capt., Army 10th Mtn. Inf. Div., WW II.
Leonard A. Nixon, Radio-Gunner/1c, Naval Aviation, WW II.
Lewis W. Oehmig, Lt., Navy, WW II.
Von Daniel Oehmig, Major, Air Corps, WW II.
Herschel E. Page, Capt., USAF, Korea.
William
Moore Parham, Lt.,
Fred W. Paschall Jr., Capt., Army.
William Polite, Army, WW I.
John N. Popham, Capt., Marine Corps, WW II.
William G. Raoul, Lt. Col., Army, WW II.
Ben Rawlings Jr., RM/2c, Navy, WW II.
James G. Rawlings, Col., Army Engineers, WW II.
James
Scott Rawlings,
Peter C. Rawlings, Major, Army Medical Corps, 7 years.
Walter Sadd Red, M/Sgt., Army, WW II.
Mercer Reynolds Jr., Capt., Air Corps, WW II.
Gilbert M. Roberts Jr.,
M.D., Lt. Cmndr., Naval Aviation, WW II
Guy Rose,
2nd Lt.,
F. P. Ryan, Lt. Cmndr., Navy, WW II.
Otis H. Segler, Lt. jg., Navy, WW II.
Herschel V. Sellers Jr., Cmndr., Navy, WW II and
Nicholas Senter, T/Sgt., Air Corps, WW II.
Don T.
Settles, Major, Marine Corps, WW II and
William Gray Shultz, Lt., Army, WW II.
Toby
Silberman, E/4,
L. Durwood Sies Jr., Capt., USAF, WW II.
John Smartt, Sgt., USAF, WW II.
Calvin Smith Jr., Naval Aviation, Vietnam.
E. L.
Kittrell Smith, Lt.,
William L. Smith, Capt., Army, WW II.
Owen R. Smyth, T/3, Army, WW II.
Richard M. Stilwell, EM/1c, Navy, WW II.
Douglas R. Stone Sr., PFC, Army, WW II.
William F. Stone Jr., 1st Lt., USAF, WW II.
Wesley Stoneburner, M.D.,
Capt., Army Medical Corps, WW II.
William E. Striebinger, 1st Lt., Army, WW II.
Doyle L.
Swafford, Sp.5,
Albert Taber, Sgt., Army, WW I.
Edward W. Taliaferro, 1st Lt., Army.
Henry F. Tarver, Lt., USAF, WW II.
Viston
Taylor, 1st Lt.,
Gregory LeBron Toney, Sgt. E/5, Army.
John Michael Thatcher, Pfc., Army, WW II.
Joseph W. Thatcher, Lt., Navy, WW II.
Richard C. Thatcher Jr., Lt., Navy, WW II.
Newsom L. Thomas, PFC, Army QMC, WW II.
Locke Thomison, Lt. jg., Naval Reserve, WW II.
George S. Van Deusen, Capt., Army, WW II.
Allen
Voges, S/Sgt., USAF,
Charles
H. von Canon, Capt., Army Medical Corps,
Stan Vreeland, Sgt., Army, WW II.
Harry Lee
Walton, Lt. Cmndr.,
Donald L.
Wamp Sr., Capt.,
Carrie Warley Washington, WAC, WW II.
James F. Waterhouse, 1st Lt., Army, WW II.
Albert L. Watson III, 2nd Lt., Army Reserve, 1969-72.
D. L.
Webb, 1st Lt.,
H. A. Webb, Major, USAF, WW II.
John Gibbon Webb, Lt., USNR, WW II.
Blair Weigel, Capt., Air Corps, WW II.
J. Ralston Wells, Sgt., Army, WW II.
Charles Vines White III, E/4, Vietnam, Army.
Russell Edwin White, Lt. Col., Army, WW II.
Joe V. Williams Jr., Lt., Navy, WW II.
Joe V. Williams III. Lt., Army, 1969-71.
Silas Williams, Major, Army, WW I.
Silas Williams Jr., Sgt., Army, WW II.
Silas
Williams III, YN/2,
Joseph Harvey Wilson Jr., Major, USAF, WW II.
John P. Wright, 1st Lt., USAF, WW II.
James Yandle, Lt. Col., Air Corps, WW II.
War Debts
—Kathryn King
R/l en in the armed services means women at work on the home front.
Mrs. T. H. McClure of Lookout Mountain knew the full meaning of the aphorism. She had experience iin two World Wars and one other bitter conflict in organizing the tremendous effectiveness of the women at home in performance of vital services in wartime.
In World War I, she set up and directed a railroad canteen which marked the real initiation of Red Cross activities in Chattanooga. Her volunteers met all troop trains, serving sandwiches, coffee and doughnuts to the travel weary soldiers aboard.
As chairman of volunteer services of the local Red Cross chapter for 45 years, Mrs. McClure was director of the canteen, the Gray Ladies, nurses aides and the motor corps.
During World War II, many mothers, daughters and sweethearts of the men away joined forces to make a record 9,500,000 surgical dressings as well as sewing and knitting thousands of garments for servicemen. Hospital service by the Gray Ladies and nurses aides, motor corps service in errands between various work centers, canteens at bus and train depots and in military camps also occupied the time and energies of the women at home.
When the Korean conflict brought special demands, Mrs. McClure was ready with her devotion and service. Although her death occurred before the Viet Nam war, her spirit lived on through the actions of other volunteers.
Lookout Mountain, like every other well defined residential community, had its groups at work in church parlors, school gyms and other public facilities, doing whatever tasks that could be brought to them in a decentralized effort.
Among the Lookout Mountain residents who worked in various home site Red Cross activities were these:
Mrs. William Crutchfield, Mrs. T. C. Thompson, Miss Viva Montague, Mrs. George Scholze Jr., Mrs. Bob Thomas, Mrs. Octavia Sizer Lane, Mrs. Albert Taber, Mrs. Franklin Bogart, Mrs. George R. West Jr., Mrs. Lucius Mansfield, Mrs. Margaret Ochs Palmer, Mrs. Robert Hall, Mrs. W. D. Gilman Jr., Mrs. Henry Bryan, Mrs. E. W. McMillin, Mrs. William McGinness, Mrs. Joe McGinness, Mrs. Paul Johnson, Mrs. E. E. Pickard, Mrs. Mark Senter, Mrs. Julian Ragland, Mrs. Dudley Porter, Miss Marie Gager, Mrs. William Montague, Mrs. Newell Sanders, Mrs. Con Milligan, Mrs. Gardner Bright, Mrs. Dave Evans, Mrs. Tom Moore, Mrs. James A. Glascock, Mrs. E. Y. Chapin Jr., and Mrs. Eleanor Caldwell.
In addition to those who served at home, a number of Red Cross workers were assigned to Armed Forces units and worked in hospitals, on troop trains, ships and planes. These members were trained for World War II service at the American University in Washington and then attached to various branches of the services where they were under military regulations. Among them were Alice Warner Milton, Nelsie Long, Sarah Thompson Gilman, Martha Gundaker and Margaret Cooley.
I n World War II, as in conflicts before, the wives of men in the ranks fought their own battles against the consuming pressures of waiting and worrying.
One group on Lookout Mountain added another facet to their routine — a set time each week in which to shed, as best they could, their burdens of responsibilities in a cheerful session of caring and sharing, of recreation and restoration.
Its membership included Mrs. Dawson Hall, Mrs. Ray Howe, Mrs. Jac Chambliss, Mrs. Douglas Chamberlain, Mrs. William Bacon, Mrs. Cooper McCall, Mrs. Tommy Chandler, along with others from time to time. They called themselves the Lonely Hearts Club and they devoted themselves, in their meetings, to easing the weight of their circumstances.
A story by Vivian Browne
in The Chattanooga Times of
“There’s a courageous little club of war wives on Lookout Mountain. They have children and they work hard on their homes. But once a week they leave children with grandmothers or day maids — if they are so lucky to have one — ‘break their necks to catch the Incline, eat supper downtown, goto a movie, and then dash home, breathless,’ one little matron said. But it’s fun and recreation and they need it.
“ ‘First thing we talk about,’ I was informed, ‘is our husbands. Who’s heard from Europe or Pacific? Then we talk of the wash, the meals, the children, some more about husbands and the war, and then some more about the wash.
“ ‘We talk of training-camp days and how the Government ought to hand out with every commission a jar of wrinkle cream for the wife.
“ ‘We talk about cooking. Most of us learned the hard way and for months our food was well salted with tears. You may say it is lucky our husbands aren’t at home to see the early results of biscuit and cake making, roasts and stews, but it’s mighty hard to have husband and cook torn from one’s bosom at once.
“ 'We seldom have blues —we don’t have time. And our motto is, “We’ll win the war if the grandmothers just hold out.” Our mothers have been grand to us — maybe it’s because they remember the other war so well — and they stand by our attempts to cook and keep house, and they mind the children when we get our infrequent chance to get together and play bridge or go to town.’ ”
It may have seemed an eternity at the time, but the grandmothers did hold out, the war was won and the husbands did get back.
Not all those who willingly served in the World War II years went far afield in answer to the call of duty. Several residents of Lookout Mountain, past the normal military age, were members of a volunteer Coast Guard Reserve unit patrolling the Tennessee River and guarding Chickamauga Dam.
Reporting for duty one night a week, relieving similar groups, were George S. Johnston, Robert S. Killebrew, W. D. Pettway, J. P. Rickman, Robert H. Griffith, Summerfield Johnston and Joe Allison.
They served from April 6, 1943 until Nov. 1, 1944.
Governmental Functions They Approved:
The Town of Lookout Mountain, Tennessee, was first incorporated in 1890. Its boundaries were fixed as the Tennessee-Georgia State line and the tops of the bluffs. In 1899, an attempt was made to extend the boundaries to include “Point Hotel.” The hotel was located below the bluff at Umbrella Rock. About five or six stories high, its upper story came up above the bluff line.
In attempting to include this property within the corporate boundary, a mistake was made which had the effect of making the Town of Lookout Mountain consist of nothing but Point Hotel. In 1905, the situation was corrected by charter amendment.
The original charter of 1890 provided for government by a board of three commissioners. In 1909, an amendment provided that a mayor, treasurer and secretary would be elected, who would be the three commissioners of the town. Prior to that time, the commissioners had elected a mayor from among
themselves after their election as commissioners. In 1911, the method of government was provided which is presently in effect, the election of five commissioners, who in turn elect from among themselves, a mayor, vice-mayor, and a treasurer and town clerk.
The original charter made no provision for any school directors. They were first provided in the amendment of 1899, which called for three school directors, whose function was to establish a public school system for the Town. Apparently they took their duties seriously, for in 1909 the charter was amended to provide that at least as much revenue would have to be used for streets as was used for schools. In 1927, a big change was made in the town school system, with control and management of the town schools being transferred to the county, and with the school board function being limited to an advisory capacity thereafter. This is presently the situation.
The original charter made no provision for a town marshal or town recorder (which is our town judge). First provision for these offices was made in the act of 1899, which provided for their appointment by the board of commissioners. In 1909, this was changed to provide for the election of the town marshal and the town recorder at the same time that the board of commissioners was elected. This continued until 1915, when the election of the marshal and recorder was deleted, and their status reverted to that of appointed officials, which is also the present situation.
At the first, there was apparently not much need for many meetings of the governing body. The original charter didn’t even make any provision as to when these meetings should be held. The act of 1899 provided that the meetings should be quarterly. The present charter provides for monthly meetings, and, in fact, there are quite often two or three meetings a month.
The rising cost of government can be seen from the maximum tax rates per $100 assessed value; in 1899, no more than 30 cents, in 1905, no more than 50 cents, in 1909, no more than 90 cents, and in 1911, no more than $1.00. The present charter does not specify a maximum tax. The 1986tax ratewas$3.90.
In 1909, a charter amendment provided for a park commission of five members to be elected. The primary function of this commission was to plan for the construction of a “promenade,” 30 feet wide along the East Brow from the United States Park on the north for a distance as far south as this park commission should determine. The 40 cent tax increase mentioned above in 1909 was specified as being for the construction of this promenade.
In 1917, the town charter was amended to allow women to vote. As a matter of fact, a further step was taken in this direction by providing in that same amendment that one of the school directors had to be a woman. This was three years before the 19th Amendment to the Constitution of the United States was adopted as a guarantee of the right of women to vote on a national basis.
In 1933, the Charter of the Town and all of the amendments to it were gathered together and modified into one private act, which, with comparatively minor amendments since then, constitutes the present charter of the Town of Lookout Mountain.
A good illustration of the way such a political entity operates is embodied in a brief description of the town’s coming to grips with the problems of sewerage disposal. The problem originally was dealt with generally by septic tanks for each home or business location.
However, in 1955 a letter to Commissioner P. H. Wood from the superintendent of the Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park brought into focus a problem which had existed for many years — a problem promptly labelled “The Flushing Clubs.” There were two major “clubs” and several minor ones.
One of the major ones
consisted of 25 to 30 homes
Investigation then revealed another similar “Flushing Club” using the sewerage disposal line which had served the hotel located on top of the hill above the incline. This line also then went over the western bluff. Several smaller “clubs” were also discovered emptying over the western bluff, one of which emptied into a cave which had been aptly named either before or after the fact “The Cave of Winds.”
At a special meeting on August 1, 1955, the mayor and commissioners started tackling the problem. The board first made it clear that the town was not assuming liability for the problems, and a number of prominent citizens who had been invited to attend made it equally clear that their presence and suggestions should not be construed as an admission of liability on their part. With these disclaimers on record, the board decided to seek advice from engineers about solving the problem.
Eight years later an engineer’s survey was presented proposing a two-stage $1,700,000 sewerage disposal system for the town. On July 23, 1963, the board and two former mayors met in special session to discuss the matter, and the inclination was to try to solve only the problem presented by the “Flushing Clubs,” not to install a system for the entire community. For the next year all aspects of the problem received intense study and even more intense discussion, public and private. Finally, the board called a town meeting on November 16, 1964, at which all aspects of the problem were explained and debated. The following September an election was held to determine the will of the citizens concerning issuance of $1,750,000 bonds to finance construction of a sanitary sewerage collection system. The vote was 505 for and 118 against. Thus ended the political process from which the comprehensive sewerage system resulted.
Leading citizens of Lookout Mountain have taken their turn over the years in serving as mayor or on the town commission. Complete official records, however, are not available for the first half of the town’s nearly 100 years of existence, and a full list cannot be compiled. Records since 1952 show the names of the following as town officials:
1952: J. Burton Frierson Jr., mayor; N. F. Senter, J. W. Wann, S. K. Johnston and J. B. Crimmins, commissioners.
1954: J. Burton Frierson, mayor; J. B. Crimmins, P. H. Wood, N. F. Senter, R. L. Maclellan, commissioners.
1956: Cecil Woods, mayor; Robert H. Griffith, Carl E. Weigle, Nick F. Senter, Richard H. Houck, commissioners.
1958: Cecil Woods, mayor; Robert H. Griffith, Richard Houck, Nick F. Senter, Carl E. Weigle, commissioners.
1960: Robert Griffith, mayor (died 1962); L. H. Caldwell Sr., replacement for mayor; Nick Senter, Pemberton Cooley Jr., W. Lane Verlenden, Charles W. Wheland, commissioners.
1962: Charles W. Wheland, mayor; Nick Senter,
Pemberton Cooley Jr., W. Lane Verlenden, William G. Raoul, commissioners.
1964: Charles W. Wheland, mayor; Nick Senter, Pemberton Cooley Jr., W. Lane Verlenden, William G. Raoul, commissioners.
1966: Charles Wheland, mayor; Nick Senter, Dyer Butterfield Jr., William G. Raoul, James F. Waterhouse, commissioners.
1968: Carter Parham, mayor; Cranston Pearce, Nick Senter, James F. Waterhouse, Dyer Butterfield, commissioners.
1970: Carter Parham, mayor; Dyer Butterfield Jr., Cranston Pearce, Nick Senter, James F. Waterhouse, commissioners.
1972: Carter Parham, mayor; Dyer Butterfield Jr., Nick Senter, John K. Woodworth, Cranston Pearce,commissioners.
1974: Nick Senter, mayor; J. B. Crimmins, Toby Silberman, John K. Woodworth, J. D. Kennedy Jr., commissioners.
1976: Nick Senter, mayor; John K. Woodworth, Toby Silberman, J. B. Crimmins Jr., J. D. Kennedy Jr., commissioners.
1978: Nick Senter, mayor; Nelson Irvine, Gordon Davenport, J. D. Kennedy Jr., J. B. Crimmins, commissioners.
1980: Nick Senter, mayor; Nelson Irvine, Theodore Hutcheson, Gordon Davenport, J. B. Crimmins Jr., Fred Paschall (replaced Nelson Irvine, resigned), Dyer Butterfield (replaced T. Hutcheson, resigned).
1982: Gordon Davenport, mayor; John Guerry, Fred Paschall, Roy Exum, Lucy Thatcher, commissioners.
1984: Fred Paschall, mayor, Lucy Thatcher, Roy Exum, Charles Howell, Joe Persinger, commissioners.
1986: Fred Paschall,
mayor; Lucy Thatcher, Charles Howell, Hardwick
(The history of the
government of the Town of
Over at the Commons, Ned and I threw peanuts at someone. Ned and I dressed like Indians. I threw most of my peanuts away. I wiped cotton candy on a witch’s hat.
—Dan Frierson
I caught a fish. I like the fish. He is living now, I think.
—John Tyler
-From The Mountain Breeze. December 1949
I he Fairyland Community followed a pattern long since set by growing residential areas: it decided to incorporate as a governmental entity when demands for protective services and policies outpaced even the best of volunteer efforts.
Modernized fire equipment, trained manpowerto augment citizen participation, increased policing capability, improved traffic control, extended zoning authority, all were among the long discussed issues leading to the decision to become the Town of Lookout Mountain, Georgia.
Tentative steps in this direction had already been taken. The Fairyland Protective Association was organized in 1963 and a volunteer fire department set up the following year. Names of many of those participating in service are still readily recalled: Charlie Harris, Charles Chisolm, Tom Duff, Bob Huffaker, Raulston Wells, John Smartt, Hal Asbury, Bill Pettway, Ray Murphy, with Mrs. Wells, Mrs. Murphy and Mrs. Huffaker as dispatchers who summoned the men in an emergency.
In 1965, the state legislature passed an act permitting the formation of a fire district, but many felt its powers were still too limited and tax support too small to represent a permanent solution.
Leaders of the community drew up a proposed charter and voters approved it in a referendum in
1968. Election of the first town council followed.
Sherwood Dudley became the
first mayor, sworn in
The legislature set the
town’s boundaries as the
The original council named Bill Sanders as chief of the combined fire and police department, heading a fulltime force of six. The fire division now has one ladder company and three engine companies, and a volunteer force of 36 to call on in protection of the town’s population of approximately 1,600. Some contiguous areas are also served by contract. Chief Sanders recounts with some justifiable pride that in more than 20 years only two residential fires have resulted in total loss of the structures.
The council also is charged with appointment of the town magistrate who disposes of minor cases, referring more serious cases to the county grand jury. Prior to incorporation, this judicial function was discharged by the justice of the peace, a position held for 20 years by Jesse Sims.
The
Official records show at least seven locations for post offices on the Mountain since the Rev. Charles C. Carpenter, appointed postmaster on June 11, 1867, started handling the mail from the Lookout Mountain Educational Institution. There probably have been more.
The department lists the following appointees, following Mr. Carpenter, with the dates of their appointments and, where available, the location of the post office they ran:
Erving O. Tade, July 22, 1872; G. W. Arnold, Dec. 10,1872; Esther A. Waters, May 16,1873; Wiley J. Drinnon, Dec. 9, 1873; Miss Hannah Hill, Aug. 23, 1875; (office discontinued April 17, 1876; reestablished June 5, 1877); George S. Ruble, June 5, 1877; John E. Thinner, June 21, 1881; Miss Elise B. Carlile, Nov. 18, 1881; Mrs. Marion A. Carlile, Dec. 15,1881, office on grounds of Natural Bridge Hotel of which T. J. Carlile was operator; Miss Sue E. Reade, Nov. 6,1883; Harry E. Stoops, Feb. 23,1886; John G. Burton, Oct. 25, 1886; Henry N. McLane, April 1, 1889; John A. Hooke, April 12, 1893; Armstead B. Pullum, April 2, 1897; Edwin A. Hilman, Oct. 5, 1907, located W. Brow Rd. and Watauga Lane; Victor E. DeGeorgis, May 22, 1913, located on Scenic Highway on present site of Baptist Church; John D. M. Marshall, Oct. 16,1919, located on Laurel Lane; Hollis M. Caldwell, Jan. 31, 1934, located on Scenic Highway, present site; Robert E. Barrows, acting postmaster, Nov. 30, 1956, postmaster Sept. 21, 1959; Royce Leonard, officer-in-charge, Sept. 23, 1977; Charles W. Smith, June 17, 1978; Virgil L. Simpson, officer-in-charge, March 21,1980; Kenneth Wayne Guffey, Aug. 9, 1980.
On
“Quick thinking and a cool mind averted what might have been a major disaster Sunday [the day before] when C. G. Milligan, well known attorney, advanced to the pulpit of the Lookout Mountain [Presbyterian] Church, told the congregation of approximately 100 that the building was on fire and then instructed them to leave the building in orderly fashion. Three minutes after the finish of the opening hymn the church was emptied and the twenty-year-old structure was in flames.”
Friends of Mr. Milligan in the church at that time said later it wasthe shortest speech he had ever been known to make.
Since the early 1890s —
almost as long as it has been a settled community —
“Some set up and ran their own businesses; many worked for other Mountain families,” according to one of their principal chroniclers, Tena Thomas Suggs, herself a native of the Mountain. “And some of the women provided laundry service in their homes to help supplement incomes and to ‘be there’ in the raising of their families.”
Mrs. Suggs and her sister, Sadie Thomas Mickle, are the authors of a report, “The Black Community: An Integral Part of Lookout Mountain’s History and Growth” in preparation for Homecoming ’86.
There is early support for assessing such status to the black families. In 1904, they established their own church on the Mountain, the First Baptist, which is still an active congregation. Its original home was a frame house at the corner of Scenic Highway and Forrest Avenue with the Rev. E. H. Dial as the pastor for its seven members. He occupied the pulpit for 24 years.
He and his wife, Pearl Thomas Dial, were the parents of India Dial Williams, well known as a seamstress for many Mountain families. In 1986, she was 96 years of age, residing in East Chattanooga with her granddaughter, India Pearl Polite Chambers.
“Many of the older residents will recall the Rev. Mr. Dial’s talent in barbecuing meats, prepared with a special delicious sauce of his own making,” Mrs. Suggs writes. “Until his death in 1940, he was counted onto cookthe barbecue forthe Fourth of July and Labor Day gatherings as well as such special events as the Provident Insurance Co. picnics.”
His father, Emanuel Dial, known by almost everyone as “Uncle Manuel,” lived in a small house where the J. H. Davenport driveway is now located. Often seen walking with a knapsack on his back, “Uncle Manuel” worked in the Mountain sandpits with Peter Hudson of Ross Avenue (now South Hermitage) along with others of that era. He died in 1941 at the age of 107.
John T. Speight Sr., and
his wife, Josephine Thomas Speight, moved to the Mountain in the ’90s from
Livingston, Ala. They were among the first of several families who came here
from that community, a circumstance ascribed to the enthusiastic reports of the
Mountain’s opportunities and scenic beauty which the early comers wrote back to
friends and kinspeople still in
Mr. Speight opened the first grocery store on the Mountain soon after his arrival, locating it on the same property as his home on East and West Road. It stood on the present site of the Daniel K. Frierson residence.
“The Speights donated the land, on what was the town barn lot at the north end of Forrest Avenue, for thefirst black school,” Mrs. Suggsfound. She was an early student there. “It was a one-room structure for grades through eight and the first teacher was the Speights’ daughter, Lillie Bell. She taught there until 1924 when she entered the Chattanooga Public School system.” There were usually about 30 students in attendance.
Paul Thomas brought his family from Livingston in the early 1900s, including his wife, Tena Bell Thomas; a son, Adam Bell Thomas; and a daughter, Minerva Thomas Beck. Paul Thomas, who became a deacon in the First Baptist Church here, made his living as a drayman, driving a wagon drawn by two mules. At a time when not many people lived on the Mountain the year around, he often moved families up to their homes in the early summer and back to the city in the fall.
“In the mid-twenties,” Mrs. Suggs recalled, “his mules were electrocuted on what is now Lincoln Street during a severe storm. The power company made a settlement forthe loss and he then purchased a truck and hired a driver. Mr. Thomas died in 1928 at the age of 60.”
His son, Adam B. Thomas, was a young boy when the family moved here. One of his playmates was Hollis Caldwell, later the town’s postmaster. Around 1910, Adam became a railway clerk, a job he held for 47 years. He married Odea Lowery in 1910 and brought her to the Mountain where they lived with his father until he built his own home at 108 West Sunset Road. Mrs. Suggs was their first child. She grew to become a well-known seamstress for Mountain families. She still resides in the family home on West Sunset with a sister, Elise, and a brother, Newsom.
Other former residents of West Sunset remembered by the sisters include these:
Ella Jones, who cooked for the Gaston Raoul family.
Grace Martin, who worked for the J. B. Ragons, and her daughters, Hattie and Carrie Martin. Carrie worked for the Mitchell-Hailey family.
Myrtle
Jones, the last teacher at
Curney Warley, who worked for the George Wests, and his wife, Lucy, andtheirfamily lived where the Cylvester Weeklys now have their home on West Sunset.
Walter and Carrie Chapman.
George and Dottie Wagner and their son, George Jr.
The Harry McElvain family. He was custodian of the Lookout Mountain Presbyterian Church for many years, and was succeeded in the job by a son, William. Another son, David, holds a similar post with the Church of the Good Shepherd, Episcopal, on the Mountain.
Among the other families who came to the Mountain from Livingston were these:
Will and Rosa Moore and Ike and Nannie Moore — the men were brothers and their wives were sisters. Will Moore ran a sand pit, selling the sand to contractors. His daughter, Piccola Moore Clark, cooked for the family of Dr. Leopold Shumacker for years.
Ike Moore is also remembered as a tour guide (as is Warren Parker). Ike and Nannie Moore lived on Forrest Avenue across from the Walter Forbes Sr. home. The Will Moore home was on a hill near the black school.
Among the families living on Ross Avenue (now South Hermitage) were these:
Peter and Martha Hudson.
Magnolia Travis and her mother, Ida Moore.
Janie and Gordon Dial. Janie was for a long time the cook for the J. B. Pounds.
Elsewhere on the Mountain, Charlie and Matilda Childress, with their daughters Ruby and Betty, came here from Murfreesboro, building their home on North Bragg next to the Lookout Mountain School. A daughter, Ruby C. Mangrum, now lives there. The Childresses worked for the Gaston Raouls, and later he was employed at Fairyland Club.
Alongside the Childress home lived Ira and Pearl Cohill. She worked for the Chambliss family for many years and served as superintendent of the First Baptist Church Sunday School.
Lena Shaw Dial also built a house on North Bragg, now occupied by James Coffey. Lena, now deceased, was an aunt of Marie Hudson who lived on Watauga Lane and worked for the Alfred Thatchers until her retirement. Marie now lives in a home care center.
Albert Tittle and his family lived near the old car barn on the present-day Watauga Lane where the Dr. R. M. Landry home was situated. Albert was a carpenter and brick mason who built his own house and the present McElvain house, as well as the first fountain in the center of Scenic Highway near the Common.
There was a “round house” on West Sunset Road that was used to service the narrow gauge engine that ran around Sunset Rock. It was converted into living quarters and the family of Jimmy “Shorty” Naylor lived there. “Shorty” worked for the Incline
Railway as well as for various families on the Mountain. The last persons to live in that building were Mattie Parker and her brother, Ed Schofield.
On what is now West Lincoln Street there were these families:
Scott Ebster, rated as a very good plumber.
Jim Young, who sold vegetables. At various times, his son, Johnny Young, had a paper route and a milk route.
Willie “Diego” Polite, who worked with Ebster as a plumber. He was also an electrician, having served in World War I taking wireless messages. He lived with his sister and her husband, Lottie and Bill Pugh.
John McGraw was a carpenter and lived at 111 West Lincoln. A daughter, Johnnie Mason, lives there now.
Mary Lawrence came from South Carolina and worked forthe Senterfamily. A son, Aaron Lawrence, and his wife, Georgia, live on Strayner Terrace. Mary’s grandson, Reuben Lawrence, works for the Budweiser Company.
Dennis Davis, who resided
at the corner of Watauga Lane and West Lincoln Street, worked for the Donald
Munsons. He and Mrs. Munson appeared on the TV program “Strike It Rich” to help
raise funds forthe present
The Bud McDaniel family lived on a hill northwest of Watauga Lane, opposite the site of the Presbyterian Church. A daughter, Clara Bell, and a son, Tom, worked for the Blackwell Smith Sr. family. Another son, Sam, is a cook at the Hamilton County Jail.
Lucille Brogden of Sprayner Terrace worked for the Charles Puckettes, and her husband, Buryi, was employed by the Dr. Joseph Johnson Sr. family. After Buryi’s death, Lucille worked to put her two daughters through college. Burylna Brogden Eaves is a librarian in the city school system, and Nell Brogden teaches in Washington, D.C.
Harvey Mostella worked for George Hunter on West Brow Road. He lived in a shack he built for himself on the property and had his own water supply. When it rained, he piped the water into barrels where it was stored until used.
Mrs. Suggs remembered that the father of Richard Hodnett, a long-time employee of the town sanitation division, was known as “Daddy Rabbit.” He lived behind the south side of the present Lookout Mountain School and built the rock wall around the first site of the Presbyterian Church next to the school. When that church was razed, the stone was used to build the Negro school on Sprayner Terrace.
It was tom down when the schools were integrated.
On the property where the Common is now, Mrs. Suggs says, there was a long gray L-shaped house which had been used by soldiers during the Civil War. Later, Mrs. Parthenia Henry lived there with her children, Maurice, Pauline and Pinky Moore, and a grandson, Joe Sanders.
One of the best known and most colorful residents was Columbus “Train Man” Chapman. He delighted everyone with his train sounds made from the pieces of water pipes and other scrap paraphernalia strapped to his body. He shuffled up and down the Mountain as a “train,” and would even stop traffic in downtown Chattanooga by blowing a whistle so he might cross the street. He had a tremendous gift for playing the piano and could repeat any tune he heard. Columbus was the son of Lizzie Simmons who was married to “T” Simmons, a tall red Negro most frequently seen in the vicinity of the Incline. He also did yard work for many Mountain families. They lived in the Paul Thomas house at 110 West Sunset Road.
Georgia Goodman has lived on the Mountain for more than 50 years. She has her home on Oak Street and is active in the First Baptist Church. For many years, she worked for the Z. C. Patten family.
Another person still active is Charlie Curry who can be seen driving a truck or walking along Mountain approaches, collecting usable items discarded by others. He lives with his son, Mark, on South Forrest Avenue.
Mrs. Suggs and Mrs. Mickle said of their report that it had been written “after having searched our memories and made many inquiries.” They offered apologies “for any errors or omissions,” and gave special thanks to Beadie Williams Polite, granddaughter of the Rev. Mr. Dial and daughter of India Dial Williams.
Seventy-five years ago,
I he year 1890 was a busy
and productive time for the area of the Mountain now known as Mitchell Drive.
It was here, just east of the
In the months and years to come the Mitchell lots, neighboring and wooded, level for the mountain and at a protected distance from the brow, proved to be perfect play areas for second cousins Mary Mitchell (now Mrs. William Crutchfield), daughter of the J. A. Mitchells, and the late William Jr. and Beulah Mitchell (Mrs. H. K.) Hailey, children of the W. B.
Mitchells. Indeed, all of the Mitchells were soon permanent residents, Mary Crutchfield at the tender age of four months!
Both houses, now 105 and
Across Mitchell Drive from the W. B. Mitchell house, where grandson William K. Hailey and wife Julie now live, were the stables and the caretaker’s house. Behind the main house were storage buildings, one a small stone house known as the “Light House.” Still there today, it was once used to store butane and for cleaning and servicing the butane lights, an everyday chore at that time.
In November, 1912, a proposal from F. P. Sweet, Contractor, Chattanooga, agreed to furnish labor and material for electric lights to the W. B. Mitchell home as follows:
“Thirty-two bracket outlets, nine ceiling lights, three single pole flush switches and meter complete, for the sum of $132.00. All work to be done in a neat mechanical manner conforming in every respect with the rules and regulations of the National Board of Fire Underwriters and the Chattanooga Railway and Light Company’s Inspection Department.”
Both,daughters
of the original owners chose to remain in the
Mrs. Beulah Mitchell Hailey remained in the family home until her death in 1977. The house was sold about six years ago to Alice and Rick Montague.
The new owners have carefully preserved the original charm and appearance of both houses, bowing to the comforts of modem kitchens and bathrooms, and incorporating a new deck at the Montague house, and an upstairs playroom at the Montgomerys’. The Montague house is painted a soft blue, with the beautiful gingerbread trim repaired and sparkling in white. The twelve-foot ceilings in the main rooms in both houses remain as impressive attractions.
Felix Montgomery has restored the natural beauty of most of the hard pine woodwork and trim in the Crutchfield house. The 85-inch windows and the tall shutters are the original ones. The fireplace front and mantel in the master bedroom belonging to one of the five working fireplaces in the house is of cast iron and has been left painted.
Much has changed on Mitchell Drive in the last 96 years. The dust from the roads and the coolness of the densely wooded areas of Mrs. Crutchfield’s childhood memories are gone, but the large brass door knocker, ordered by her father so long ago from New Orleans, is bright and shining and working beautifully.
house that bears a name well known to
Chattanoogans is that of Mrs. Carl Navarre. It is “Benwood,” the lovely old Italian villa on
The house was built shortly after the turn of the century by Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Franklin Thomas. He was the founder of the Thomas Co., the first franchised Coca-Cola bottling company in the country.
It is difficult to reconcile the elegance of the building with the fact that it was intended as just a summer house, but so it was. Mrs. Thomas, said to have had a flair for the flamboyant, didn’t believe in doing things halfway. She once told someone that it was named Benwood because ‘Ben just would build it.”
Surrounded by marble terraces as it looks out over the western valley, Benwood makes a statement the minute you walk in the door. A free-standing circular stairway flanked by a bronze rail rises from a black and white marble floor of elliptic design.
The main part of the house is still as formal as Mrs. Thomas intended. There are decorative friezes in the dining and living rooms and an unusual Italian marble fireplace in the latter.
Like many houses on the Mountain, this one has known several occupants. The Thomases left it to their nephew, George Hunter, whose town house is now the Hunter Museum of Art overlooking the Tennessee River.
While he still owned it, Evelyn and her late husband, Carl, rented it from him briefly when they were first married. They left when it was sold to the Overton Dickinsons in 1950. At that time, the kitchen end of the residence had a distinct summer house flavor, with the refrigerator on the open breezeway at the back.
The George Fontaines bought Benwood in 1957. When it again came on the market in 1962, Evelyn and Carl Navarre were happy to buy it and move in to stay.
Each family, of course, has left its mark, changing and remodeling here and there. The Navarres, though, made the biggest changes. They built a large informal den looking out over the brow at the back of the house, this to accommodate four children at home. They also incorporated the old kitchen and butler’s pantry into a bright picturebook kitchen, the kind that rouses culinary instincts.
Upstairs are four bedrooms and as many baths. A newly renovated sitting room has a fireplace, made possible by the tower, a focal point of the house.
Mrs. Thomas would be pleased to know that Benwood, after nearly a century, is if anything even a finer home than she envisioned when she planned her little summer house on the Mountain.
Fhe John Guerry home at 1000 West Brow Rd., known long ago as “Moonshine,” stands on a firm historical foundation. Built in 1900 as a summer home by John’s great uncle, the late Zeboim Charles Patten, Jr., the house has always been famous for its hospitality in sharing with others the beautiful view of the western valley and, to the north, the curves of the glistening Tennessee River.
Mr. and Mrs. Patten spent the winter at their home on Oak Street in Chattanooga, but the spring, summer and early fall months always found them in residence at “Moonshine.” In 1910, additional living space was added to the back of the house, giving a total of some 6,000 square feet on the two floors and basement. The porch, veranda, swimming pool, tennis court and garden were also completed at this time.
An article in The Chattanooga Times, dated October 8, 1911, describes the house as “weather-boarded and stained a dark brown with trimmings of white. The roof is low and projecting, its wide eaves being supported by brackets in pergola effect. Indeed, the pergola is a prevailing feature of the residence, adding to the chicness of the whole by a pergola entrance way, a porch at one end, arbors of same style on the lawn and in various other developments.”
This same article describes a cave parlor, a sheltered retreat under a great overhanging rock, located about a quarter of a mile by a winding path down the bluff. It was decorated with hanging baskets of ferns and periwinkle, a natural aquarium of gold fish.
“Fitted with wicker tables, settees and chairs, the cave parlor is an extremely interesting place and lends well to small parties or teas,” the account continued.
“Moonshine” was also
featured in the late Miss Zella Armstrong’s publication, The Lookout, dated
Mr. and Mrs. Patten had
one daughter, the late Miss Dorothy Patten, whose adult life was centered around the theatre in
The Guerrys have made a few structural changes including closing French doors in the living
room to gain more wall space and replacing planting boxes with shelves under all of the dining room windows. The pergola entrance from the street remains, and the amazingly intricate stone arch at the front door is original with the house. The seven fireplaces include two of princely proportions in the living room and dining room. Many of the early 20th Century lighting fixtures are still in place.
The house today, easily recognized from the old brow side pictures, is no longer complete with swimming pool, elaborate gardens and tennis court, but it continues in its tradition of hospitality. Its view, its warmth and its large dining room are shared generously, now both winter and summer, with the Guerrys’ friends and church groups, and with visitors from their centers of interest including the University of the South, Baylor School, United Way, the Rotary Club and business associates.
11 is still a country house on a hill — the place that Lane and Jane Verlenden call home. Gradually, though, it has been invaded by urban charm and sophistication. Once this land was a true farm and before that it was part of a vast holding.
Sometime after the Civil War, Alexander Hunt owned all the land from Scenic Highway and Fleetwood to what is now the Town Common. In 1890 he sold four acres to Charles and Mary Massey Barrows who built a house where the Verlendensnow live. The four Barrows children grew up there.
In 1924 that house was torn down and the present house, or a part of it at least, was built. For the Barrows it was truly a farm with horses, cows, pigs and chickens as well as a large garden to supply the family table. Irvin Barrows recalls that all the property across the road to Fleetwood was his father’s pasture land.
In the early ’30s the house was sold to the legendary Miss Tommie Duffy, former headmistress of
G.P.S., who planned to use it as a retirement home. In the meantime she rented it to John and Ethel Clark and that marked the beginning of the changes which were to become a way-of-life for the old house. What had been two rooms became a large living room, and it was John who built the little house out back, then a chicken coop; later in early Verlenden days it became a cottage for various sets of newlyweds, including Mary and Lew Oehmig.
After Miss Duffy’s death the house was sold to Tallulah and Mac McGee who contributed their ideas to the remodeling and were responsible for terracing the land.
In 1948 the present owners, then the parents of three small children and "lured by a country house with five bedrooms, three baths and lots of play space,” bought the place. The Verlendens’ love affair with the house has been an ongoing project.
It began on the do-it-yourself level with Lane and a crowbar and the making of a pine-paneled kitchen.
Two professional builders and many years later, the old farm house is a beautiful home with an extra
fireplace in the new family room, a screened porch for living and a floor plan that bears little relationship to the original.
The four acres are still a challenge to Lane and Jane who have gradually tamed it with rock-walled gardens flanked by stately old trees and shrubs. One thing Mr. Barrows would recognize, the vegetable garden. It is one of Lane’s retirement projects and, as in the early days, fills the family larder.
their distinguished parents lived and grew. John A. Chambliss acquired the house in 1911, a year after his eldest child was born. It had been built before the turn of the century by Samuel Bartow Strang.
Life on the mountain 75 years ago was simple and somewhat rural. The Chamblisses had horses, a cow or two and chickens. There was a hay loft which later burned, afinebarn forthe animals and a chicken coop. Later a garage came into being and tennis courts were put in below the house.
That garage is probably unique in mountajn history. The present property line between the Burbanks and the Bobby Caldwells goes right through it, the back half being the Caldwells’ garage while the main part of the building now includes a delightful guest house created by the Burbanks. This was originally the servants’ quarters.
In the early days of the Chambliss era there was no central heat or electricity. Fireplaces in each room provided heat and kerosene lamps glowed by night.
In 1924 the house was modernized with central heat and the magic of Mr. Edison’s invention.
After one of the children was severely burned, all the fireplaces in the bedrooms were closed. Today there are only three in the house. Members of the family remember another great remodelling that took place circa 1921. Their father, a man who usually did what he set out to do, decided the time had come to rearrange the house in various ways to accommodate his growing family. That was the summer when all of the children slept on the front porch.
Mr. and Mrs. Chambliss also owned a farm below the mountain where they rode horseback and became interested in wild flowers. Eventually they created the famous Reflection Riding.
After the death of Mrs. Chambliss, the house was put up for sale. Waiting in the wings were Camilla and Terry Burbank who have always been “into” old houses. Their do-it-yourself talents were in need of an assignment and here it was! Wall paper was stripped, as many as eight layers in some cases. An antique mantle was added in the library, the carport turned into a den for the children. Paint brushes flew. When the deadline on vacating their former house arrived, the Burbanks called in their friends. A sort of “house raising” took place which, of course, ended in a party. Today the gracious old house is light and airy. It includes a living room, dining room, den, library and a bright newly-finished sunroom where the old porch used to be. There is a bedroom and bath downstairs and four bedrooms and three baths up.
And so, in the best Lookout Mountain tradition, another old house takes a new lease on life. As the Burbanks and their four children enjoy their new-old home, it no doubt is also pleased with its new role.
One of the earlier
year-round residences on
Mr. Raoul acquired the property in 1906. Two years later he built a cabin on it and took his bride, Marion, there. By 1913 there were two children in the family and the big house, designed by a Boston architect named Jackson, began to take shape. In ideas and innovations it was way ahead of its time. Probably one of the few houses on the Mountain that had central heating at that time, it also had a built-in sprinkler system. The original plan called for a central vacuum system which was never installed.
The roof was tile brought from Dayton, Ohio, and that along with all the other material, was hauled up the mountain in horse-drawn wagons. By 1923 there were four children and the already roomy house became more so. A three-car garage was added and guest quarters built above it. The ultimate result included seven bedrooms and nine fireplaces.
The spacious old mansion has an ambience of comfort and graciousness. A large entry hall leads to the living room, library and formal dining room. Unique is the great porch built on railroad trestles and extending far out over the brow. Mr. Raoul really wanted to enjoy the view!
In later years a stoker was added to the heating system and the imaginative owner designed two little cars inspired by the Incline which balanced each other and carried the clinkers off the bluff.
In the Twenties the ravine beside the house was terraced and Marion Raoul, a serious horticulturist, began to develop the beautiful gardens which can still be seen today.
When the elder Raouls elected to leave the big house, their son William and his wife Kit moved in with their two children. Once again some remodeling was in order. They were in the process of this when the great ice storm of 1960 struck.
After enjoying the family home for 25 years Kit and William decided to build themselves a new one on the adjoining property. They sold the old house to Dr. Walter King in 1985 and moved just before Christmas into the not-quite-finished new one.
The Kings love the expansive old house and have set about putting their own stamp on it. As usual one of the priorities was a new kitchen, this time incorporating all the old rooms in the back of the house. New heating and air conditioning systems have been installed and a lot of redecorating done, including the refinishing of old heart pine floors upstairs.
The result is an ideal house for a busy doctor with a family of five children.
It was the Lookout Club. It was the Little Club. According to Miss Zella Armstrong's “Lookout” newspaper of 1914, it was the center of Lookout Mountain social life at that time. Today it is the home of Henrietta and Durwood Sies at 109 Highland Avenue.
In 1914 tennis, dancing and “all the sports of a summer resort” were found at the club. Some of the mountain seniors remember that one of the sports of summer, then as now, was being where the boys were. In those days that was on the tennis courts of The Lookout Club. They were the finest courts in town and city tournaments were held there. Those old clay courts still exist under the Sies’ west garden.
Luncheon and dinner were served daily at the club followed by dancing in the evening. At one stage in the early days on Wednesday and Saturday evenings, early dances were held for the younger set, the junior high crowd. As the clock struck ten, though, they were banished to make way for the grown-ups.
The club later became more of a young people’s hang-out. The “when” of this is not easily established but it is reasonably speculated that it was probably at the time Fairyland Club was opened.
Finally, the club days over, the building was used for various private kindergartens.
In 1951, when Henrietta and Durwood became engaged and were looking around for a house, they learned that The Little Club was for sale. It had belonged to George Hunter who had given itto the Town of Lookout Mountain.
The Sies accepted the challenge of turning the cavernous old building into a home and succeeded impressively. The great ballroom was bisected with a wide entrance hall and a very livable house arranged around it. There are four bedrooms and three baths although only ten feet have been added to the original structure. The unusually wide veranda across the front of the house was reduced by four feet but is still more than ample. The old circular stone terrace in front of the house, originally used for dances, now serves as a sun terrace and sometimes a party place.
The Sies’ four daughters all grew up enjoying the big old house and its spacious grounds. Today grandchildren belonging to the Sies family as well as those of their neighbors happily use the old merry-go-round and swings in the front yard with an enthusiasm worthy of “The Lookout Club.”
Quotable quotes from Mountain conversations: An appreciative but diffident Mountaineer to the donor of a heavy sweater for cold weather:
“It’s so warm I almost wore it out a-takin’ it off.”
One man’s memory of a childhood playmate’s scholastic attainment:
“He learned the second grade reader by heart and wouldn’t move up.”
^Outstanding among the numerous old sandstone houses on Lookout Mountain is that of Sara and Jim Glascock on South Bragg Street. The imposing mansion is an unusually fine example of the stonework that was popular around the turn of the century. Almost mosaic in feel, it reflects the quality of an artisan. The lintel over the double front doors is a solid slab of stone eight feet wide. How it got up there is hard to imagine! While the date is not exactly known, it is recorded that the house was standing in 1906. It is thought to be approaching 100 years old.
Frank Caldwell, a
prominent
The land was rich in resources. Not only did it provide the stone for the house, but also included a famous spring known as “Kalmia,” the botanical name for mountain laurel. The spring provided water for the entire neighborhood, with each householder paying $50 for a lifetime easement giving him access to the water source. The spring still runs but the neighbors no longer need it and that is just as well since the Glascocks say it is probably not potable.
The house was later bought by the senior E. White Pattons. They had lived there only about five years when Dr. Patton died and Mrs. Patton sold it to the Henry Bryans. That was in 1935 and one of the Bryan children, Sara, now Mrs. Glascock, is mistress of her girlhood home.
Two porches shown in early pictures are gone. The interior has been somewhat remodelled. A swimming pool was added in the ’50s to be enjoyed by the Bryan children and grandchildren. The old cistern house is now a charming gazebo for outdoor entertaining.
When Sara and Jim and ten of their twelve children took over in 1976, there was not quite enough room. A cottage, since torn down, took up the slack.
Today the spacious old house includes four bedrooms and three baths upstairs, and two bedrooms with two baths on a lower level. Only two of the young Glascocks are now at home but the house still vibrates with acitivity. Except for a change in the driveway, the facade is easily recognizable from early pictures, and probably will be for generations to come.
olph and Tida Landry live in a house
near Point Park on
The residence on a fifty-foot lot was too small for Mr. Pound, his four children by a previous marriage,
and his new wife. That was quickly remedied by the purchase of an adjoining fifty feet of property from N.
H. Grady. The size of the house was doubled and a two-car garage added. Quite probably that was when it became “Stonedge.” Pound remembered it as a “real paradise.” Nevertheless, he sold it to George McGee in 1926 when he built the mansion that stood on the site of the present Stonedge condominiums.
Mrs. McGee was quite an individualist and for many years after her husband’s death, the home was known as “Miss Addie’s House.” It is said that the
The five McGee children grew up at Stonedge, and after Miss Addie’s death, the house remained in the family as rental property for several years. Then one family of renters decided to make it permanent.
Rolph and Tida Landry made the purchase in 1979 and set out in the Mountain manner to combine contemporary conveniences with the charm of the old. The kitchen was completely done over, taking in the pantry in the process. A door was opened into the den where a new pine floor was laid. A fireplace was also added to this room which has a spectacular view of Moccasin Bend and the city beyond. The Landrys also rebuilt and enlarged the terrace for further enjoyment of the view. Stonedge today has four bedrooms and three and a half baths and the rambling old house enjoys many other contemporary features as well.
Each day in the summer, hundreds of tourists march by the front gate, but the Landrys don’t mind. They’re enjoying the view.
combination of squared Crab-Orchard stone and stucco and a beautiful terra-cotta tile roof enclose and give an instant impression of massive permanence to the 7,183 square feet of space occupied by the Fred Obear family at 619 West Brow Road. The house, complete with 2.4 acres of land, is owned by the University of Chattanooga Foundation, Inc., and is leased annually for a nominal sum to the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. The property was bequeathed to the University of Chattanooga Board of Trustees in 1965 by the late Burkett Miller.
In September, 1907, the property, more extensive than it is now, was purchased by Webster T. James and wife, Susie, from the Lookout Land Company for $3,000. The final payment on the land was made in October, 1909, and the house was built in 1910.
In March, 1924, Mrs. James sold the property for $22,500 to G. M. Ellis and his wife, Mary Loop Ellis, who, in turn, sold for the same amount and within the same month to Chester Watkins. Mr. Watkins later conveyed a portion of the property to W. B. Miller and his wife, Mary L. Miller.
During Mr. Watkins’ ownership, from 1924 to 1943, the house was turned into five apartments, one on either side of the large entrance hall, two on the second floor, and one on the third floor. The apartments remained a number of years during G. W. Bagwell’s ownership from 1943 to the mid-’60s. After Mr. Bagwell’s death, the house was sold to the American National Bank.
During the apartment era the house was home to a number of local residents, including for a number of years Alice Davenport, now Mrs. Herbert Anderson, and her parents, the late Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Davenport; newlyweds Sarah Houston and Hugh Baker, Babs Hall and Lynn Deakins, and Martha Newton and Hobby Law. The late Miss Genevieve Montague enjoyed the third-floor apartment. Grant Law’s very first home was in his parent’s apartment in this house, and, on the front porch, a house guest and former college friend of Sarah Baker’s, Kitty Howze of
Since 1965, the house has been home for a succession of university officials and their families — the LeRoy Martins, the Russell E. Whites, the James E. Drinnons and now Chancellor and Mrs. Obear.
During the past few years much effort and time have been spent in restoring this house to its original beauty. The quarter-sawed oak woodwork, paneling and trim are beautifully preserved; the entrance hall and living and dining rooms have resumed their original functions, and Trisha and Fred Obear are proceeding with their plan to rework one bedroom a year on the second floor. The entire house lends itself splendidly to the constant hospitality extended by the Obears, both personally and on behalf of the university.
A large, comfortable deck added overthe garage area and the original porch on the front and side of the house make it possible for the occupants to enjoy the constant beautification of the surrounding acreage.
By Lon A. Warner
Ah, Sweet Memories
Through the West I’ve
roamed at leisure Viewed the
Heard the thund’rings of Niag’ra And the echoes from below,
But no page in Nature’s Album E’er can be so grand to me As the view from dear old Lookout Down in Sunny Tennessee
Mutely stands — sublime — majestic— Head erect, high in the air—
Sentinel so grandly valiant Watching o’er the valley there,
While at night in restful slumber Ninety thousands souls repose,
Safe above the circling river,
Where the mighty water flows.
See! Where once the noise of battle Rent the cloud-protected field,
And with clash of sword and sabre,
Men were crushed and forced to yield, Now in peaceful transformation Life is offered those who live—
Silent tribute from the carnage Would these heights to mortals give!
Master, thou, of earth and heaven,
None more proud deserves to be! Noble crest that reaches skyward Drawing all men unto thee!
Poets bring their choicest Laurels, Potentates enraptured be,
As they stand on dear old Lookout,
Down in Sunny
There was a short notice
of the scheduled event in The Chattanooga Times of
“There will be services at the Natural Bridge Pavilion today under the auspices of the Presbyterian Church. Dr. J. E. Triplett, who is conducting revival services, will preach in the morning. Dr. J. W. Bachman of the First Presbyterian Church of this city, will preach at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, after which there will be a meeting forthe purpose of organizing a Presbyterian Church on the Mountain.”
It all came off as planned
and the dream of a pioneer resident of the Mountain — Frank Caldwell, the
father of Hollis Caldwell, later the town’s postmaster—was on its way to
reality. The elder
Twenty-seven charter members joined in the organizational meeting under the guidance of Dr. T. H. McCallie, chairman of the Home Mission Committee for the Knoxville Presbytery. A history of the congregation, written forthe church’s observance of its 60th anniversary by Rowena K. Frierson, lists them as follows:
Dr. L. Y. Green, a physician who had administered to the soldiers during the War Between the States and to the general population during the 1878 yellow fever epidemic.
Mrs. Carrie M. Green, his wife.
Frank H.
Caldwell, later to become mayor of
Mrs. M. Ella Caldwell, his wife.
Filmore Gibson, who married Dr. Green’s daughter.
Mrs. Carrie Gibson, his wife.
Lewis P. Thatcher, father of Mrs. James Glascock.
Mrs. Edna C. Thatcher, his wife.
John A. Hooke, son of Judge Robert A. Hooke, a founder of First Presbyterian Church.
Mrs. Anna G. Hooke, his wife.
Misses Mary P. Hooke, Josephine Hooke and Alice Lillian Hooke, also children of Judge Hooke.
Frank Whiteside.
Mrs. Lela Whiteside, his wife.
Miss Agnes Putnam, a school teacher.
Morris Temple, who lived to become the oldest resident charter member.
Robert Morrison, Lookout Mountain’s first mayor.
Putnam Morrison, his son.
Dr. A. A. Nefe, the family doctor who delivered many of the babies born on the Mountain during that period.
Mrs. Ella Nefe, his wife.
W. C. Griffith, a contractor.
Mrs. L. N. Griffith, his wife.
Miss Callie Mayberry.
Mrs. Lizzie Robinson.
Mrs. Elizabeth Bush.
Miss Agnes Hamilton.
The Natural Bridge, site of the organizational meeting for the church as well as of subsequent planning sessions, had a history of its own, of course. In its immediate vicinity were several springs around which people in large numbers camped during the yellow fever outbreak in the late ’70s. Later, the Natural Bridge Hotel was built there, soon becoming a popular watering place for visitors.
The hotel was acquired in the mid-’80s by the Southern Spiritualists Association. There the organization held lectures and seances for which an octagonal pavilion, 70 feet in diameter, was constructed.
The Spiritualists sold their holdings in 1890 to the Keeley Institute, described in the 1892 Chattanooga City Directory as a source for the “genuine Keeley Double Chloride of Gold Cure for Liquor, Opium, Cocaine, Cigarettes, Insomnia and Nerve Exhaustion.” The hotel building burned on Oct. 1, 1893, only a few days after the Institute had moved its headquarters to Knoxville.
But the Natural Bridge Pavilion had already served the Presbyterians again as an important meeting spot. They met there on Nov. 20, 1892, to select a building committee to considerthe erection of a permanent home for the new congregation. The committee was strictly reminded that, “in the prosecution of its work, (it) should at all times be restricted to the amount of money at its command for the purpose, and under no circumstances, incur any indebtedness, but stop the work until the necessary additional money be raised and then continue until, in this way, the Church has been built and when completed would be paid for fully.”
The Lookout Land Company’s offer of a lot at Bragg Avenue and Whiteside Street was accepted and plans were made for a church constructed of mountain sandstone. It was to be quarried nearby at a cost of “$2.95 per perch.” The site was on the east side of Bragg on what later became the school’s upper playground.
By 1894 the first section of the church was completed and on Oct. 14 — almost exactly two years after the organization meeting — services were held in the small room. Construction was interrupted because of the lack of funds and the building as planned was not completed until 1898, but there was no debt outstanding.
One church history notes that “these early years were hard ones” for the congregation. “Transportation and roads were not such that people could travel conveniently back and forth to Chattanooga and there were scarcely any members of the Community who lived on the Mountain during the winter months. The weather was so difficult that those who dared to stay up the year around, found it hard to attend church services regularly, and the average attendance in winter vyas very small.”
In April 1893, when the church sent its first representatives to the Presbytery, the report showed four elders, three deacons, 29 members, and total funds of $492.53.
As the only church on the Mountain for white families during this era, the Presbyterians for years offered a sanctuary for residents of the Mountain from all denominations.
“The first Sunrise Prayer Service in the South was held at our Church on Thanksgiving morning 1916,” Mrs. Frierson reported in her history. “Their prayers must have been heard for 28 men from the Church went to World War I and not one was killed or injured.”
The first small church was destroyed by fire on Jan. 22, 1928, and plans for a replacement included an exchange of the property for a plot of land across Bragg Avenue and owned by the city. The congregation used its new Church auditorium in services on the morning of March 24, 1929.
Successive programs of
expansion to meet the demands of the growing congregation have added the
chapel, the tower with its carillonic bells (a gift in memory of Mrs. Susan
Moore Sizer by her children, Mrs. John Chambliss, Mrs. Albert Taber and
A list of the pastors who have served the Church follows: Rev. Paul F. Brown, 1892-1896; Rev. B. A. Pendleton, 1897-1898; Rev. Wallace Clift, 1899-1901; Rev. George Guide, 1902-1904; J. B. Milligan (layman) 1902-1904; Rev. T. B. Hill, 1905-1906; Rev. Louis Collins, 1906-1908; Dr. J. H. Nall, 1909-1912; Dr. Charles Hyde, 1912-1917; Rev. Battle McLester, 1917-1926; Dr. Harris Gregg, 1926-1928; Dr. E. S. Campbell, 1929-1942; Rev. Taylor Clark, 1943-1945; Dr. James Sprunt, 1945-1951; Dr. Sam Wiley, 1951 -1964; Dr. George Long, 1964-1986; Rev. Sanders Lane Willson, 1986-.
On the Safe Side
Safety first is a good motto to live by, inside a church or out.
In the earlier days at the Church of the Good Shepherd, Episcopal, real candles were used to light the Christmas tree which was in the front by the door. It was the custom to alert the fire department of the time of any service during which the candles were to be lit. And, just to be safe, each parishioner sitting on the nearest pew was furnished with a jug of water.
It worked. No fires broke out.
^Eatly in their residency on Lookout Mountain, the Baptists among the members of the black community decided they needed a church home close to where they lived.
In 1904, they organized the First Baptist Church, among the very first on the Mountain, acquiring a small one-room house at the corner of Scenic Highway and Forrest Avenue as a meeting place. Will Moore, Ike Moore, Adam Thomas, Paul Thomas, Pearl Cohill and members of their families were among the seven charter organizers, and the Rev. E.
H. Dial the first pastor. He held the position for 24 years.
Never very large in numbers but always active in denominational matters, the congregation determined a few years later that it would be better served in a larger structure. It built a frame church on the same site as that now occupied by the present building on Bragg Avenue.
That was adequate until the mid-’50s when larger needs once more became apparent. It was during the pastorate of the Rev. A. J. Lewis that members started planning a brick structure sufficient for the foreseeable future.
Remarkable support was evidenced not only by the congregation, but also by white friends, among them Mrs. Donald Munson. Dennis Davis, a deacon in the church, was in her employ. In her search for ways to raise funds, she hit upon the idea of an appearance on the television program Strike It Rich, and she accompanied Davis and the Rev. Mr. Lewis to New York in June 1955 to tell the church’s story. The response was both immediate and impressive, and about $2,400 poured in from donors all over the country.
The members had raised a like
amount themselves and construction was begun on the present building. By the
end of the Rev. Mr. Lewis’ tenure in 1962, the congregation was in a facility
valued at $40,000 with no outstanding debt.
A list of pastors who have
served the First Baptist congregation is as follows: E. H. Dial, 1904-1928; S.
R. Holston, 1928-29; E. P. Black, 1929-1933; L. R. Radden, 1933-1936; O. W.
Smith, 1936-1937; J. F. Fleminster, 1937-39; I. A. Brydie, 1940-48; S. S.
Cousin, 1948-1952; A. J. Lewis, 1953-1962; A. P. Crutcher, 1962-1963; Abraham
Good, 1965-1967; W. D. Clark, 1967-1972; J. W. Strickland, 1973-1978, and Henry
Williams, 1979-.
As I remember it,” the Rev. Oliver Hart, rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Chattanooga, wrote a bit later, “it was in the winter of 1927-28 that I took up with the vestry of St. Paul’s, the matter of establishing a chapel on Lookout Mountain.”
That could well have been the formal initiation of plans for a church to serve Anglican communicants on the Mountain, but the idea had long since taken shape in the minds of individual members already living here, either as summer or year-around residents of the community.
At any rate, it was not much later that Dr. Hart — later Bishop — came to the Mountain to see what was available. He rode around with Police Chief William I. Stoner. “After our tour,” he wrote, “I told him the lot I’d like to have, and found that he owned it.”
Chief Stoner donated the
property — on the western side of
The first Communion was
celebrated on the afternoon of
Within five years, the
need for expansion became evident. The chapel was moved bodily across
In its early years, the chapel was served by priests-in-charge who were members of the staff of St. Paul’s. Among them were the Rev. Lyle Kil-vington, the Rev. James R. Helms, the Rev. Potter F. Florence, the Rev. William S. Lea who was the first to have a residence on the Mountain. In 1939, the Rev. James Stirling, who had been in charge of the Chapel for two years, was made Vicar of the Chapel of the Good Shepherd, the name that had been chosen for the growing body. By that time, 85 families comprised the membership.
In 1940, the property to the south of the Chapel was purchased and the McKinney house on it became a rectory. Its first resident was the Rev. Edward Ferguson who became Vicar in March 1942.
His successor, named in December that year, was the Rev. Stephen Walke. Under his leadership in 1946, just 18 years after its founding, the Chapel was given independent status as the Church of the Good Shepherd with 140 active communicants. The Rev. Mr. Walke was installed as its first rector.
A new rector, the Rev. George H. Murphy, was called in 1947, and plans for a new parish house were realized. The structure was dedicated on Nov. 30, 1949, by Bishop Dandridge who described it “an outward symbol of the strength of the parish,” which by then had 400 communicants. An integral feature of the building was a reception area, the Hart Room, honoring the priest who had established the Mountain chapel in 1928.
In 1953 the Rev. William Shearer came as a supply rector, and was called as permanent rector. Ill health limited his service to two years.
The Rev. Harold Barrett became the church’s fourth rector in 1955. Under his leadership over a span of 16 years, the parish experienced marked expansion. In the late ’50s, plans were laid for the construction of a new church, based on a poll of the membership of the parish. The beautiful new structure was dedicated on May 13, 1962, by the Rt. Rev. John VanderHorst, Bishop of Tennessee.
It included the present church, where the rectory had stood, an assembly room beneath, and additional Sunday School rooms. The nave of the former church was converted into offices and a library, but the sanctuary was retained as a chapel, its altar remaining in its original position.
At Mr. Barrett’s request, the Rev. Joe Nichols — a former executive with Provident Life and Accident Insurance Co., who had been ordained in 1960 — was returned to the Mountain parish as an assistant. Another business leader, Hiram Chamberlain, was ordained in 1964 to the perpetual diaconate of the Episcopal Church and has served in that capacity in the Mountain and other parishes.
The Rev. Robert E. Wood came to Good Shepherd in July 1971 as priest-in-training under Mr. Barrett, and when Mr. Barrett left a few months later, he was named priest-in-charge. He was called to be rector in 1972 and served until 1983. Under his direction, a number of new programs and services were instituted, and a significant remodeling and expansion program undertaken. Now completed, it added an assembly area and a number of service rooms to the building.
The Rev. John D. Talbird Jr. was called to succeed him.
Poor Santa
There used to be a Santa Claus According to our maws and paws,
But now that the Depression’s on Ol’ Santa Claus is dead and gone.
—David Chambliss
(Item taken from the Dec. 20, 1932 issue of the Mountain Gossip, published by the 7th and 8th Grades of the Lookout Mountain School.)
Perhaps no other place of worship
around can claim a less likely abode than that in which it began its
functioning. An officiating priest said later it had been “a place where men
could eat, drink and gamble if the spirit moved them.”
But in 1947 a new spirit
took over and the onetime Stardust Club on
No flip of the coin or toss of the dice, of course, brought about the transformation. It was the result of constant effort and enduring faith of parishioners and priests who recognized the need for a center of work and worship.
A generation earlier, only two Roman Catholics were counted among Mountain residents, Mrs. Carl White and Mrs. A. C. Whiteside. In the ’20s and ’30s, the number grew with the addition of the Cahills, the Neil Crowleys, the Burkharts, the John Crimmins and other families, along with the spouses their children brought into the community.
An early step was the formation of a women’s Circle on the Mountain, relieving members of the necessity to attend the meetings at Sts. Peter and Paul downtown. It was designated St. Christopher’s Circle; minutes show that those present for the first session, held in the Crimmins parlor, included Mes-dames Crimmins, H. Brown, S. Brown, Bryan, Bader, Adams, Seaton, Fontaine, Bagby, Graham, Cayce, Tristchler, Willingham, Logan, Whiteside, Davenport and ‘‘the lady who lives in back of the Whitesides.” The circle evolved into the Altar Society, which has performed continuously since with a primary function of caring for the altars. Other activities included support of the Ladies of Charity of Chattanooga, and volunteer help for the Children’s Humane Society, Orange Grove School and Moccasin Bend Hospital.
One early entry in the minutes was a motion to allow members who lived in the Tennessee portion of the mountain to entertain and provide refreshments.
With the end of World War II, the Chapel at Fort Oglethorpe in Georgia became the property of the Redemptionist Order which permitted its resident priest there to bring Mass and Holy Communion to Catholic families on the Mountain as a part of the responsibilities of the Fort Oglethorpe Parish.
Mrs. Katye Seaton helped arrange for the use of the Gingerbread House, a snack shop operated in connection with the Rock City and Tom Thumb Golf tourist attractions, as a place to observe the rites. Some attendants, still members of Sts. Peter and Paul, termed it their “black market church.”
Worshippers soon outgrew the space available at the Gingerbread House and Mass was moved to the auditorium of the Lookout Fairyland School. Father John P. Murphy, who insisted from the beginning that “the P doesn’t stand for Pierpont,” was the first officiant.
It was Father Murphy’s determination that led to the acquisition of the Stardust Club building, for a reported price of $22,500, and the first Mass in the night spot-turned-church was said by him in its vestibule.
Church records give credit to a number of parishioners for transforming the building into a suitable place of worship. Among those mentioned were Jim Haley, Jim Burkhart, Hugh Brown, Bitsy Whiteside, Bill Agnew, Myron Schultes and Bill Bunn.
Minutes of the first Altar Society meeting in October 1947 paid tribute to Mrs. Tom Moore Sr. for the donation of the hangings behind the altar, Mrs. James Hedges for the gift of gold velvet, and Mary Boehm and Peg Lenihan for contributing “other necessities.” Major donors were listed as the George Fillauers for their overall generosity; Mert Hedges for the marble altars; the Seatons for the pews; the Diefenbachs for the Stations of the Cross; the Crimmins for the Shrine Altar; the Burkharts for the carpeting; and the Bagbys for the Crucifix. Mrs. Alma Burkhart was responsible for erection of the statue of Our Blessed Lady in front. Later on, records show, Franklin Haney provided air conditioning equipment for the church.
In the late ’70s plans were started for a new church to be built on a site adjacent to the first building. The handsome edifice was dedicated Sunday, Nov. 18, 1984.
Priests who have served the parish, in addition to Father John Murphy who came to be known as “old Father Murphy,” include the following:
Fathers Gilbert McCormick, John Jerlinski, Ray Schantz, Lawrence Murphy [“young Father Murphy”], Robert McCrief, William O’Meara, Joseph Driscoll, Lawrence Haber, Thomas Kelly, Bernard Kalb, Walter Kuhn, Jack Cavanaugh [for whom Cavanaugh Hall is named], and Gerald Whelan, affectionately known far and wide as “the joyful priest.”
A strong contingent of
Baptists on
J. B. Tallant,the City Missionary in
Twenty-two members placed their names on the rolls at the original meeting. By agreement, the effective deadline for charter membership was set as Nov. 1, 1945. By that time, 40 more members had added their names to the roll — eight times the number lost, for good reasons, during that period.
The list of charter members follows: Mr. and Mrs. W. R. Bell, Mr. and Mrs. J. W. Bishop, J. Walter Bishop, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas L. Clary, Mr. and Mrs. Corbin Chapman, Mr. and Mrs. W. H. Cox, Mr. and Mrs. D. A. Felker, Miss Doris Gilreath, Mrs. Herman Gray, Mr. and Mrs. John Groninger, Jane Ann Groninger, Mrs. L. D. Gross, Miss Betty Ruth Gross, Miss Margaret Gross, Miss Mary Louise Gross, Mrs. M. L. Jarrell, Mr. and Mrs. H. F. Kirkpatrick, Marinelle Kirkpatrick, J. C. Kirkpatrick, William H. Kirkpatrick, Mr. and Mrs. C. D. Little, Mr. and Mrs. J. H. McBrien, Mrs. Howard McCall, Mr. and Mrs. F. T. L. Nelson, Mr. and Mrs. Frank N. Perkins, Miss Beth Perkins, Jack Perkins, Frank Perkins Jr., Mr. and Mrs. J. B. Pound, Mr. and Mrs. R. E. Rabun, Robert Rabun, Mr. and Mrs. Harold Smartt, Mr. and Mrs. George D. Stanley, Robert M. Stanley, Mrs. J. M. Terry, Mr. and Mrs. Guy W. Tribble, Guy S. Tribble, Mrs. C. W. Wheland, Mrs. A. C. Willingham Sr., Calder Willingham, W. Jay Willingham.
Mrs. George E. McGee Sr. donated part of a lot for use of the church, in memory of her son, Robert, who was killed in World War II. A plaque in his memory stands in front of the church, located on the extreme right side of the building, near the adjoining street.
Frank Stoops contributed a portion of the adjoining lot, and the congregation purchased the remainder of the lot from him to provide an adequate building site.
Work on the structure began in May 1946, and members moved into the first floor section on Dec. 22 of that year, when the dedication service was held.
In the spring of 1950,
plans were made to complete the building, to be a duplicate of the Roger
Williams Church in
The corner stone was laid on July 8, 1950, with the Rev. John Inzer conducting the service, just five years after the organization of the church.
At the morning service on Dec. 27, 1959, the mortgage on the building was symbolically destroyed by the pastor, Dr. Jack Kennedy.
The first wedding in the
new building, that of Adeline Andrews to William
Hoagland, was held on
Mrs. Hoagland is a granddaughter of the J. B. Pounds, whose early interest in the church played a major role in its organization.
The congregation has remained an active force within the ranks of the denomination. A Certificate of Merit was presented to the church by the Hamilton County Baptist Association in recognition for aid furnished by the church to establish the Third Street Baptist Mission in Hamilton, Ohio, during 1960 and 1961.
In January 1962, a Certificate of Achievement from the Stewardship Department of the Tennessee Baptist Convention was awarded the church for having given a high percentage of total receipts to the Cooperative Program toward World Missions.
The congregation has most recently received a certificate of recognition for its per capita giving to Home Missions in 1983.
The church has ordained four ministers, Jack McCullough in 1959, Joseph C. Jensen in 1961, Bill Blanchard in 1976, and Sam Henderson in 1977.
Pastors serving the church
are listed as follows: J. B. Tallant, 1945; Maj. Gen. Franklin A. Tobey,
1946-1947; Dr. Rupert Naney, 1947-1949; M. Dale Larew, 1950-1954; Norman W.
Merrell, 1955-1957; Dr. Jack Kennedy, 1957-1961; Dr. William Robert McLin,
1962-1968; Dr. Jack H. McEwen, 1968-1972; Dr. Maurice Blanchard, 1973-1980; Dr.
C. Stephen Byrum, 1981-1983; James E. Harris, interim, 1983-1985; H. Brad
Mitchell, 1985-.
Although it was the last
worship center of a major denomination to be organized in the community, the
The Pine Grove Methodist Church, established in 1896, was a forerunner of the present body. It was of the Methodist Episcopal branch of the denomination and stood on a site at the present day intersection of Lula Lake Road and Bagby Lane. It disbanded in the ’30s, about the time Methodists achieved unification of their northern and southern branches.
At onetime, the church building was used also as the community school. In the early '30s, the congregation became heatedly aroused over plansto build a new school house. At the end of the meeting at the church in which the proposal was first discussed, the late Don Gault once told friends, worshippers withdrew from the service and stood around brandishing sticks and picking up rocks, so irate were they. Tempers apparently cooled, however, and later on the congregation abandoned its small church building and met for a time in the newly constructed Fairyland School on Lula Lake Road.
Fragmentary records remaining list some of the ministers serving the Pine Grove church were the
Rev. Messrs. Booth, Cannon, Tomlinson and Ted Witt. They were assigned to the Rising Fawn Circuit which served Payne’s Chapel Methodist Church and the New Salem Methodist Church as well as the Lookout Mountain church.
For almost 20 years, the Mountain was without a Methodist church with most members of the faith retaining their membership in churches downtown. Then with the return of servicemen from World War II and a general rise in the Mountain population, talk began again of establishing a Methodist Church in the community.
Gault, a Rock City executive and still a member of the denomination after the demise of Pine Grove, was a leader in the movement. Jesse Sims, innkeeper and herb grower extraordinaire, was another. “We just decided we really needed a church, so the two of us put up enough money to finance a start — he had his half and I borrowed mine—toward organization,” he said.
The newly formed congregation received its charter on Dec. 20, 1953 and held its first worship service the following Easter Sunday. Aubrey Folts was chairman of the board of stewards, and recognized leaders in the church administration included Joe Massey, Ben Fulghum, Dick Borden and Fred
Woodall. The charter membership list carried 107 names.
A site for future building was purchased from Robert A. Greene, two-and-a-half acres at the corner of Lula Lake and McFarland Roads. A Victorian farm house on the property served as a meeting place until the new facilities could be built.
Immediately, the congregation began a series of fund-raising ventures to help meet construction costs. Bake sales, ice cream suppers, barbecues and craft sales became the order of the day. The most successful venture, however, began the Sunday they ‘‘passed the collection plates backward.” Each was laden with $10 bills and members were invited to take one or more and, in three weeks, to return with what they gained from careful investments of the money.
This modern application of the parable of the talents brought about a near total participation by the membership, young and old. Sims remembers he purchased some home-fashioned walking sticks and reaped a profit from visitors fascinated with these examples of mountain crafts. Stanley Doyle, a teenager, made tape recordings — a rarity then — for people to keep as remembrances. Don and Preston Wilson, barely tall enough to carry their wares, sold peanuts to mountain households; Mary and George Lawley set up a roadside stand with aprons and pickels for sale; Douglas Sims made and sold wooden bases for lamps.
It was all remarkably successful. Within the allotted span, members turned in $4,646.28 made from their original investments.
An education wing was completed in 1955, and was used for worship while the old house was removed and the main sanctuary built. It was finished in 1959.
The church for some years operated a kindergarten program for the community. It still maintains a “helping hand” program for the area, and is a continuing support of the Bheeminihalli Hospital in Yad-giri, India.
Ministers who have served the church are as follows: Amos L. Rogers Jr., 1953-1960; Herbert D. Hart, 1960-1961; Roger E. Hilton, 1961-1965; C. C. Mize, 1965-1966; Nelson C. Woody, 1966-1969; Paul M. Brown, 1969-1971; C. King Duncan Jr., 1971-1973; William B. Thomas, 1975-1982; Alfred L. Newman, 1982-.
And among its greatest treasures are a pulpit Bible, given to the Pine Grove congregation by Mrs. William E. Brock Sr., in 1926, as an expression of her support of the little congregation, and the lectern used as a pulpit in their church.
Soon after
The first school was established in 1878 in the building traditionally called “the Little Red Schoolhouse,” the affectionate appreciation for this early facility showing through use of thefamiliarterm. The building was located at the present-day intersection of Scenic Highway and Forrest Avenue and, in reconstructed form is still in use as a residence.
It was in the 1870s owned by J. G. Burton who rented it to the school administrators for $75 a year. Children from Georgia as well as Tennessee attended classes there with the out-of-state students paying a tuition fee of about $5 a term.
The single-story building had two rooms, one for grades 1 -4, the other for grades 5-8. By 1890 the roll book shows an enrollment of 32 students and an average daily attendance of between 25 and 30 under the direction of J. W. Sheridan, principal.
Some of the names in the register still have a familiar ring today: Brunswick Lowe; Bartow, Frances and Ada Strang; Walter and Isabel Temple; Ida, John and Thomas Lively; Hollis, Frank and Margaret Caldwell; Paul, Garnet, Mary Lynn, Lucille and Doris Carter; Clark, Eloise and Jesse Willingham; Beulah and Mary Mitchell; Harold and Margaret Morrison; and from Georgia, the Gossett, Penley, Massey and Clippinger families.
One of the system’s earliest teacher-principals was Miss Rosecrans, and from 1895 to 1900 the well-remembered Misses Agnes and Emma Putnam served along with Miss Eva Watson as teachers. The pay scale at the time ran around $60 a month for an eight-month term. Other employees included a janitor and a “water carrier.” The latter was usually a student, paid $1 a month to see that the school had fresh water every day.
School board meetings reflect the fact that neither the weather or health conditions were always conducive to uninterrupted schooling. In February, 1985, it was noted that “cold and heavy snow closed school for two weeks,” and three years later, in ’98, “the temperature dropped to 18° below zero, closing school.” On the other hand, September 1899 had such “extremely hot” weather that school opening was delayed. In March 1902, “school was closed” because of an outbreak of scarlet fever. But the chronic ailment was noted in March 1899: “School closed because of a lack of funds.”
An unusual, if not unique, situation developed a bit later when the board received a letter from an H. Calvin Smith of Chicago inquiring about the possibility of securing control of the school to be operated under the auspices of the Order of Railway Conductors. Commissioners were interested enough for further contact, but dropped the idea when it learned that Mr. Smith was “desirous of obtaining a warranty deed of said school and proposed to furnish teachers for same and also have charge of all finances.” The board quickly decided that Mr. Smith’s proposition could not be “favorably received.”
Plans for a new school building were discussed as early as August 1892. By the end of the year the matter was referred to county school officials and a campaign launched to raise necessary funds. In 1896 lots were acquired for a building to be erected where the present gym and skating rink are located. That same year, a music teacher, Prof. A. J. Lough was hired at $2 a month “to visit two rooms, once each week.”
Pupils moved into their new building on Jan. 19, 1900. Prof. J. A. Gaines was introduced as the new principal, and the flag, a gift from Maj. C. P. Evans on behalf of the Patriotic Order of the Sons of America, “was hoisted to its mast as Mrs. C. B. Whaley sang the Star Spangled Banner.”
The board reported applications from many parts of the country for positions on the faculty. Pay ranged to $100 a month for principal and from $45 to $65 a month for teachers. Summer work helped out. In 1913 it was noted that one teacher, Mr. Wesley, “cleaned and sandpapered all the desks and cal-
cimined the walls of the entire building,” four rooms and halls, for which he was paid $25.
The curriculum in those years was surprisingly broad, including classes in reading, writing, English literature, arithmetic, physiology and hygiene, home economics, music, group singing, geography, United States and Tennessee history, health and nutrition, nature study, kindness to animals, drawing and citizenship.
Great attention was paid to the health of the students. Medical and dental examinations were given regularly. However, epidemics were beyond the school’s ability to control. The influenza outbreak in 1918 and another of diphtheria in 1922 forced extended shutdowns.
One of relatively few
extracurricular diversions forthe students was the Mountaineers’ Literary
Society, established in 1910 by Mrs. Cunningham, wife of the principal. All
high school students were eligible for membership in the society which met each
Friday afternoon. Its debates were accorded top priority, with speakers taking
opposing sides of such issues as these: Resolved, that
the mop is of more use than the broom, the gun isbetterthan the dog, and there
is going to be a railroad up
Members of the society in one term included J. B. Ragon, Lappe Caldwell, Bethel Carruth, Hazel Carruth, Jerry Wilbur, John Nefe, Lucy Annis, Gertrude Graves, Marion Wheelock, Corrus Carruth, Russell Annis, Minnie Lieb, Gertrude Lieb, Mary Hamill, Lydia Graves, Dorothy Jackson, Marvin Massey, Richard Hobart, Lorene Umensetter, Roy Barrows, Neil Massey, Edna Umensetter, Lonny Harbin, and Ethel Weaver.
The board seemed determined to keep a tight rein on all aspects of the curriculum. At one point it denied a teacher’s request to omit some recitations because of a lack of time. It insisted that the whole course be followed. The board also asked the principal to “advise the teacher that the board desires no reading be permitted during school hours outside of textbooks used in school.”
Improvements came, although slowly at times. Music had been added in 1899, the library in 1900, running water in 1903. Gas lighting was installed in 1908 and a water fountain was given the school by Frank Caldwell in 1912. In 1916, toilets were cohsi-dered but the cost was judged to be “far too excessive.”
A kindergarten department was added in 1921. Although it ran for only a year, it was hailed as a forward looking step and led eventually to its resumption in 1938.
In 1927, Lookout Mountain School became a part of the Hamilton County system, designated as School No. 1 of the 19th District.
A new building was erected at the present location in 1929. The mountain stone building housed eight classrooms and four accessory rooms. C. T. Jones was the architect and D. F. Brandon the contractor for the $70,000 structure. The county paid $50,000 of the cost, Lookout Mountain the remainder. Five teachers were furnished by the county, three by the town.
Records show that the following have served as principals of the school, in addition to those named earlier: May 1918-April 1919 — Horace G. Jones, April 1919-May 1924 — Miss Anna Mason King, May 1924-1927 — Mrs. Vera Bowen Munson, 1927-1929 — Mrs. Ethel Stroud, 1929-1944 — Elbert L. Fox. 1944-1971 —Erich W.Jahn, 1971 —Marvin D.Lane.
The Jahn tenure of 27 years, longest to date, was marked by significant improvements in physical facilities, but more importantly by positive changes in the curriculum. In 1962, Mr. Jahn and the school board successfully guided the school and community through an uneventful program of racial integration, the first to be undertaken in county schools.
A major problem in those post-war years was a constant growth in the number of children to be accommodated in the increasingly crowded classrooms. With the “baby boom” at its peak, enrollment peaked at slightly over 300, with every grade operating in two sections. However, in 1971 the sixth grade graduated with a class of 52 and the next year only 24 children were enrolled in kindergarten. The baby boom was over and problems of a different sort — adjustments in faculty and program to accommodate shrinking classes — occupied the attention of Marvin Lane who succeeded Mr. Jahn in 1971.
Over the years, through the leadership of principals and faculty and with the broad based financial help from the town, Lookout Mountain School has become one of the best equipped and most forward looking schools in the area. Expanded programs in art, music and foreign languages offer exceptional opportunities for students to learn beyond their years at the elementary levels. The latest step in this direction is the creation of a course in the use of computers. A special room has been redone to accommodate the regular classes held for those interested in this field.
While children on the Georgia side of Look-out Mountain — at least those close enough to do so — have always had access to schools in the Tennessee community under special arrangements, development of their own educational system soon matched the residential growth of the area.
One of the early schools was established in the 1870s in the Gerber community with classes held in the Old Payne’s Chapel, about three miles south of the present Covenant College. The combined use of a single building for church, school and community gatherings in general was a common practice of the time.
This was a one-room log cabin with a crude fireplace and chimney at one end. Pupils came not only from the Gerber community but also from the Lula Lake area. The structure burned in 1906 and another combination building took its place in 1908.
In these years around the turn of the century, Georgia residents were also attending the Lookout Mountain School in Tennessee — at a cost of four dollars a child for each four-month period — as well as other private institutions.
The Ridgeway School was another one-room school, four miles northeast of Chattooga and four miles west of Wesley Chapel. One teacher, Miss Ethel Skates, was in charge of the five grades with 38 pupils.
The earliest real forerunner of the present Fairyland School was one held in the Pine Grove Methodist Church until around 1926. It was located half a mile south of the present school site on Lula Lake Road. Miss Zephyr Palmer, the only teacher, had in her charge 36 pupils in seven grades for a six-month school year. Records indicate the schoolroom was well lighted with long homemade desks and good blackboards but lacking maps, charts, globes, pictures and dictionaries for learning aids.
The grounds of the old Lookout Mountain Educational Institutions were part of the 450 acres purchased by Garnet Carter and the Fairyland Company in 1924. The buildings were razed to make way for Fairyland’s development.
Mr. Carter donated the
land on which the present school is located in 1928 to the community. Wilson A.
Gosnell was chosen as architect for the new school, completed in 1931. Mrs. C.
H. Hillhouse was the school’s first principal. Seventeen students were
enrolled.
Long past are the days when the principal rewarded pupils who had completed their work satisfactorily with permission to fish in the pond next to the school.
From one-room and 36 pupils at the Pine Grove location, the Fairyland School has grown to 250 pupils with 15 teachers plus a school staff. Plans are underway for a half-million-dollar developmental program to include a new library, new classrooms, air conditioning, a new kindergarten wing, and a new media center.
Principals who have served Fairyland are listed as: Mrs. C. H. Hillhouse, 1931-44; Mrs. Albert Hurst, 1944-46; James H. Keller, 1946-52; Lawrence Cunningham, 1952-55; Icye Farris, 1955-67; Ellen Marie Moore, 1967-April 1973; Philip W. Shelton (interim), April 1973-June 1974; Edward H. Partelow, 1974-84; Ann W. Abney, 1984-.
I, as a school boy, think teachers should get about $40.90 a month and schools should be closed about six months out of the year. With this system there would be so few entering the profession that we
wouldn’t have enough teachers to have school and we’d have one big vacation and go happy, if ignorant,
—Jimmy Alexander
On July 18, 1908, C. F. Krichbaum of St. Elmo signed a contract with the School Commissioners of Lookout Mountain, J. E. Annis, J. D. Eager and A. J. Graves, to build a modern facility for the community. It was to be 30x36 feet with a 12V2-foot ceiling, ten windows, two outside and four inside doors, a double-flue brick chimney “built from the ground,’’ and a roof of #1 heart pine shingles. All woodwork, inside and out, was to be covered with two coats of the best grade paint. In addition, the contractor agreed “to build two closets on the lot, each to be 4x6 feet with three openings in each seat. ’’ The building was to be completed “in workmanlike manner’’ and turned over to the town on or before September 8, 1908, “for the sum of $900.’’ So it was. And Lookout Mountain had taken a first step toward providing the Mountain’s black community with proper educational facilities.
The
Miss Lillie Belle Speight was the first — and sole — teacher when the school was founded, and she served both as teacher and principal of the school from 1908 to 1927. She left to become a faculty member in the Chattanooga public school system.
In the years 1927-31, the school had three different teacher-principals, Thelma Vaughan, 1927-29; Vivian McDonald, 1929-30; and Charles B. Mathis, 1930-31.
In 1929, a two-room building of mountain stone was erected. Stone from the old Lookout Mountain Elementary School became available when that building was razed to permit the construction of another facility.
By this point in its history, the school had 35 pupils under the charge of Mrs. Myrtle Jones as teacher-principal. Many adults living in the Mountain’s present black community went to school to Mrs. Jones, recognized as an outstanding teacher. She was at the school from 1931 to 1962.
In the latter year the
school was closed with its integration with the
Various proposals were made for the use of the building, but never came to fruition and the structure was later razed to clear the site, now occupied by new homes in the Lincoln Street-Sunnypoint Lane area.
How can anyone recognize the Russians with all the long beards they wear? In fact, no one can because their beards almost cover them. Anyhow, how can we tell one man’s whiskers from another’s?
—Mary Catherine Coffey
Private school education
became available for the children of
As early as 1859, an “institute for boys” was established by H. W. Aldehoff, an educator with experience in Cleveland and other Tennessee towns. It occupied a building on the Joseph McCulloh property near Natural Bridge.
The school closed in 1861, partly because of the gathering clouds of war, although contemporary accounts indicate it had been well received. The children of James A. Whiteside, an early developer of the Mountain, and of Robert Cravens, a pioneer industrialist, were among its students.
After the Civil War was over, Aldehoff opened a school in Chattanooga, built on College Hill.
In 1857, leaders of the Episcopal Church in several southern states met here to discuss plans for establishing a university to serve the region. Ever alert to possibilities for bringing new ventures to Lookout Mountain, Col. Whiteside conferred with them in hopes that the new University of the South would be located here. It was not to be; a later meeting of the trustees chose Sewanee as the spot.
The war left educational facilities in the South all but destitute, with buildings burned and libraries scattered in many places, and the student-age group sadly depleted by death or unable to raise the money to attend college.
Early in 1865, Christopher R. Robert, a New York merchant, conceived a plan for establishing a school of “high education, open to both sexes, under the most approved methods of instruction, with teachers of experience, culture and Christian character.” It was also his hope that this school would be inviting “to men and women of refinement, yet at a cost not beyond the reach of the middle classes and of pupils dependent upon their own resources.” His search for a good location brought him to Lookout Mountain where the buildings once used as a federal hospital caught his eye. Robert purchased the buildings and 220 surrounding acres, in the present Fleetwood Drive-Sylvan Trail area, from the family of Dr. R. M. S. Jackson. He had been a surgeon at the hospital. The cost was $40,000, and renovation of the buildings brought Robert’s investment to $100,000.
Robert also purchased 400 acres on Missionary Ridge with the hope of building a girls’ school there. The plans never materialized and he used the site as a farm to supply food to the Mountain school.
The Lookout Mountain Educational Institution, as it was formally named, opened on May 15, 1866. An advertisement promised “a good education for those fitting for college or any department of business, all for $100 a term,” which covered “board, washing, lights, tuition and the use of books.”
The three departments of study were preparatory, English, business and classical. While Robert believed schools should be “non-political, nonsectarian and non-denominational,” the program also included daily prayers and religious services on Sunday.
Students attending LMEI came from far and near, making it the largest boarding school in the South. Sons and daughters of both U.S. and Confederate troops were among the students, and some had even seen action themselves.
Robert closed the school after six years, partly because he was in ill health and partly because he desired to concentrate his resources on Robert College which he had established in Constantinople. During its brief existence, 467 students were enrolled — 265 from Tennessee, 94 from Georgia, 67 from Alabama and the others from a total of 21 different states or foreign countries.
While the New Yorker made frequent trips to Lookout Mountain to check on the school’s progress, he entrusted its day-to-day operations to local administrators. Among those who had served were the Rev. Edward F. Williams, the Rev. C. P. F. Bancroft, and Miss Mary Wilson as principals, and the Rev. C. C. Carpenter, superintendent.
Records indicate that from 1878 and 1879, Miss Mary Strickland operated a school in the old LMEI buildings. She reported 30 students enrolled but the name of the school has been lost.
The magnificent
mountaintop tract on which
Roots of its ownership stretch back through the bitter days of land disputes between the Indians who roamed it and the white men who wanted it. Under an 1819 treaty, the Lookout Mountain area lay along the northern boundary of the Cherokee Nation. With the later removal westward of the Indians over the “trail of tears,” the land fell to the federal government which ordered it auctioned off for the benefit for widows and orphans of the War of 1812.
Robert M. Parris was one
of the successful bidders, and he later added to his holdings on
In 1856, he sold 400 acres, including the land known as Jackson Hill and Jackson Springs, to C. C. Jackson, the great-grandfather of Rufus M. Triplett of Chattanooga. The price was $1 an acre, and Jackson moved his family from East Tennessee to a cabin he built in the Frontier Bluff area.
Remnants of the family orchard still survive, and the family cemetery lies in a protected spot beneath the college. Courtland S. Jackson, a bachelor remembered as a great eccentric, was the last person buried there.
Mrs. Sallie Jackson, the
wife of C. C. Jackson, remembered hearing the noise of cannon and musket fire
from the Battle of Chickamauga. Members of the family went to the top of
Jackson Hill seeking glimpses of the conflict in the far distance. Federal
troops later used the
Mrs. Jackson left the property to her daughter, Mrs. Mary Marquis Jackson Triplett.
In modern times, the site
is still remembered by many for the mountain laurel which grew there in
abundance. Jac Chambliss recalls driving a buggy there with “Cap” Tom Lively to
collect pieces of the laurel wood which Mr. Lively used to carve souvenir
letter openers for sale at his soft drink stand
The Lookout Mountain Hotel, now the main building on Covenant’s campus, was constructed there in the late '20s as an elegant resort. However, it failed under the pressures of the Great Depression. Two subsequent attempts to revive it as a hotel were also unsuccessful.
In the mid-’60s the property came to the attention of Hugh Smith of Huntsville, who saw in it great possibilities as a college center.
He recommended the idea to
the trustees of
After deliberation, the decision was made to move to Lookout Mountain. Necessary renovations were made to the buildings and the dedicatory service was held Sept. 19, 1964, with a crowd of 400 in attendance. Dr. J. Parke McCallie of Chattanooga gave the invocation and Lookout Mountain Mayor Carter Parham sounded the welcome of the Mountain community.
Dr. Robert Rayburn was president of the college when the move was made and continued to serve until Dr. Marion Barnes was elected as his successor in 1965. Under both administrations, the institution moved steadily forward in its program to develop a quality liberal arts college in the Reformed Presbyterian tradition with an evangelical emphasis.
In his 13-year tenure — he retired in 1978 — Dr. Barnes oversaw a program of marked progress in facilities and scope. Classroom space was increased, a library added, a gymnasium built and a handsome chapel erected overlooking the valley below. Dormitory rooms were added to accommodate a growing student body.
Covenant received its accreditation by the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools, a mark of quality performance, in 1971.
Dr. Martin Essenburg
succeeded Dr. Barnes as president, overseeing a student body of some 575,
including those on campus and those enrolled in Quest, an external degree
program centered in downtown
It was, contemporaries agreed, a move in self defense.
Halloween had gotten out of hand. Mischief and vandalism were making a mockery of the festive occasion. Something had to be done.
In 1947, anumber of parents gottogetherto plan something that would not only be
fun but would also bring Mountain families closer together AND make money for
the
The result: plansfor a Halloween Carnival. It was an ambitious project and no one even professed to know how it would turn out.
Margaret and Bob Killebrew and Charlotte and Hugh Maclellan were chosen to head the project scheduled for Halloween Night at the Town Common. Merchants were contacted for favors to be given away every 30 minutes. School children were issued tickets to sell. Prizes were to be awarded classes whose members sold the most.
Lake Winnepesaukah generously lent its train, track and all, as well as an airplane ride. Krystal Co. agreed to set up a model booth and cook hamburgers. Mountain families were urged to bake cookies for a Country Store. In short, everyone possible was involved.
By October 31, all was in readiness. Booths were up, properly decorated with crepe paper and colored lights. The little train whistled its way around the track, and a calliope added its lilting tune. The air carried an aroma of homemade chili and freshly grilled hamburgers. Everything was in readiness. One question remained: Would anybody come?
Then they started arriving — in droves. There were witches and goblins, ghosts and clowns. Suddenly the Common was alive with people. Young and old alike tested their skills at pitching balls at milk bottles, spinning the wheel of fortune, climbing a greased pole.
An estimated 1,200 persons showed up for that first Carnival and, even though late showers sent some home before they wished to leave, a tradition had been born.
Profits that year came to $2,080, enough to install fluorescent lights in all the classrooms of the school.
Since that first year, there have been 39 carnivals, some bigger and better, some colder and some wetter than others, but all successful. Gradually, the date has been moved forward to try to assure better weather, and multiplied thousands of dollars have been turned over to the school to make it one of the best equipped schools in the county. Carnival funds have paid for such resources as cafeteria equipment, a front sidewalk, playground equipment, carpet for the library, school auditorium renovation, dictionaries and maps, adding machines and typewriters, and quite importantly, teacher salary supplements.
Through the years there have been many changes in the entertainment. Since the Carnival is no longer on Halloween, people do not come in costume. Changing tastes have added nachos, tacos and chili-dogs to the familiar hamburgers and fried chicken. From haunted houses and fortune tellers, the booths have moved on to shooting galleries and moon walks. Square dances, jitterbug contests and go-go dancing have been featured, and one year a mock symphony concert was arranged. The Country Store for home-baked goods is the one concession that has remained unchanged.
But, sponsors say, through the evolution of the Carnival, there has always been a wonderful spirit of cooperation and community togetherness. The youths of 1940 are now the parents of a new generation and they carry on.
Any list of names of those who have worked in the Carnival would resemble the Mountain phone directory. The following is an enumeration of the
It takes more than a near catastrophe to keep a good brass bell silent.
Frank F. Stoops told the story in the May 1953 issue of The Mountain Breeze.
It was in the summer of 1894, he recalled, that the little steam engine on the “narrow gauge railroad which ran along the base of the west bluff of the Mountain jumped the track just below the old Nottingham place [in the 600 block of West Brow Road] and dropped 45 feet in the ravine.” It was completely disabled, but the engine was running singly and no passenger cars were involved.
Mr. Stoops’ article continues:
“The superintendent of the railroad, Thomas L. Derickson, was acting as engineerthatday and Harry S. Cleppenger was the fireman. Neither was injured; however, both were badly shaken up.
“When the wreck was cleared up, Mr. Derickson presented Mr. Cleppenger with the bell. It was solid brass, ten inches in diameter and nine inches high.
chairmen who freely admit their indebtedness to all the others:
Margaret Killebrew and Charlotte Maclellan, 1947; Emily Heberer, 1948; Ruth Robinson, 1949; Dorothy Holt, 1950; Katie and Sam Smartt, 1951; Josita Mitchell, 1952; Glen Alice Dixon, 1953 and 1956; Mickie Gott, 1954; Mary Ann Sizer, 1955; Jean Holbert, 1957; Hazel Banks and Jo Gilman, 1958; Bucky Douglass, 1959; Fran Simmons and Eleanor Bryan, 1960; Doris Wells and Betty Patten, 1961; Susan Martin and Hilda Davis, 1962; Helen Brown and Harriet Caldwell, 1963; Charlotte Hooker and Ginger Horn, 1964; Jo Gilman and June Chesnutt, 1965; Jean Evans and Jody Clark, 1966; Shirley Grant and Jane Williams, 1967; Pat Lane and Beth Crumbliss, 1968; Betsy Shadden and Mary Martin, 1969; Leland Davenport and Katie Taff, 1970; Beverly Hannah and Betty McGee, 1971; Pat Persinger and Barbara Peacock, 1972; Helen Brewer and Betsy Walley, 1973; Kay Campbell, 1974; Anetta Howell and Betsy Gothard, 1975; Starlet Speakman and Winston Paschall, 1976; Gail Edgar and Starlet Speakman, 1977; Ann Jones and Diane Moore, 1978; Linda Chapin and Winston Paschall, 1979; Katherine Paty and Francie Bryan, 1980; Carla Roy, Carolyn Guerry and Mignonne Pearson, 1981; Candy Killebrew, Becky Glover and Peggy Sherill, 1982; Emmy Haney, Marie Thatcher, and Fran Rittenberry, 1983; Neil Oehmig and Cissy Tarumianz, 1984; Alice Montague and Cheryl Stinnett, 1985; Homecoming, 1986.
Cleppenger desired to make a contribution and he bell was moved to it.”
presented the bell to the school. Mr. Stoops expressed a hope he would again
‘‘The old school building was torn down and gave hear the bell ‘‘whose tone was so familiar to the
way to the present school building. The cut stone of residents of the Mountain in the ’90s who were pa-
the old building was used in erecting the colored trons and passengers of the old narrow gauge rail-
school on
Since the day the present
Inevitably, there was a need for funds with which to finance improvements and additions. Any number of money-making projects were implemented such as pecan sales, magazine subscription campaigns and community suppers. In 1955, the cookbook, ‘‘Fairyland Cooking Magic,” was published under the leadership of Alice (Mrs. Ashford) Todd, and in 1958 and 1959, Fairyland School was in charge of The Country Store at the Lookout Mountain Carnival.
The PTA made a decision in 1960 to host the school’s own Fairyland Festival the following year. The 1961 festival was a two-day affair, Friday and Saturday, with rides and games, and fried chicken suppers sold in bags. Parents representing the PTA worked for the merchants of Fairyland who gave a percentage of their profits to the festival.
The 1962 Festival was once again a two-day celebration with real live circus acts presented. In 1963 the Festival was moved to the field behind the school. Patrons thought, ‘‘Home at last!” The major attraction that year was a sky diver landing on the field. The Fairyland cookbook was revised by Celeste (Mrs. Edwin) Shuck and Sarah (Mrs. Walter) Hooper, under the title, “The New Fairyland Cooking Magic.”
A new cookbook was compiled in 1979 by Ann (Mrs. Joe) Donnovin and Barbara (Mrs. Jack) Colquitt. It became “The Mountain Sampler.”
The purpose of the Festival has always been to supplement one teacher on the staff. Enrollment at the school has increased from 17 in 1931 to 250 in 1986.
Leaders in the Festival say that while the effort has involved a great deal ofworkoverthe years, there have been some lighter moments as well.
They remember the year that Monk Robinson came by the Festival on his way home from work, briefcase under his arm. He set the case by a table — in the “white elephant booth” as it so happened — while he went to look at other things. Someone came along, expressed interest in the nice case, and Celeste Shuck, in charge of the booth, sold it on the spot. “And I got a good price, too,” she said later, “because it was such nice leather.”
Then in the midst of the “streaking” era, a small number of funners, lightly clad if at all, raced through the Festival grounds. Identification: None.
Those who have served as general chairmen of the Festival are listed as follows: Locke and Marianna Thomison, 1961; Mason Daley, 1962; Bev (Mrs. Jack) Webb, 1963; Emeline Ferguson, 1964; Gail Voges, 1965; Mrs. Robert August, 1966; Barbara Holley, 1967; Kathleen Murphy, 1968; Marcia Guil-bert, 1969; Helen Kwasnik, 1970; Wendy Taliaferro, 1971; Susan Pettway, 1972; Mary Payne, 1973; Sue Lawrence, 1974; Carolyn Culp, 1975; Betsy Willingham, 1976; Susan Doubleday, 1977; Faye Richards, 1978; Tricia Dudley, 1979; Joy Megahee, 1980; Diane Brown, 1981; Sandra Warner, 1982; Sue Rucker, 1983; Sally Cheney, 1984; Linda Hendy and Nancy Ahmadi, 1985; Judy Eller and Jean Wilson, 1986.
Somethings change, others very little if at all. Under the date of Jan. 6, 1896, Margaret Hamilton Ervin, daughter of Mrs. T. C. Ervin Sr., told her dirary:
“We have to goto school today and I don’t like it a bit but after while and when I get started again, I will like it I guess.”
Perhaps she was remembering an event of a year earlier. On Jan. 14, 1895, she had written with her own spelling and punctuation:
“Our school had our concort (concert) tonight and Rob and I went with the Pendleton children we had a lovely time played first for a while and then we said speeches Rob and I said our speeches and then we stood in a long row and first a lady gave us a little bag of candy and then another gave us a pop corn ball and then another lady gave us an apple and started for home Mr. Pendleton brought us home . . . We found mama and Maud still not in bed They had made some candy . . . it was much better than the candy that we got at the concort. I am going to bed good night.”
The
The nursery school was
established in 1936 by Mrs. Wilford Caulkins Jr. in her home on
Mrs. Caulkins was generally credited with being a genius in shepherding the children placed in her care from one stage in their lives to another. Her patience with her charges was exceeded only by her love for them, and they responded in kind.
West Oehmig was once quoted as telling her in class one day that “you’re the beautifullest lady in the world.” The pure candor of childhood, however, led him to add: “If you cut your hair, you’d be even gooder.” It is not recorded that Mrs. Caulkins even batted an eye at the sudden shift in emphasis.
And, it is said, Tommy Gilman’s grandmother once asked him if he had had to stand in the corner that day. “No, mam,” he replied, “there wasn’t any corners left.”
Committing poems or prose passages to memory has always been an important part of the school program, especially at graduation time when the children perform for their parents and friends gathered for the occasion.
Nancy Caulkins began
assisting in the school in 1968 and took over its operation with Mrs. Caulkins’
death. She initiated a summer camp program in 1980.
The Things They Like to Remember:
It was not, almost anyone would agree, an easy jaunt, this visitto “Lake Seclusion” atop Lookout Mountain, for the youthful Miss Sarah Lois Wadley. Her journal recounts a four-day journey in mule-drawn conveyances from their North Georgia starting point to the place where “below us slept a black lake, still and mysterious, deep in the bosom of the mountain.”
It was in the late summer of 1866; the Civil War was not long over. As they passed through LaFayette, “we saw some of the ravages of the Yankees: houses burned, windows broken, and in one place, entrenchments thrown up.”
But Miss Wadley and the other members of the friendly party had their minds fixed on their goal, Lookout Mountain. As seen in the distance, it was “misty and beautiful in its graceful, undulating lines” with a “great perpendicular wall of rock that rises straight from the forest slope at the base.”
Numbering perhaps a dozen, they travelled under the watchful eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Redmond (not otherwise identified), whom she called “our brave General” and “la Generalisima.” Another member was Mary Wadley, her sister, who later married William Greene Raoul. William G. Raoul is their grandson. The diary, its pencilled pages now dim with age, was carefully but laboriously transcribed in 1985 by Kit Raoul.
The transport included ambulances from the barely over War Between the States, wagons for the supplies and a surrey or two for the older members of the party. The journey lasted four days, from Monday, Aug. 20, to Thursday, Aug. 23, 1866. The party travelled steadily during the daylight hours, although with periodic rest periods. One, she noted, was at Cave Spring “to provide a few necessaries, namely tin cups, thread gauntlets, brown veils, matches and innumerable other nondescripts.” Nights were spent at camping sites, or in one instance at the isolated home of a Squire Hendricks who was “fixed to take travellers.”
On Thursday, she noted in her diary that the entry was being written at a site close to “Lake Seclusion.” This was the scene as she described it:
“The evening was clear, the sunset beautiful. A drive of two miles [from their campsite J brought us to this place. It is a very ordinary hill. . .By the time we reached here, it was dusk. We enquired, ‘Where is the beautiful scenery?’ But Mr. Redmond was gone . . . Then all of a sudden, Mr. Redmond appeared and offered to guide us.
“A very little walk, and in a moment we were arrested by a wild and awful scene. Down a rude, rocky descent, across a narrow rill of water flowing among stones, we found a large flat rock. Below us slept a black lake, still and mysterious, deep in the bosom of the mountain, closed round by high walls except on the side opposite our standpoint, where the gorge opened, piled with immense boulders thrown together in confusion. Dark hemlocks grew in the clefts of the rocks and pines hung over the precipices.
All this was seen at night, the moon arising over the mountain behind us and riding through scattered masses of clouds. But this was not the picturesque light by which we saw it.
“In the wintertime there is a great deal of water in this gorge and a great deal of driftwood is collected among the rocks just below the lake; and here Mr. Redmond had made afire. This firelight, leaping and roaring up in tongues of flame, partly illuminating the black lake, gleaming on the rocks and dusky trees, produced a magical effect. One wall of the lake is a vast arch. The firelight falling on this made in the still water a reflection perfectly beautiful, a semblance of a crenellated castle when its towers and buttresses are lighted by a glowing sunset. We stayed long to view this scene. Who could ever forget it?
“(We) went to the overhanging precipice of the lake and looked directly down upon the fire, now a mass of glowing coals, so soon had the great con-flagaration raged itself to quiteness again.”
Her vivid descriptions, of course, lead to the inevitable conclusion that her “Lake Seclusion” is our “Lula Lake,” a name affixed in later years.
Indeed, William Raoul remembers that “early in the 1930s my father drove his mother to Lula Lake. She at once remembered the place and told my father of the 1866 expedition.”
ary Crutchfield and Ed McMillin are
cousins who, at 90 and 94 years of age, remember “the good ole days on
Mary’s father, J. A. Mitchell, and his brother, W. B. Mitchell, bought Mountain property in the early 1890s and built summer retreats. At that time, the families had their permanent homes in Chattanooga, at the foot of Cameron Hill. With the advent of summer the Mitchells, along with many other citizens, made their way to the top of Lookout Mountain.
When Mary was a baby, her parents sold their home in the city and moved to the Mountain permanently. Here, Mary remembers going barefoot most of the summer, walking across the precarious street car trestles, racing down Lula Lake Road in horse-drawn carriages, and sledding down the many hills in the snow.
Ed McMillin was born in 1892 in a house next door to the Cravens House on the side of Lookout Mountain. Pioneer industrialist Robert Cravens was his great-grandfather, and the house in which he was born belonged to his grandmother, Nancy Cravens McMillin, and her husband, Jonathan P. McMillin. Robert Cravens’ home “Alta Vista” was restored in 1955 by the Chattanooga Chapter of the Association for the Preservation of Tennessee Antiquities and is now designated as a national historic site. Robert Cravens’ daughter’s home was constructed after the Civil War. It was a large frame house set among the cherry trees, and boasted what is believed to be the first tennis court in the area.
While Mary was walking through the woods or riding the “Dinkey” to school, Ed and his brother Douglass were climbing up the pathway under the cliffs or riding the Incline to the top of the Mountain. From there they, too, walked through the woods to the new Lookout Mountain School.
The first school which Ed attended was “the Little Red Schoolhouse” located at the corner of what is now known as Scenic Highway and South Forrest Avenue. Mary, who was four years younger, did not enter school until the new one was built on Bragg Avenue.
Ed and Mary both recall that the Lookout Moun-
There was no electricity or running water; on foggy days, the students studied by lamplight. Potbellied stoves warmed the classrooms. Those who needed to be “excused” walked to the outhouses in the back of the building. Water came from nearby cisterns and the well in the backyard. The children carried their lunches and ate them in their classrooms or out in the schoolyard, weather permitting.
Mary told her interviewer, Peggy Kovacevich, that it is a real tribute to the principals and teachers — who not only lacked so-called “modern conveniences” but also had the problems of pranksters, parents, and programs just as today — that they managed to “get the children educated.”
Mary and Ed both recalled the “three beautiful girls” who lived across the street from the school. They waited to leave until the bells started ringing and were always late to classes. The students who had to trudge through rain and snow, often with lanterns in hand on a foggy day, managed to get to school on time!
Mary and Ed remember Frank Gunn who moved here from Iowa with his bride. Mrs. Gunn taught the classes on the first floor and her husband taught the upper grades on the second floor. During the ice storm of 1905 the children were all sent home from school early, but Ed could not get down the cliffs to his home and the Incline was not working. Mr. and Mrs. Gunn took their student in as a “boarder” and gave him an upstairs room for three or four days. Since the only heat in the house came from small coal-burning fireplaces downstairs, Ed said he nearly froze to death, but under the circumstances was happy to have a place to stay.
Summertime meant baseball games, church socials, picnics at the Old College Grounds or the area around the present Rock City, and hayrides to Lula Lake with a swim in the cool waters beneath the falls.
These cousins remember well the hotels that were on Lookout Mountain during their youth, as they were not only tourist attractions but were also the center of much of the social life in the area.
The Mountain House at the top of Whiteside Turnpike was popular as a “family hotel,” and was the scene of much activity. The Saturday night dances were famous and largely attended — especially by the younger set of that generation.
The Point Hotel just underneath Point Park was a very elegant health resort with a commanding view of the valley.
The Lookout Mountain Inn at the top of the Incline was one of the most famous luxury hotels in the United States at the time. The four-storied building was a favorite gathering place for summer vacationers and many elaborate parlies were held there.
Mary and Ed recall vividly when the Inn burned. Ed was a student at Baylor School, at that time located downtown on Palmetto Street, and the students could seethe smoke. When itwaslearned that the Inn was burning, all the Lookout Mountain students were let out of classes and made their way to the foot of the Mountain. They had to walk up the Incline tracks since the cars were not able to run. Mary was at G.P.S. and her mother was downtown shopping. She was at the local bakery when she heard of the fire and, summoning her carriage and driver, hopped in with a friend and promptly sat on the cherry pie she had purchased for dinner.
The Lookout Mountain Hotel, later known as the Castle in the Clouds, was another luxury hostelry which the Crutchfield and McMillin families enjoyed. They remember dining, dancing and entertaining guests at the hotel’s patio under the spell of an artificial moon perched high on a pole. The property is now the site of Covenant College.
Fairyland Inn (now Fairyland Club), the Tom Thumb Golf Course and the Gingerbread House provided entertainment for all ages.
M argaret Bright was brought up, she says, with the notion that “if you didn’t have a cow, you were not likely to amount to much.” That was what her father always insisted, she said, and that was one reason why she remembers so clearly that when the family came to Lookout Mountain for the summer, “a man servant walked our cow from Fort Wood to the top.”
The arrangement worked well for all concerned, except possibly the cow.
Mrs. Bright, daughter of George Thomas and Anne Henegar White, was born in 1893. She grew up in a pre-Civil War house, used as a general’s headquarters during the conflict, but says that “I spent every summer of my life on Lookout Mountain.”
Once school was out, the family journeyed up, by horse and wagon, to their summer home which occupied the site on which the James Griffiss residence now stands near the East Brow on Scenic Highway.
“We would bring two servants, a man to work in the yard and a woman to cook. The lot sloped down in the back and there was a brick and stone basement in which they lived.”
The house was a Victorian clapboard with outdoor shutters that opened and closed. It had a veranda with a chair swing and dark green rocking chairs. There was fancy gingerbread trim. When it was torn down, she says, it was the oldest house on the mountain. Downstairs there was a large entrance hall, with parlor and dining room in the back. There was a back porch to the kitchen, which was equipped with a cookstove and on the porch there was an icebox. Each morning, the ice man would come to deliver 50 pounds of ice.
In good weather, the family would eat outside and all about were pine forests, vines, ferns and Virginia creeper. No one cut the grass and so it was allowed to grow up like a meadow. “There were so many more birds and I rememberthe wood thrush, so timid and brown, and its song had a liquid tone.”
At night the house was lit with oil or acetylene lamps until gas jets were installed. Mr. White would light them with a long stick equipped with a wick.
The house was furnished with Victorian furniture and lots of wicker. The walls were light and the wooden floors were covered with straw matting, except for the kitchen. “Upstairs was my roost. It had an iron bed and a dresser and a big box. One special window was rectangular and had sidelights of stained glass. . . blue, red, green, and yellow. I loved to look out and see everything turn blue, then red, and so on.”
“Before my present home
was built (
“In the side yard there was a lovely apple orchard. Jefferson Davis slept in that hotel and it had many cisterns to catch rain water, but they have all been filled in.”
In the summer when the families moved to the mountain, many fathers walked down the mountain to work and then rode the Incline back up at the end of theday. “Fatherwould walkdown on adirtpath with a Mr. Mitchell.
“I rememberonedaythat my mother had ahorse hitched to the buggy and started down the mountain to town. Half-way down, the horse just turned around and wouldn’t go — he just went back home.
“Spring was a wonderful time for I got to shed my winter underwear, stockings and shoes and I had the whole summer to play, go on picnics and be barefooted. I would play all day and around 5:30 I would be called in. Each night there would be a fire in the grate — coal or logs — in the big open fireplace. One year the family got to stay late into September and I went to the Lookout Mountain School, just for a month. The teacher was Miss Hale and I walked home for lunch.”
“During the Depression, we decided to raise pigs. They were the last pigs on the mountain. Charlie Childers of the Fairyland Club would bring scraps to feed them. We were going to get rich on three pigs! We had to get rid of them when they were only halfgrown and we sold them to the Allisons.”
Mrs. Bright’s home was
built for her as a gift from her father on her marriage to Gardner Bright, and
she has lived in it since.
A lifetime on
“Oh, I tell you,” she said in a recent interview, “I was a very unhappy young girl” who wanted more than anything else to “go back home” in the valley.
But that was before she met Irvin Barrows, the young man who was to become her husband of more than 60 years.
“I had always prayed for a tall man to go with,” she said, eyes sparkling, “so I guess the good Lord just sent me to Lookout Mountain to find him.”
Their courtship began after they met at a party given by a neighbor soon after the Seagle family had moved here in 1921, and there is no sign it has ended. They were married in 1924 and have lived in the same house at 105 North Forrest since 1930.
Asked for a comment on her version of the opening days of their life together, Mr. Barrows smiled in concurrence: “ It happened just the way she said.”
Mr. Barrows, at 82 one of the oldest natives of Lookout still residing on the Mountain, was born in 1904 in what then a fairly isolated farm house on the present Scenic Highway just south of the shopping center. It is the site of the Lane Verlenden home, built in the '20s to replace the Barrows house.
“We had horses, cows, chickens, and a few pigs, and mostly grew vegetables with corn and the like.
“My father had a hauling business. He would
move families up or down the mountain, and bring up materials and supplies for his work as a carpenter. He used a wagon with a two-horse team, and a third horse along to help at the steep places. The extra horse would be hitched to the front of the other two when needed. It took about half adayto make the trip up.”
He attended the public schools on the Mountain through the tenth grade and then was graduated from Central High School in Chattanooga. He completed his studies in the field of chemical engineering at the University of Chattanooga. Most of his professional career was with Chattanooga Stamping and Enameling Company and the Double Cola Company from which he retired in 1979.
He grew up in a heavily wooded mountain community, he recalls, its relatively few residences, mostly in clusters, connected by not very good roads that turned and twisted to avoid the gullies between. Bridges came later for ordinary traffic, although the carline — the Dinkey — that served most of the mountaintop from the Point to the present shopping area traversed numerous trestles.
The Dinkey, even today, is a favorite topic of conversation with Mr. Barrows. He remembers all the stops, from the start at the Incline Station, past the old car barn site, southward on what is now Watauga Lane to the present shopping center (Clift Station, he says) and then eastwardly to what is now the Stonedge development where the Mountain Home, an early hotel, was located.
A spur left the route at the present intersection of Watauga and Scenic Highway, to go to Sunset Rock. The trolley made that trip — from the Incline to Sunset Rock and back — alternately with its other run.
The daily trip to Central High during the school term was quite a journey.
“You’d get the Dinkey to
the Incline Station, the Incline to the foot, a
The land on which his birthplace stood was purchased by his father from Alexander Hunt, who became a major landowner on the Mountain in its early days of its development. The elder Barrows lived with the Hunts for a time, later giving their name to his son, Irvin Hunt Barrows.
The Hunts’ home stood on
the present location of the Common, and was used as a military hospital during
the Civil War.
(Editor’s Note: Following are excerpts of a taped conversation between Jac Chambliss and William Raoul, both lifelong residents of Lookout Mountain. They were recorded by Chambliss on Nov. 17, 1985.)
J. C.: Were you born here on the Mountain?
W. R.: Yes, I was. I always thought I was born in the cabin which my father built in 1908 on our present property, a little bit north of the present house (538 West Brow Rd.), right on the edge of the bluff, but my sister Marian tells me that because it was so cold that winter, my parents had taken the Baxter cottage on Richardson Street and that was where I was born.
At any rate, my parents did live in the cabin from the time they were married until the present house was built in 1913. And then the cabin was used as a kindergarten. It had a long porch extending out over the bluff through the trees so you could get a better view. It had a big stone fireplace and a wooden shake roof. The framing was of logs with the bark still on them, which was a mistake. Someone told my father the beetles would get in them and they certainly did.
It was in the cabin that a plot to assassinate John Tyler was hatched. We didn’t like John for some reason at that time. He was rather troublesome so we decided we’d kill him by dropping a large rock down the chimney. We used to play a game called Skip-Squat in which we danced around the room. John had a habit of dashing into the fireplace and back out again, which we thought was an improper thing to do and we thought if we could get the rock to the roof and drop it at the precise moment he got in there — well, needless to say, that didn’t come about but it shows what tender sentiments children have toward each other.
The cabin was torn down after the present house was enlarged in 1923. It was an interesting place. It
had a convenience we don’t enjoy even today. Mother could order her groceries on the telephone and they would be delivered by street car on the carline that ran around Sunset Rock and over to the Point. It stopped below our house and they would put the groceries off and Mother would walk down and pick them up. The groceries came from S. T. and W. A. Dewees store [in Chattanoogaj.
Do you remember the kindergarten teacher, Miss Vaughan?
J. C.: Miss Vaughan, oh, yes.
My earliest recollections are of our house which was a big house there on the East Brow.
W. R.: Did your parents build that house?
J. C.: No, the house was built by the Strang family, I believe, in the 1880s. It was bought in 1911 by my grandfather [A. W.] Chambliss who in effect gave it to Mother and Dad.
W. R.: That was the year I was born.
J. C.: Yes. That was the year I moved to the Mountain. I was born in October 1910, down at Number 5 Bluff View [in Chattanooga] which was about a block away from my Grandfather Chambliss’ house. I was a very puny baby so Mother and Dad decided to move up here.
There was practically nothing but woods between my house on the East Brow and your house on West Brow. The carline ran right back of our house but this was not the same carline you were talking about . . .
One of the things I
remember was up at the Point they had these Negro guides, Warren Parker and ike
On the way to the Point, of course, they passed Lively’s Stand and old Cap Lively was there. Cap had a peg leg and he’d sit there on the wall with that peg leg sticking out and tell all the tourists he got that leg shot off in the battle of Shiloh or something like that. It wasn’t so, I understand.
One of the characters back in those days was Chief (of Police Bill) Stoner.
W. R.: Onetime I was on the street car with Billy — his son. They all had fiery red hair. A rough looking character got on the car and looked at Billy and said, ‘Hey, boy! Your name Stoner?” Billy said, "Yessir.” And the man said, “I thought so. I was in school with your daddy.”
J. C.: Dad said Mr. Stoner used to be the head bell hop at the hotel right at the top of the Incline [the Lookout Mountain Inn] and that he was really a character.
W. R.: Incidentally, that hotel was not just an ordinary country hotel. It was one of the really posh places of the Southeast.
J. C.: Yes. It was almost in a class with the Greenbrier.
W. R.: It was. It had more than 400 rooms. I don’t know what people did besides rock on the porch. Well, they walked around and looked at the sights, I guess.
J. C.: The train would bring them up there — the steam engine would pull them up there. The cars would stop down there at the top of the Incline and they’d go up the hill and stay at the hotel.
W. R.: Actually, they were pushed up by the locomotive; it would start up the mountain head first, but when they got around to the switchback, they’d head into that “ Y” and back the rest of the way up the Mountain.
J. C.: One of the things over near your house that always fascinated me was the Nottingham place which was just north of you. It had a swinging bridge that went across from the yard to this big rock. The bridge went across the street car tracks.
W. R: It was supported by discarded cables from the Incline. The woodwork on that bridge was restored many, many times.
J. C.: I remember how you and I back in the ’30s on a Sunday afternoon would go overto Sunset Rock and go down to the trails there that the CCC were building, and walk south from there.
I remember in 1917 or 1918, we had a very deep snow.
W. R.: It was 1917.
J. C.: It was about a foot deep and stayed on the ground for weeks. I remember too when the Incline burned.
W. R.: Itwasin 1919. For about a year, there was no Incline and we had to use the surface line. Why was it called the surface line? I’ve asked more people that and no one has ever told me.
W. R.: No, this was the main line. Theonebelow my house was a branch.
J. C.: Do you remember the car that ran along there? They called it “the Dinkey.”
W. R.: Yes, I remember it very well. It was a smaller car. It had only one truck, so if you stood on one end of it and jumped up and down you could rock it quite a bit. They tore that line down — I can remember they were tearing down the trestle below my house when I was seven years old, so that was in 1918. They tore down the wood trestles — of which there were five between Sunset Rock and the Point — and took up the rails for scrap metal. And that was the end of it.
Up until that time, that line had operated I guess mostly as a tourist attraction to take people from the Point over to Sunset Rock. It went clear around and ended a little beyond the Church of the Good Shepherd.
J. C.: Well, it turned off the main line right at the Hillman house which was at the intersection of West Brow Road and Watauga. Watauga of course is the main line of the old railroad.
W. R.: It is a remarkable thing how little commerce there was across the Mountain. You could cross the Mountain on Averill Street at that time and, of course, at Richardson Street further north, but south of Averill Street there was no street going through until you got to what we called The Stores but now is the shopping center.
There was no cross traffic because the community grew up in two orthree different places. It grew up at the head of the Incline and to a lesser extent where Scenic Flighway comes through and where the Ochs Flighway reaches the top of the Mountain. But those areas were separate and distinct from each other and there was no cross road between Averill Street and the stores.
It wasn’t until many years laterthat I realized that nearly all the lots and streets on the Mountain were laid out before 1887. Mr. D. P. Montague’s plat book shows all the subdivisions on the Mountain and nearly everything we have today was already laid out and platted and recorded at that time even though many of those streets were not opened until later and a few have not been opened even yet.
J. C.: Wasn’t McFarland an engineerthat plotted a lot of those streets — didn’t he live near where Alex Guerry lives now [112 Flooker St.]?
W. R.: Yes. And incidentally that is the only house on the Mountain built in the traditional Deep South fashion with a full height basement story
above ground, using brick, with the main story up one.
J. C.: Talking about transportation, I remember very well when we had very few automobiles and trucks and the coal that came up to our house was brought up in a big wagon with a team of mules. I think that one of the most difficult places for the mules was the hill there just above us at Linn’s Crossing. There they could move the wagon just a foot or so at a time and then the driver or helper would get out and put a block of wood or something under the wheels and let the team rest. I remember too how the automobiles used to come up East Brow and always shift gears when they were about in front of our house.
W. R.: The transition from horses and mules to trucks took place between 1913 and 1923. Fathertold me that for our original house, all the materials were brought up by teams but when we added to it in 1923, everything came by truck. It was a cruel haul for horses and mules. There was quite a bit of effort made to make people take better care of their animals.
J. C.: I can remember seeing people beat on them to make them go. The SPCA got started about then. Mrs. Richard Hardy was a leader.
W. R.: Until very recent years, there was a picture of a horse’s head painted on the concrete abutment of the railroad underpass as you started up the mountain, with a message something like, “Walk your horses, rest them often.”
J. C.: There used to be a watering trough down below where Hardwick Caldwell Jr. lives [411 East Brow],
W. R.: George Lynde built it. He was a son of Francis Lynde who taught at Baylor and wrote several books. Both George and his brother were excellent stone masons. They built the watering trough and together did the beautiful cut stonework in the house where their sister, Mary Ellen Lynde Thompson lived for many years on Cravens Terrace. It’s the best stonework anywhere around.
Walter Red, a lifelong resident, remembers a few:
“There were, for instance, Mr. and Mrs. William Stoner; he was the police chief and the fire chief and the man to call if one of us got stuck on some bluff-climbing effort.
“Mr. Roy Barrows was for mechanical repairs on wagons, bicycles and guns. Also, if you didn’t have Incline money, he would advance a ride.
“Dr. Leo Shumacker was our doctor for all our ailments from poison ivy to whooping cough, also for stitching up when required. Unfortunately in my case, he never seemed to have any novacaine for stitches at home. It seemed to me he always used more stitches than necessary. He always admired his neatness excessively, as I recall it. Mrs. Shumacker invariably knew of these feelings and came forth with cakes or cookies after the ordeal.”
Lula Lake was always a major attraction, one way or another, with the best rope swing of the area, although this was rivalled by the one over the creek and pond at Sitton’s Gulch, now called Cloudland Canyon.
“The bridge across the creek on the way to Lula Lake was a beauty. It was great to walk across but chancy with a car. For years the bridge was made out of pine poles laid parallel. You didn’t steer, you just got the front wheels lined up right and prayed.
“There was a story we heard about Lula Lake not having a bottom. In fact, a railroad car was supposed to have rolled off the old mine track into the lake and never found.
“This led Sam Lowe, Johnny Wright and myself into diving helmet research. We got a five-gallon lard can from Mr. Massey, cut and soldered on a face mask, a garden hose connection with some hose, and a bicycle pump for air. Fortunately, we could never decide who should be the diver, so the contraption never got a real test.
“Our field of exploration was rather limited as long as we had to cover it on foot. However, the time came when we were able to buy a Model-T Ford. The transaction cost $12. We had to sell a wood lathe and other valued possessions to amass this amount, but with it we got two engines which meant we had one in the process of being rebuilt at all times. We were so proud of this vehicle we decided to see if it would pass the safety inspection in Chattanooga. The only problem was the vehicle had no brakes. We decided to fake it by using the reverse pedal which will stop a Model-T so fast the fenders will fall off. We received a bonafide safety sticker for this wreck.
“We had no insurance. In fact, we didn’t even think of insurance in those days. But the car did lead to medical problems. When we had a flat, we had no jack to lift the car. Sam Lowe was our strongest lifter
so he would hold up the corner of the car while John Wright and I would change the wheel as quickly as possible. A summer of lifting gave Sam a hernia and he had to have some medical repair.”
After Sam’s recovery, he recalled, John Wright, “who was our in-house intellectual, discovered the Encyclopedia Britannica,” which told how to make gunpowder. “The formula was quite simple: salt petre, sulphur and lamp black. The druggist supplied the salt petre and sulphur, and we burned all the candles we could find to make the lamp black. We were doing fine until we found it worked well blowing up mailboxes. We got three before Chief Stoner decided that was enough. We had to spend the rest of the summer earning enough money to pay for the damages.
“The next summer John studied the Britannica’s section on wine making. We picked blackberries and used some crocks Mrs. Wright had. Sure enough, we made great blackberry wine. Nobody believed we had the real stuff until one of the mothers sampled some of the juice. That led to a quick confiscation of our stock.”
Not all the misfortunes befell boys, Red remembers. Most of the homes in the neighborhood of his home on Mitchell Drive — next door to the Mitchell home, now owned by Rick Montague, and close to
Elizabeth Thomas Brown’s recollections of moving from one address to another on
There the house stands today, renovations having changed its outward appearance somewhat, but not its basic form. It once again became her residence when she married William G. Brown in 1935; they lived there for 45 years before moving to Stonedge.
Elizabeth’s forebears, of English and Scottish extraction, came to the Chattanooga area in 1881 by way of Canada. They lived at Georgia Avenue and Fourth Street downtown for several years with a summer residence on Lookout. Her father died in 1918, she said, and she and her mother, Mrs. G. Fred Thomas, moved to the Mountain a year later.
During her childhood summers, she remembers, when families came up from town, the ladies were pretty well “set” for the hot weather, rarely venturing off the mountain, while the men had to go to work every day. They sometimes took the buggy, although many were accustomed to walking down the side of the Mountain “on a trail back of Ragon Hill” to St. Elmo where they caught a street car into town.
Sam Lowe’s house, which was on the site now occupied by the Frank Hutcheson home — had cisterns to collect rain water for household use.
“We had an unusually exciting day once when Mary King Oehmig fell into the cistern at the Lowe’s. Mary didn’t think it was too notable, but it surely led to getting the cistern filled in.
“A major piece of fun back then was to run across the trolley trestle from the station at my house across the ravine over the Hollis Caldwell property — which is now Sara and Jim Glascock’s place. This took skill and a little bit of craziness. Mr. Gross (the trolley driver) always went a little slower along there and made lots of noise ringing the Dinkey’s bell.”
But what he always liked best, he said, was the arrival of the “summer people,” not only for the seasonal return of close friends but also for the general pickup it brought in various activities. “I liked it because I was chief bell ringer at the old Chapel, now the Church of the Good Shepherd. I could sell them (the newly arrived) turns at pulling the bell rope. Every pull was worth a nickel. Unfortunately, Miss Ruby Carter brought this enterprise to a close as my take from what was supposed to go to the Sunday School collection got to be bigger than the Lord’s.”
Angels were needed for more than just protective and rehabilitative services.
Occasionally,
she said, they would go by buggy to Summertown on
“I learned to drive a car in Florida, one winter in Lakeland when my brother, Lavens, was teaching there,” Elizabeth recalled. ‘‘I was eight years old!” No mention was made of how extensively she followed up on that new achievement after returning to Lookout Mountain.
“I went to school, beginning in the late part of the first grade,” she said, ‘‘along with Norinne Hickman, Carolyn Wilson Hunt, Harold Friedman, William
Family decisions to "move to the Mountain" sometimes were long considered, sometimes almost precipitous. The journal of Mrs. Thomas C. Ervin Sr., as transcribed by her great-grandson, John Cassian Ford, provides an example.
Ervin and his family came to Chattanooga from Rockwood, TN, in 1880 for him to enter a dry goods business with D. B. Loveman. He ‘‘succeeded well,” Mrs. Ervin wrote, and ‘‘we lived on McCallie Avenue for sometime. One day I noticed that the lots on Lookout were to be sold at a public sale — without having the slightest idea that he would pay attention to my suggestion I proposed that he should attend the sale. To my utter astonishment he did and bought six of the prettiest lots on the Eastern brow of the mountain. He brought me up to look at the one on which he planned to build. It was a beautiful lot — on the brow exactly in front of the hill on which the beautiful old Lookout Inn once stood (to the west of the present Incline station).
‘‘When I looked at this lot with its palasade back
Raoul, Jac Chambliss and Ben Fulgum.
‘‘This school was super! I remember the professor from the business school coming up one day a week to teach us penmanship. We held this class, all grades together in the upstairs auditorium. This room was also used for plays, chapel and some classes. To me, all the teachers were wonderful.”
Summertime recreation included tennis, horseback riding and annual stays at Camp Nakanawa near Crossville. But her most vivid memory? It was of sitting on the porch of their Chattanooga home when she was about five, watching and listening to what was going on at the “glamorous tea dances” at Judge Nathan Bachman’s house next door.
—
entirely too close for little feet, I told him I would never have a peaceful
night’s sleep for dreaming my little ones might go over those awful cliffs.’ He
had a man to go and put a strong fence entirely around the brow, riveted into
the rock. . . [Ford says portions of the fence still exist beneath Dr. Jesse
Armstrong’s residence ]. . . We finally decided that
the above lot was far too dangerous for children so we decided to build on the
last lot. . . [about 1887, presently next to
Ervin moved to New York in
the early 1890s, after fire had destroyed his mercantile business, but Mrs.
Ervin wrote that “I knew N.Y. was no place to raise five little children with
moderate means. So I let him go without us, and I reared my children in the
sweet fresh air and environments of old Lookout.” Not that it was always
peaceful, of course. An entry by Mrs. Ervin’s daughter, Margaret Hamilton, in
her own diary of
Trains
from
Stories handed down in the Maclellan family spell out what was involved in at least one circumstance.
It began with the decision of Morgan Llewellyn, a prominent Chattanooga industrialist, to escape the summer heat of the valley by building a home on Lookout. He chose a hill site near the present intersection of Lula Lake and McFarland roads for the construction of a beautiful Victorian style yellow and white clapboard house, completed just about the beginning of the last decade of the 19th Century. The house was distinguished by a turret and a porch that ran half way around it. Down the slope was an orchard that extended to Lula Lake Road. An ample supply of water came from an artesian well on the property.
The Llewellyn daughters, Cora and Leila, spent a great deal of their time playing among the giant rock formations to the east toward the mountain bluff, which contemporaries referred to as “the rock city,” similar to the later and better known commercial development.
In 1901, both young ladies
participated in the May festival in
About this time, two young
men began their regular callson the sisters. Robert Jardine Maclellan and
Webster Colburn would ride up the Incline on Sundays, and Cora and “Toots” (as
her father called her) would go over in a surrey with a fringed top to meet
them and bring them home to spend the day. Sometimes there would be a dinner at
home, sometimes a picnic would be organized for the
not too distant
On Nov. 22, 1905, a double wedding in the Second Presbyterian Church united Cora and Rob, Leila and Web. Their dresses were made by “Miss Jo” at Lovemans, a familiar footnote to weddings for a generation longer. She worked at the store until 1937.
The ceremony was set for 8:30 a.m. so that the couples could meet noontime train schedules. The Colburns were off to St. Louis for permanent residence (they returned to Lookout Mountain in the 30s), and the Maclellans left for a Niagara Falls honeymoon. Fifty years later, the two had a joint celebration of their golden anniversary.
Mr. Llewellyn sold his mountain home in 1913 for $1,300 including the surrounding land. After World War II the unkept house sold for $30,000, not including the orchard land down to Lula Lake Road which was purchased for development as a shopping center. Later the house itself was torn down to permit construction of apartments.
My children,” says Martha
Smallwood Milligan, “should be grateful they did not
grow up on the Mountain, as I did.”
Lest the sentiment diminish her reputation as one of the community’s foremost boosters, she hastens to explain:
“You see, I knew about youthful adventuresome possibilities up here — I had pushed most of them to the limit in my time — and I would have never let them out of my sight, and all of us would have been miserable.
Mrs. Milligan, best known as Tootsie, is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. L. C. Smallwood, both prominent figures in the growth and development of Lookout Mountain during the '20s and ’30s. Her marriage to Harry Milligan, who coached and taught at several of the area’s preparatory schools for boys, took her away for a number of years. His retirement from The McCallie School brought them back, and she has continued to maintain her home here following his death.
Her father was president
of the L. C. Smallwood Construction Company which handled many of the major
building contracts of that era, particularly railroad trestles and highway
bridges. In 1930, the firm removed the old wooden bridge on the highway over
the Incline Railway tracks and replaced it with a concrete structure. In 1930
and ’31, he laid out and built the roads throughout
the Fairyland section, aswell as the stone entrance which still stands on
The Smallwood Company built “Witches’ Cabin” near the back of Rock City for Z. C. Patten and constructed the mountain’s first swimming pool at the Pattens’ West Brow home.
Among its other projects on the Mountain were the final preparation of the first miniature golf course at Fairyland Club, the first concrete bridge across the gulch east of the Church of the Good Shepherd in the Natural Bridge area, and the first section of the Presbyterian Church at its present site.
Mrs. Smallwood, a native of Rome, Ga., remembers spending time with her uncle and aunt, Col. and Mrs. Standifer Peak of Missionary Ridge, in her childhood. The visits always included picnics at Umbrella Rock, reached by the long trolley ride from the Ridge to a downtown connection with the St. Elmo line which came up the Mountain via the Incline.
“My explorations of the Mountain began in 1923,” Tootsie recalls. “The family rented an old farm house on the corner of Lula Lake Road and McFarland Lane, a site presently occupied by the Methodist Church. The house set well back from the road and behind it was a beautiful apple orchard and vegetable garden.
“On the east side of Lula Lake Road, there was a solidly wooded area all the way to the bluff. There was a path of sorts — if you could find it — that led to a ‘rock city’ in its pristine state.
“Another beautiful picnic site was up McFarland Lane to where a path leads off to the left, today known as Whitt Road. It led to a beautiful sweet-water spring bubbling out of the ground at the base of a big oak tree.
“There were no paved roads and the upper part of McFarland was a very bumpy ride in a wagon or maybe a Model-T. It connected with an even rockier road leading to Jackson Hill.
“We decided we liked the Mountain so much that my father built us a house on Bragg Avenue in 1926. Because we had such a short time in which to relinquish our home in Chattanooga Valley to its purchaser, my father pulled together all the work crews in his construction firm and built the house, from the foundation up, in 28 days. Mr. John Chambliss, who didn’t believe it could be done, used to bring a chair to the side of the street in front of the house to watch the progress.”
A permanent residence meant that “my real adventures had begun.” The community population doubled in the summer and there were “exciting things to do — visitors coming to see relatives, luncheons, picnics, hikes to Umbrella Rock. On the way there, incidentally, you always threw a rock at one of the ‘Yankee’ monuments. I guess that’s one reason they have all those nice grassy spaces in the Park now — no rocks.
“Mr. Linn had a photo shop at the Point and that was all there was to what we know today as Point Park. There were no nice paved paths or steps —just shelves of rocks and fallen trees to climb over. But who cared? For a 13-year-old, life was glorious with few obstances.
“My great aunt who lived on the family farm at the foot of Red Mountain, had told us of the days the Cherokee Indians inhabited this part of the world, about how they guarded the waterways and overland trails around the foot of the Mountain, and how they signaled to each other across the valley to Raccoon or Elder or Signal Mountain.”
That was enough of an inspiration for her and her good friend Rosine Raoul to plan an experiment. They enlisted the aid of Mary Elder (Bickerstaff) who lived on Elder Mountain. The time was set for the following Saturday which dawned clear, cool and windy, a typical November day.
Tootsie remembers other experiences, “some breathtaking, exciting, even stupid. But in those brave and challenging years, what was stupid, really?
“We climbed the water tower — the metal one built in the late ’20s — one Halloween night and got caught by Chief (William) Stoner, but our parents never let on they knew about it. I guess they were too glad we got down safely. It was the thing to do to leave your initials written at the top. I was dumb enough to climb the thing, but smart enough not to put my name there.
“Another time, some of us went over the double bluff near the Point by sliding down an old fire hose we had found discarded nearby. That was about where Chris Gilley lives now (721 East Brow Road). We didn't think about it going down but when we got to the bottom, we had no way to get back except to skirt the bluff to the Incline tracks and climb them to the top.
“It was a great time.”
The signal flag at each terminus was to be abed sheet, and Tootsiewasto provide the one forthis end of the line.
“There was no problem snitching a sheet. Saturday was sheet-changing day at our house. As the beds were stripped, the sheets were stacked at the top of the stairs to be taken later to the washroom.”
Tootsie met Rosine at the entrance to the Point as planned. They ran so fast to the Point that they didn't even take time to throw the traditional rock at the Yankee monument. As they looked toward Elder, they could make out Mary’s house, but no flag.
“We unfurled ours, lifting it as high as possible — then watching it sail off in the general direction of St. Elmo. The imps of Satan had ridden in on a thunderous gust of wind, snatched our signal flag out of our hands, hissing and laughing at us as they disappeared with it over the East Brow.
“Mary called at lunchtime. She hadn’t seen a thing and wanted to know what had happened. But it was too dangerous to talk with the family around so we had to leave it for school on Monday.”
It isn’t often that a pony just gets swallowed up by the earth. Hugh Maclellan remembers that it almost happened to his sturdy childhood steed, Spot.
The R. J. Maclellans had
been
Perhaps still unaccustomed to his new grazing area, Spot one day wandered too close to the stone ledge, lost his footing and fell into a deep crevasse. Firemen were called to help. They raised the pony to his feet and led him through the boulders and back to the top, bruised and skinned but with no bones broken.
The Maclellan home was the site of Col. James A. Whiteside’s first summer residence built in the 1850s. That house burned and was replaced late in the century, and it is believed that it was the structure R. J. Maclellan bought from Tom Whiteside. It was a rough hewn brown stained clapboard structure with a large porch facing the city. Its original floor beams support the porch on the present house.
Of a series of summer
residences he recalls, Hugh ranks the Crandall home, which the Maclellans
rented, as a favorite. It stood on the site of the present Church of the Good
Shepherd, and was backed by an area made for exploration, encompassing such
features as Telephone Rock,
Hugh also recalls a near
tragedy that occurred soon after they had moved to East Brow. A car came
screeching down the street, out of control with its brakes gone. It bounded
across
But the family memories also include delightful moments of dances at the Little Club, Fairyland Club and the Patio at the Lookout Mountain Hotel. It was there, Charlotte Fowler Maclellan recalls, that she once won a munificent prize for being a partner in the best dancing team. Not caring to dance himself, she said, ‘‘Hugh pawned me off on Bob Michaels, his Cornell roommate.” Each couple present had put 25 cents in the pot to be awarded to the pair getting the most applause as the best dancers. “I’m afraid Bob and I had an unfair advantage,” she says. Hugh and his friends “clapped and stomped until we won!”
The prize? It was $12.50, not bad for Depression days.
In 1930
This will not be factual or inclusive. It will be memory filtered through rose-colored glasses. “The Sporting Life” includes changing classes, countywide academic contests, library responsibility rewards, the entire school producing an operetta, Friday night 100 movies, Sunday nights at Christian Endeavor.
It all involved a closely knit group. On afternoons and weekends we merely expanded to include buddies unfortunate enough to have to go to school downtown. In fact, Anne Pickard McCarry’s house, with her highly respected cook Mamie chaperoning, was a favorite place to gather.
Sports activities were constant and varied. Our group was so small, there was no danger of being left out. The question was, could you survive? It was no place for a spectator sportsman.
You walked to school as early as possible. We girls hastened to the lower playground beyond the library where we dangled upside down, flipped or chinned on the acting bar. Then we collected more blisters trying to see how many bars we could skip swinging along the parallel ladder. About that timethe boys, who had been snagging passes or kicking the football on the upper yard, arrived to show off their superior athletic skills.
By afternoon, Coach Al Phillips, up from UC, had the boys well in hand for games or scrimmages. We girls marvelled as big Dyer Butterfield, our champion mathematician, sent a long pass down to champion speller Charlie Coffey, who in turn received a mean tackle from tough Captain Bruce Bishop or tall Tom Dooley. We had a darn good backfield of boys who grew big early.
We girls formed the
cheering squad: "
Neil Thomas was a small center who played as well as he sang lead in the operetta. Marvin Saunders and Spears McAllester were small but fast. So was the ever cheerful Sam Smartt.
On weekends, girlsjoined fortouch football, long before the Kennedys ever thought of it. We played in the streets. No wonder we didn’t look too good “dressed up.”
Some afternoons we shook
Peggy Thatcher Maupin’s apple tree en route to
Many afternoons we headed for the Incline sidewalks to play a splendid game of tin can hockey. You had to bring your own skates and key, a broom handle and tough shins. As I recall, it was every man for himself. The day was capped by the fearless Bunt Robertson, Bruce Bishop and Dyer Butterfield skating down the Newell Sanders’ steep driveway. This lovely old home, close to the Incline and once owned by Norinne Hickman’s grandfather, has been demolished.
Some Saturdays, Ashley
Purse, Guy King, Lu Glascock Norman and I skated from the
More restful afternoons were spent in getting glorious rides on Susan Chambliss Irvine’s horses. The Chambliss barn held about four horses and one cow. Susan wore handsome jodhpurs and boots; we were welcome to select any of her brothers’ castoffs in the hall chest. Sometimes we even dressed up in Mrs. Chambliss’ attic treasures and rode sidesaddle.
Another favorite sport was
to meet at
Real effort went into the girls’ basketball team. We had a gorgeous coach, Miss Nancy Lea, now Mrs.
The court was in three sections — for guards, centers and forwards — and we could play only in our own segment. Tall Donna Gault Borden was jumping center; Lu Glascock Norman, Miriam Ezell Downey and I played running center. Susan C. Irvine and Garnette Stoner Rice were forwards. Elizabeth Prater Rather, Sally Collins Kennedy and Portia Miller Uren were guards.
Miss Lea tried very hard, we tried very hard, and our boys coached and cajoled. We still lost handily to Notre Dame and the new venture, Mrs. Gaston
Raoul’s
love, the
We played much better
softball. Our varsity football boys and Nicky Senter’s parents’ house man,
beloved Leon, determined that we would win something. Lu and Miriam ran like
the wind; I ran excitedly, completely omitting second base on my one and only
homerun. Garnette Rice and Susan Irvine were good basemen. Despite all these
virtues, I confess,
But we sports played it
out to the fullest. And where better than on
l^lichard Thatcher Jr., who says that to this day his singing is so terrible his family will not let him join in home choruses of "Happy Birthday,” can well remember one trip downtown he made as a member of the Lookout Mountain School glee club.
WDOD, one of
“We all gathered in the studio with our parents looking on proudly through the plate glass windows,” he said. “We were doing well with ‘Silent Night,’ until the only boy who had a good voice misbehaved. This caused all the boys to quit singing to laugh. The girls tried to keep straight faces to keep the program going. I don’t know how we sounded over the radio, but I do know we got very strong reprimands from our parents when the program ended.”
Oh, yes, he recalls, “I was one of the singers because Father was one of the parents who offered to drive us to the studio.”
The Thatcher family moved
to the Mountain in the spring of 1922, he said, to
“One of my earliest
memories was of 'Cap' Lively, a Confederate veteran who lived between the
Incline and
“Cap had a wooden leg and a beard and periodically he used to hobble to the Incline and purchase a bottle of castor oil. It took both my parents sitting on me and holding my nose to get a spoonful of that dreaded medicine down me. To my amazement, Cap Lively would drink down the whole bottle of castor oil at one time with only a small amount staying on his beard.”
Most small boys of that time had chores to take care of, and one of Dick’s was to walk across the street to the Newell Anderson house to get milk.
“The
“By then the house was in flames. Chief W. I. Stoner only had an antiquated fire engine to respond with. At that time there were no fire mains orfire plugs, so there was little they could do to extinguish a fire of any size.
"A call was made to
the
"Both the Whitman
house and the
Fairyland in the '50s was a blur of children and dogs, as Mary Bishop remembers it.
The family moved to the Mountain in 1951 when her husband, Dr. W. R. Bishop, was named medical director of the Provident Life and Accident Insurance Co. The previous nine years he had been an Army doctor and they had lived in seven states. “I longed to settle down somewhere and establish some roots,” she says.
They came to
The location proved a
paradise for her three children. On her block alone, there were 22 youngsters:
“3 Healys, 3 Websters, 3 Steeles, 3 Hargraves, 2
There were just about as many dogs as children and she learned the names of them all:
“There was Dandy Douglas, a black and white bird dog; Christy Steele, a Boxer; Jerry and Penny Healy, both Airedales; Rover Schoolfield Hargrave, just a dog (this one caused a lot of trouble, was always being “put up’ for biting the children), Duchess
Webster, a three-legged German police dog who could out-run all the dogs in the neighborhood and even some cars; Lassie and Jim-Buck Quick, sweet dogs, one a Collie and the other a Weimaraner; Lady Keyser, a Collie; Big Ox Hayes, a Bassett hound; Snoopsie Unruh, a half-a-dog-high-and-two-dogs-long Dachshund; Sport Willett, a white bird dog; Hau-Hau Bishop, a Chihuahua; and Tiger King Bishop, a Spitz.
“When all these dogs got together, you couldn’t tell the good dogs from the bad ones.”
In the summer, one major occupation was putting on plays written by the children as they thought
In Ann Pickard McCarry's
memory, swimming stands out as the chief summer attraction for
As a matter of fact, she can remember only three on the Mountain at that time: the one at the J. B. Pound home where Stonedge is now, the one at the Hunt Club, and the one at the Z. C. Patten home on West Brow. Obviously, they were not open to everyone every day.
But, she says, that barrier was partly broken through by Mr. Patten’s own butler, Chester, who would personally invite the eight, nine and ten-year-old children of the neighborhood to swim in the Patten pool under the watchful eye of Bruce Bishop, pressed into service as a lifeguard.
The love of swimming also brought about one of her life’s most embarrassing moments. In later years, after the Fairyland Club pool became available, she was enjoying the water and the company while turned out in a stunning two-piece white suit. It was made of a rubberized material — at that time a very popular fabric for such outfits — which to her intense discomfiture, began to split as she started a dive. Either she doesn’t remember, or doesn’t care to recall, the ultimate outcome of the incident.
rransfers of property on
they should be written, and acted out asthe principals believed they should be.
A memorable production was “Jack and the Beanstalk” in which Dandy Douglas, the properly marked bird dog appeared as a black and white cow. A kudzu vine doubled as the beanstalk and was pulled to the balcony by an invisible wire as it grew.
“The Confederates and the Indians,” a switch if ever there was one, took place in the rocks on Wood Nymph Trail. Most of the Confederates had to wear blue McCallie uniforms, the need for gray notwithstanding.
Her earliest recollection of her childhood home on Hooker and Lee streets near the Incline, isthatof a nurse taking herto roller skate at the station orto play “Fox and Hounds” at Point Park. The chant of the tourist guide, “Show you ’roun the Park” — for 25 cents, incidentally — still lingers in her ears.
Every child had a bike, of
course, and
Massey’s Store was the
only one close enough to count for every day staples, but clothes had to be
purchased downtown. She says that trunk showings by the
The Little Club on
Mrs. McCarry attended
A well documented family
story is told about ownership of the
Lavens M. Thomas, a lawyer with his brother
W. G. M. Thomas in the
firm of Thomas and Thomas, for many years town
attorneys for
One day in 1898 she
appeared at Mr. Thomas’ office and told him she did not have the money at hand
to pay him for his legal services. But, she said, she did own a number of lots
on
With that, she showed him a map of the platted lots and told him he might have his choice.
He said he walked around inspecting various lots and finally chose the Brow property on which the Morrows now live, and the title was transferred. Later on, he acquired the lots where the Don Jensens and the Rob Healys presently have their homes.
At that time, the surface car track ran through the front yards of all three lots.
Two
William Emerson Brock III, who preferred to be known as Bill in public office, entered the political lists in 1962 with his successful race for the U.S. House. Then 30, he was a vice president of the family firm, Brock Candy Co., and already prominent in Young
Republican circles at the state and national levels. He was re-elected three times before announcing for the U.S. Senate in 1970, defeating a veteran Democrat, Albert Gore, that fall. As he had been throughout his House years, he was a staunch supporter of his party’s national leadership and policies, frequently chosen as a congressional spokesman for the White House on substantive issues. Onemajortaskwasthe compilation of a major study of the causes and possible cures of the campus unrest of that era. After loss of his bid for re-election in 1976, Mr. Brock was named Republican National Chairman. In ensuing years, he was given credit for greatly strengthening the party through his reorganizational efforts. President Reagan appointed him special trade representative with ambassadorial rank in 1981, and at the start of a second term, advanced him to the Cabinet as Secretary of Labor.
Estes Kefauver, a native
of
Like most sections of the
country prior to the ratification of the 19th Amendment to the U.S.
Constitution,
There were, however, feminine voices already being raised to the contrary, among them that of Miss Margaret Hamilton Ervin, later Mrs. Charles Ford Sr. She was to become a recognized leader in the women’s suffrage movement at local, state and national levels.
In an interview printed in The Chattanooga Times in 1913, she said she could not remember “when I did not believe in suffrage.’’ She did recall, however, almost the moment that interest reached the point of active participation.
She and a young woman
companion were waiting for the Incline car to take them to their day’s work in
Although there was in the schools she had attended “a fair and equal crediting of the work of both boys and girls,” she said, she had found in the business world “a difference in the rating — man’s labor and man’s word were held at a higher price and favor than a woman’s.”
Advocacy, of course, was nothing new for Miss Ervin. She had graduated in 1914 from the Chattanooga College of Law, the only woman in a class of 70 and among the very first of her sex to become an attorney in the state.
One of her first major cases involved travelling by train over the state, taking depositions from women willing to swear that use of a ladies’ tonic made by the Chattanooga Medicine Company was not injurious to their health. The company won the case.
Another was that of a minister’s 18-year-old son who killed a policeman in an exchange of gunfire following a minor altercation. Feelings ran high; six officers had been shot in the past six months. Older attorneys predicted a certain conviction but her presentation of the defense was so well handled that the jury came in with a “not guilty” verdict.
Besides actively pursuing her interest in the suffrage cause, Miss Ervin was active as well on behalf of other reform legislation, such as repeal of the “married woman’s disability act.” Under its provisions, a married woman’s right to hold property had been severely limited, even involving her own clothing.
She became the organizer
of suffrage supporters in
When at last the Tennessee
Legislature in 1917 approved the bill granting women the right to vote, Governor
Rye signed the measure — appropriately enough —with a gold pen once owned by
Miss Ervin’s grandfather, Dr. J. W. Wester, a member of the legislature from
1841 to 1861.
MRS. STONER AND A GROUP OF HER CHILDREN
The name of Stoner h as to
rank right at th e top of any list of
William I. Stoner was for many years chief of the community’s fire department, the town marshal, its tax collector and finally its police chief — in short, sort of its chief executive, one newspaper report called him. He was considered the gruff nemesis of miscreants when necessary but also the guardian angel for youngsters in any sort of trouble. Chief Stoner was the first to be called on in any emergency.
But which Stoner was once
termed “the most valuable asset
It was Mrs. Stoner, that’s who.
The description was that
of Mrs. Francis Walton, quoted in a story in The Chattanooga News of
“I consider Mrs. Stoner
one of the most remarkable persons I have ever known,” Mrs. John A. Chambliss
told the reporter. “She is a genius with babies. I believe her marvellous
poise, her confidence and her wonderful vitality have had as much to do with
her success as her expert knowledge.” Ethel Harrison Stoner was a native of
In 1912, at the bidding of
doctors familiar with her skills, she came to
On the mountain, contemporaries recalled, there was a saying, “Call Mrs. Stoner” when a child fell ill. She responded with the “tender loving care” that produced remarkable results. The right kinds of food and regular hours of rest, she said, are the essentials of her “method” of care, disclaiming any miraculous powers of healing.
When she had children of
her own, she said, she feared she would have to give up nursing the children of
other mothers. But after a time, “I found that if I couldn’t leave home, they
would bring their babies to me at my home.” As a result, the Stoner house soon
had a nursery room with beds sufficient to care for four or five small patients
at one time. And one summer, she related, she prepared food by special formulas
for several other children in
It is small wonder that one mother, grateful for the care given her child, said simply, “I think she is one of the most wonderful women in the world.”
Mrs. Stoner died in 1940, her husband in 1948.
In 1936, John Clark built
his house on
The
One particularly popular
plan he followed was for a basic one-floor ranch style which permitted many
variations but all of which produced a very attractive and livable dwelling. No
building was too large or too small from him to contract. One of the more
impressive homes he worked on was that of Mrs. Joe Davenport at the corner of
Even after his sense of
sight began to falter, he kept working as long as he could. His sense of touch
was perfect and he could feel such details as the correct alignment of a door.
The last two homes he built were on
Sam Robinson, a close
friend of the
“Once at the filling station, when he wasn’t busy, John was sitting on a wooden Coca-Cola case, whittling as usual. He must have finished the stick he was cutting on and, rather than getting another, he began whittling away on the Coke case,” Sam said.
“He was whittling and talking, paying about as much attention to one as to the other, when suddenly the box collapsed under him. Without noticing, he had just whittled right through the board.”
Sam said John was not hurt and just laughed about it. The only reported reaction was a muttered comment, something about “musta cut that one a little too close.”
Residents of
The story is told of one young man who, in the days of Prohibition, was sent downtown to pick up a large quantity of whiskey. He loaded it in his car and returned home. He parked outside and went into the house. He came out just in time to see his car driven away by thieves he couldn’t report because of the illegal bottled goods in the back.
It was a bad day, all
around.
Garden
Club of
To an impressive list ot essential activities — site beautification, conservation, the fine art of flower arranging among others — the Garden Club of Lookout Mountain has added a particular requisite for a long-lived and productive association. It is, in one word, luncheon.
Sara Glascock, a former president, says that the club made every effort to comply with the suggestion of the Garden Club of America, the national organization of 186 member clubs, to “conserve energy, expense and calories” during the crunch a few years ago by serving light refreshments only. “Attendance at meetings fell off drastically,” she said. The local club took a firm stand, declaring in effect, “We will walk to meetings, save tin cans, bind newspapers, and drive at 55, but lunch we cannot sacrifice.”
Since that time, four or five members combine resources to entertain the club in its monthly meetings. “ Perhaps it is this desire to fete our fellow members which helps the club tick along in such a delightful way,” she said.
The Garden Club of Lookout Mountain was organized in 1917, and has been involved ever since in projects pertinent to its central purpose: “To improve our lovely mountain.” The list is long and varied.
Among the most extensive in recent years was undertaken in the late 1960s when it led the community effort to remodel the shopping center. A “Cruise Ball” at Fairyland Club helped raise funds for improving the storefronts and curb treatment in the business area.
Interest in civic improvement continued as the club financed the construction of a retaining wall at the baseball field and the landscaping of the area in front of the firehall. More recently, money was contributed to the town for planting trees at the Tot Lot in the Common.
Among the more effective conservative efforts was a campaign waged by Club Conservation Chairman Adele Hampton to raise money for the purchase of mountainside property where a residential subdivision was planned. The property was turned over to the National Park Service for posterity.
Somewhat less dramatic but more charming was the preservation of a kitchen garden at the Cravens House, a Civil War landmark.
Many of the club's
projects, along with individual members, have been cited for awards by regional
and national organizations. Mr. and Mrs. Cartter Patten received the Amy Angell
Collier Montague Medal for their efforts on behalf of preserving the
The Zone IX Conservation
Award, covering the activities of 17 GCA clubs in
In 1979, the club was
given the Founders Fund Award by GCA, on the basis it
would make possible the construction of a boardwalk for the handicapped at
Reflection Riding. The club’s assistance at the woodland preserve has also
included professionally planned landscaping and other monetary support for the
The battle against kudzu has been waged for years without notable success but with unflagging determination.
Presidents of the club are listed as follows with the year of election of each:
Mrs. Lucius Mansfield, 1916; Mrs. A. C. Willingham, 1919; Mrs. Lucius Mansfield, 1920; Mrs. Carl White, 1922; Mrs. W. B. Miller, 1924; Mrs. Chester Richmond, 1926; Mrs. Morrow Chamberlain, 1927; Mrs. T. H. McClure, 1929; Mrs. J. P. Hoskins, 1932; Mrs. Joseph W. Johnson, 1935; Mrs. Alfred Thatcher, 1936; Mrs. Joseph Burr, 1937; Mrs. T. H. McClure, 1938; Mrs. Mark Morrison, 1940; Mrs. Edwin Bethel, 1942; Mrs. A. C. Willingham, 1943; Mrs. Charles D. Little, 1944; Mrs. George R. West Jr., 1946; Mrs. Murray Raney, 1950; Mrs. Harold Smartt, 1952; Mrs. Cecil Newell, 1954; Mrs. Donald Munson, 1955; Mrs. E. Y. Chapin Jr., 1956; Mrs. Robert S. Killebrew, 1957; Mrs. Halbert Law, 1958; Mrs. W. D. Pettway, 1960; Mrs. Will Harris, 1962; Mrs. J. P. W. Brown, 1964; Mrs. William McGinness, 1966; Mrs. Richard H. Houck, 1968; Mrs. Richard C. Thatcher Jr., 1970; Mrs. W. Lane Verlenden, 1972; Mrs. Donald M. Ferguson, 1974; Mrs. John B. Stout, 1975; Mrs. Sidney McCabe, 1977; Mrs. James C. Glascock, 1978; Mrs. Joseph Thatcher, 1979; Mrs. J. Ralston Wells, 1981; Mrs. Phil B. Whitaker, 1982; Mrs. Gordon L. Davenport; 1983; Mrs. Robert M. Davenport, 1984; Mrs. Henry T. Bryan III, 1985.
If a member istardy, she
is subject to aten-cent fine; if she doesn’t show up at all without having
notified the hostess in advance, she may have to part with a whole quarter.
One hesitates to say such penalties are enough to guarantee any club an active and loyal membership over a span of 65 years. But apparently it helps.
The Lookout Mountain Book Club held its first meeting in January 1921. It is still going strong with second generation members on its rolls. At least some of the ladies credit the rules governing fines and penalties with having helped provide organizational bonds strong enough to keep up the club’s well-nigh perfect record of holding the regular twice-monthly meetings as scheduled. Records indicate fewer than five have been missed since the club began.
The late Mrs. John A. Chambliss Sr., a charter member and first president, supported that belief in a 1971 interview with Kitty McDonald of the Chattanooga News-Free Press. On the occasion of the club’s 50th anniversary, she said of the club’s record of longevity:
“I think it is because, in the beginning, we set down definite rules. In the earliest days, the president always sat with a gavel. If there were undue chatter during book discussion, the president hit sharply with the gavel.
“We had fines, too,” she said, mentioning those covering attendance, and adding: “During the Depression years, a hostess was also fined it she had more than the simplest of refreshments.”
Actually, members say, the fines have rarely been necessary, as the club’s treasury balance of a few dollars would bear out. More likely, it is the club’s serious purpose —that of having each member read 22 chosen books a year and discuss them with a critical eye in open meetings — that is at the heart of its long life.
In addition to the comments on the books, members are also called upon to relate some item of current interest, gleaned from reading or personal experience. Most are seriously informative, some enliven the meeting with humor. In the early ’70s, one relator warned those with an interest in touring that filling stations were beginning to charge for road maps rather than giving them away free. And Kitty McDonald was told that on one occasion, the minutes reflected the fact that at the previous meeting, the business at hand was “unceremoniously interrupted” when it was found that one member “had worn her shoes on the wrong feet.”
Charter members are listed as Mrs. John A. Chambliss, Mrs. McDevitt, Mrs. W. F. Smith, Mrs. Gardner Bright, Mrs. James W. Tyler, Mrs. Gaston Raoul, Mrs. T. F. McFarland, Mrs. Leopold Shumacker, Mrs. A. T. Waters, Mrs. Hollis Caldwell, Mrs. Charles Wesley, Mrs. B. S. Annis, Mrs. Karl B. Watson, Mrs. J. E. Annis, Miss Sallie Marshall, Mrs. James Glascock, Elizabeth Porter, Mrs. Wolverton, Mrs. L. P. Smith, Mrs. J. H. Wheelock, Mrs. George Linn, Mrs. J. H. Wilson, Mrs. Olney and Mrs. J. Edmund Smartt.
Available records show that the following have served as president, many more than once, over the years: Mrs. Chambliss, Mrs. Harvey Wilson, Mrs. Leopold Shumacker, Mrs. T. H. McFarland, Mrs. Edmund Smartt, Mrs. J. W. Tyler, Mrs. L. B. Porter, Mrs. K. B. Watson, Mrs. Gaston Raoul, Mrs. C. W. Edmondson, Mrs. W. F. Smith, Mrs. E. H. Rolston, Mrs. George Linn, Mrs. J. W. Persinger, Mrs. A. T. Waters, Mrs. M. S. Red, Mrs. J. M. Alexander, Miss Sallie Marshall, Mrs. Hollis Caldwell, Mrs. Gardner Bright, Mrs. Leon Smith, Mrs. Charles Coffey, Mrs. James Glascock, Mrs. Guy King, Mrs. Carter Paden, Mrs. William Martin, Mrs. John Clark, Mrs. William H. Bennett, Mrs. Fred Temple, Mrs. C. W. Joiner, Mrs. Joe Lane, Mrs. Albert Taber, Mrs. Kyle Holley, Miss Elizabeth Allen, Mrs. J. Moore Patton, Mrs. Claude Joiner, Mrs. William G. Brown, Mrs. Harry Etheridge, Mrs. Paul A. Christensen, Mrs. Ted Davis, Mrs. Marshall Goree and May Lytle.
Among the books which, year after year, have been voted as being the “best” for that period are these:
“Oil for the Lamps of
The Lookout Mountain Beautiful Garden Club, one of the most active in the community, was organized in 1918. It became affiliated with the Tennessee Federation of Garden Clubs in 1929.
The club from its inception has undertaken projects to beautify areas on the Mountain and at special sites elsewhere, particularly where a result has been to bring the pleasure of growing flowers into the lives of persons who might otherwise be left without this beauty.
For some years, the club
maintained a plot at
“We have two parks in our
care on the Mountain,’’ Mrs. Martin W. Harris reports. “
Funding for these and other projects comes basically from a Christmas wreath project each year in December. With a hundred percent participation, the club takes on a four-day task of cutting, soaking, picking and making 80 wreaths which are sold to Mountain residents.
Club records reveal donations totalling approximately $500 on an annual basis to various organizations or institutions in furtherance of the club’s programs and purposes.
Following is a list of past presidents of Lookout Mountain Beautiful since 1918:
Mrs. Newell Sanders ................ 1918-1925
Mrs. J. S. Ziegler ................... 1926-1927
Mrs. E. H. Rolston .................. 1928-1929
Mrs. E. Frank Crabtree .............. 1930-1931
Mrs. W. F. Smith.................... 1932-1933
Mrs. A. T. Waters................... 1934-1935
Mrs. E. Frank Crabtree .............. 1936-1937
Mrs. G. Fred Thomas ............... 1937-1938
Mrs. W. S. Barefield................. 1939-1940
Mrs. C. A. Schier ................... 1941-1942
Mrs. B. H. Munroe, Jr................ 1943-1944
Mrs. Leven Turner .................. 1945-1946
Mrs. A. F. Striker ................... 1947-1948
Mrs. A. J. Law...................... 1948-1949
Mrs. Sam Robinson ................. 1949-1951
Mrs. Rolf Norbom................... 1951-1952
Mrs. J. P. Schumacher .............. 1952-1954
Mrs. Martin Harris................... 1954-1956
Mrs. Rush Hickman ................. 1956-1957
Mrs. Arch Howell ................... 1957-1959
Mrs. Edmund Chodd ................ 1959-1961
Mrs. T. L. Clary..................... 1961-1963
Mrs. Morton Kent ................... 1963-1964
Mrs. J. R. Light..................... 1964-1966
Mrs. J. Hal Asbury.................. 1966-1968
Mrs. Gordon Trewhitt................ 1968-1970
Mrs. Wm. B. Bunn .................. 1970-1972
Mrs. McCoy Campbell............... 1972-1974
Mrs. Jay B. Stringer................. 1974-1976
Mrs. Rudolph M. Landry............. 1976-1978
Mrs. Cranston Pearce ............... 1978-1979
Mrs. William Striebinger ............. 1979-1981
Mrs. Herbert F. McQueen............ 1981-1982
Mrs. Sam M. Goodson .............. 1982-1984
Mrs. Chas. A. Megahee Jr............ 1984-1986
One does not have to go very deeply into the records of the Fairyland Garden Club to discover its major interest. It is, as the name suggests, to serve the aesthetic and civic interests of the community whose name it bears.
Any accounting of club activities shows a constant reiteration of projects designed to improve the appearance of the public areas in Fairyland, to encourage official attention to such concerns as safety on the streets, to give aid where possible to residents in need, and to exhibit support for the public school through beautification of its grounds.
Brief notations gleaned from minutes of the club over its nearly 40 years’ existence — prepared by Mrs. David Opfer, a past president, for a club program — provide examples of its enduring aims.
In 1949, the year of its organization, the club noted the need for street signs and discussed ways to obtain a picnic area as a means of reducing litter. In 1951, it petitioned for establishment of a 25-mile-an-hour speed limit in Fairyland as a safety measure, and early on it worked to have lane lines painted and maintained.
Among its early projects was the adoption of the various gates symbolic of entrance into the community for cleaning up and planting. Not all its efforts were either successful or appreciated, however. In 1975, notice was taken of the fact that a bird path with a stature of “the Little Goose Boy” was bought for the Fleetwood gate. It was “cemented into place and promptly stolen.”
As early as 1964, the club
requested Fairyland merchants to beautify the business area, and the idea has
been a recurring concern. In 1976, the club undertook the planting of the
“triangle” at the intersection of
Over the years, the
Fairyland Club has carried out a number of cooperative projects with other area
clubs, but by choice it has chosen not to become federated. Community service
projects have included the annual presentation of a Joy to the World display,
support for the
In addition, it has passed along such useful tidbits of gardening knowledge as these: The only way to get rid of a garden of honeysuckle is to dig it up. Dig up, do not mow, wild onions; mowing merely strengthens the roots for an even worse comeback. And, more pleasantly, “as gardeners, and as human beings, we should take time to look at beauty around us.”
The club held its first meeting in April 1949 with the following charter members: Mrs. Earl Bagby, Mrs. R. M. Greenwell, Mrs. Richard Houck, Mrs. J. Beryl Kemp, Mrs. Newell Knapp, Mrs. J. F. McElwee, Mrs. A. L. Mitchell, Mrs. Leven Turner and Mrs. James Wright.
Past presidents are: Mrs. Leven Turner, 1949; Mrs. Earl Bagby, 1950; Mrs. Richard Houck, 1951; Mrs. Beryl Kemp, 1952; Mrs. A. L. Mitchell, 1953; Mrs. J. F. McElwee, 1954; Mrs. Ashford Todd, 1955; Mrs. F. P. Ryan, 1956; Mrs. R. M. Greenwell, 1957; Mrs. James Wright, 1958; Mrs. Leonard Tanner, 1959; Mrs. J. R. Sheorn, 1960; Mrs. Charles Bower and Mrs. B. T. Goodrum, 1961; Mrs. Frank Cater, 1962; Mrs. T. F. Gifford, 1963; Mrs. Frank T. White, 1964; Mrs. G. Nelson Dickinson, 1965; Mrs. Earl Drew, 1966; Mrs. Dan Johnson, 1967; Mrs. Allison Webb, 1968; Mrs. J. Moore Patton, 1969; Mrs. B. T. Goodrum, 1970; Mrs. Odon von Werssowetz, 1971; Mrs. Hugh Brown, 1972; Mrs. James G. Rawlings, 1973; Mrs. Charles W. Bower, 1974; Mrs. Marian W. York, 1975; Mrs. W. M. Keyser, 1976; Mrs. J. W. Yandle, 1977; Mrs. S. J. Wingfield Jr., 1978; Mrs. Wilson Ellis, 1979; Mrs. Walter Red, 1980; Mrs. Earl E. Coulter Jr., 1981; Mrs. James F. Gardner Jr., 1982; Mrs. David Opfer, 1983; Mrs. John W. Cummings III, 1984; Mrs. William F. Stewart, 1985; Mrs. Robert M. Salyer, 1986.
Organized in 1956, the
Woodland Garden Club has always clung to the idea of serving the aesthetic
interests of the community in which its members live. Its purpose, as stated in
the bylaws, is “to promote an interest in gardens, to cooperate in the
protection of wild flowers, native plants and trees, to encourage civic
monuments and to enhance the natural beauty of
In the beginning, organizing members remember, a big issue was whether or not to become federated. “We decided it was not a part of our purpose,” Rachel Scott, the club’s first president, said.
The first “real” meeting was held at the home of Fran Segler, with “Miss Molly” McCord as the principal speaker.
The first slate of officers was as follows: Rachel Scott, president; Toots Richter, vice president; Fran Segler, secretary, and Mason Daley, treasurer.
Other founding members were Caroline Alston, Mefran Campbell, Glen Alice Dickson, Ruth Dowling, Geneva Duncan, Brownie Estabrook, Emmaline Ferguson, Elsie Giffin, Ann Greene, Kay Harper, Charlene Hutcherson, Martha Marland, Mrs. Charles A. Noone, Jellis Moncure, Janet Paden, Doris Schneiderbauer, Chris Shamhart, Marianna Thomi-son and Mary Unruh.
Throughout the years, the club has sponsored flower shows, home tours, workshops, Christmas doorway and mailbox decoration competitions and auctions, many for the purpose of raising funds, a portion of which always went to the less fortunate. In
one year, its Caring Project covered eight different community needs.
Current horticultural and
aesthetic endeavors include two plots in front of the
Since 1974 the club has
cared for the strip between
The dogwoods which have been added to those already there have added to the beauty. Each tree has been planted in memory of a loved one and many have a bronze plaque so stating. The project is not restricted to members of the club.
The Laurelwood Garden Club, founded in 1964, already has an impressive list of accomplishments to its credit, with its greatest emphasis given the Fairyland community where many of its members have their homes.
Mrs. Wilford Caulkins, who played a major role in the club’s organization, was chosen as its first president. Other founding officers are listed as Mrs. Glenn Brown, vice president; Connie Walton, recording secretary; Mrs. James Reilly, corresponding secretary; Mrs. Ward Reilly Jr., treasurer, and Mrs. Lance Hamilton, program chairman.
The club’s first major
project was the beautification of the
It was a mature venture
undertaken by the club, only three yearsold. It asked Mrs. Edith Henderson, a
noted landscape artists from
The first step was to clear the site that once resembled a swamp. Bulldozers were called in; they were followed by machinery to fill the low spots. Possibly the thing that helped the most was the removal of unwanted trees and ground level scrub growth. The pond was drained, which gave neighborhood residents a great surprise in seeing fish swimming in
“We hope everyone will enjoy the rustic beauty of the spot,” Mrs. Scott commented. “Stop and take a little stroll. Share with us a pleasant moment of nostalgia.”
A list of club presidents is as follows:
Rachel Scott, 1956; Doris Schiederbauer, 1957; Geneva Duncan, 1958; Fran Segler, 1959; Mary Unruh, 1960; Peggy Kovacevich, 1961; Bonnie Graves, 1962; Elaine Funderburg, 1963; Rita Kerr, 1964; Elaine Funderburg, 1965; Ruth Doster, 1966; Jacqueline Buttram, 1967; Marie Crimmins, 1968; Bev Webb, 1969; Jean Evans, 1970; Brownie Esta-brook, 1971; Betsy Stonebumer, 1972; Barbie Hale, 1973; Ann Elizabeth Devaney, 1974; Pat Persinger, 1975; Alice Morrow, 1976; Barbara Peacock, 1977; Mary Vorderbruegge, 1978; Jeanne Rudisill, 1979; Nancy Johnson, 1980; Mimi Beasley, 1981; Beverly Conner, 1982; Janet Paden, 1983; Rachel Scott,
1984; Beth Crumbliss, 1985; Marilyn Williams, 1986.
their drainage ditches. But winter rains refilled the pond and soon a few ducks called it home.
After club members gathered and hauled away the limbs and tree trunks, grass seed was sown over the site.
Mrs. Henderson’s plans called for the replanting of the area. Mrs. Joe Donnavin, president at the time, was quoted as saying “three little hemlocks” were all the club had been able to put out as the preparation of the pond cost more than $950, quite a sum for a young club to make available.
It was a much improved
spot the club was able to present to the Mountain. After the five-year project
was completed, the Laurelwood Garden Club had turned a stagnant pond into an
outdoor classroom for
The club then turned its attention to the plots around the Fairyland stores and firehall. They were filled with spring and summer flowers — something that remains always as a project.
In 1985-86, the club was
invited to plant and maintain flower beds around the Navarre Pavilion. A
unanimous vote placed club members in the midst of this effort, as well as for
continued work around the
An auction during the Christmas season is a major part of fund-raising efforts. All club members must provide an item, service or store-bought gift with at least a $15 value. The contributions are then auctioned off, and the average return is in the neighborhood of $800.
Following is a list of past presidents:
Mrs. Wilford Caulkins, 1964-65; Mrs. John M. Walton, 1965-66; Mrs. Ansley Moses, 1966-67; Mrs. W. D. Pettway Jr., 1967-68; Mrs. E. N. Taliafero, 1968-69; Mrs. Joseph Donnavin, 1969-70; Mrs. Howard Brooks Jr., 1970-71; Mrs. James Ensign, 1971-72; Mrs. E. Y. Chapin IV, 1972-73; Mrs. John F. Killebrew, 1973-74; Mrs. George H. Pettway, 1974-75; Mrs. Fred Schumpert, 1975-76; Mrs. Frank Fowler, 1976-77; Mrs. Sherwood Dudley Jr., 1977-78; Mrs. Comer Hobbs, 1978-79; Mrs. Robert Caldwell Jr., 1979-80; Mrs. Albert Watson, 1980-81; Mrs. Joe Johnson, 1981-82; Mrs. Neil Thomas, 1982-83; Mrs. Jeff Davenport, 1983-84; Mrs. John Tugman, 1984-85; Mrs. Greg Brown, 1985-86; Mrs. Ewing Strang, 1986-87.
The membership holds fifty places for interested individuals.
Some
years ago.
a
That is a fine first step, of course, but Mrs. Wooten was convinced it was not a total answer. She perceived a need and set out to do something about it.
The result was the organization of the Outlook Club in 1969 with the specific purpose of welcoming newcomers to the community, promoting a closer relationship between established and new residents, and providing social and cultural activities for its members.
Today, the very active club, steadily expanding in scope and in size, is engaged in meeting many varied interests of its membership which is made up of both longtime and new residents of all ages.
Monthly meetings are scheduled throughout the year, with the exception of the midsummer. Stimulating programs involving excellent speakers or discussion leaders are present through this medium. In addition, the Club has become the hub for a number of interest groups, including two book groups, two gourmet groups, a supper club, two bridge groups and a tennis group which meet on a continuing basis. Periodically, social events such as lobster dinners are planned so that the husbands of members can come to know each other better.
Past presidents with their years of elections are:
Mrs. Walter (Lillian) Wooten, 1969; Mrs. Robert (Nancy) Feeney, 1970; Mrs. Joe (Kathryn) Wise, 1971; Mrs. George (Jane Anne) Knebel, 1972; Mrs. Joe (Kay) Swafford, 1973; Mrs. Ted (Ann) Hope, 1974; Mrs. John (Ruth) Lothers, 1975; Mrs. Jay (Dorothy) Stringer, 1976; Mrs. Jerry (Faith) Wenger, 1977; Mrs. Tony (Paula) Leonard, 1978; Mrs. McCoy (Josephine) Campbell, 1979; Mrs. Roy (Sandy) McKenzie, 1980; Mrs. Henry (Wendy) Williams, 1981; Mrs. James (Bobby) Coogler, 1982; Mrs. Roy C. (Donna) Maddox, 1983; Mrs. Wilson (Betty) Ellis, 1984; Mrs. Floyd (Sarah) Feely, 1986.
Information concerning membership in the Outlook Club can be obtained from any of the recent past presidents. Lookout Mountain adults, regardless of age or the length of their residency on the Mountain, are invited to become a part of a unique organization, which while instilling in its members a sense of community pride and “togetherness” also provides through its various activities the means by which the newcomer may feel “a part” rather than “apart.”
The Above the Clouds Book Club is no Johnny-come-lately organization. It has been in existence since February 1937 and has met every second Tuesday since, almost without fail, to exchange books, engage in informal discussions and enjoy a social hour.
There are no elected officers and members serve in rotation on a committee of two to select books for the reading list.
The twelve charter members were Harriette Willingham Bacon, Elisabeth R. Bryan, Bena McV. Chambliss, Owene Lynch Hall, Anna Robbins McCall, “Tee” Sloane Morin, Corinne Milton Moore now of Clearwater, Fla., Martha Merriman Preston, Isabelle Temple Smartt, Evelyn (Mrs. Robert) Sims who is no longer a resident, Marian Y. Von Canon, “Molly” Lamoreau Warner, now of Spartansburg, S.C.
The first long-term
resident known for works related to the Mountain was James Cameron, a Scotsman
who had settled in
Cameron fulfilled many
portrait and scenic commissions in the area. Probably his best known work, a family
portrait of the Whitesides, now hangs in the
In more modern times,
Frank Baisden brought widespread attention to the area with his paintings,
first at the
Fannie Mennen is another
well-known artist of the Rising Fawn area. A native of
Another artist in the New
Salem colony was Virginia Dudley, whose work in metal ranged from small and
graceful, sometimes whimsical, pieces to massive sculptures from material
salvaged from scrapheaps and junkyards. She had exhibited widely, including the
Charles and Rubynelle Counts, also had their pottery studio at New Salem where
many of his university students came for advanced instruction. His pottery
techniques were extended to include mosaic tile murals for which he won many
awards. Mrs. Counts specialized in rug making and quilt designs. In 1984, they
moved their studio to
Eleanor Gill was a weaver with her loom a prominent feature in the dramatic home on East Sunset Road designed by her husband, architect Harrison Gill Sr. Her wall hangings have been featured in exhibitions in several states.
Ariel Stevenson McMillin,
a Mountain resident transplanted from
Irene Coleman of Cravens Terrace worked in oils, caseins and water colors, particularly liking scenes, still lifes and dried arrangements of local interest. She also was a potter with a bold, direct design.
Nancy Pigott Kefauver,
wife of the senator, was already an artist of promising stature when she moved
to
Mary B. Lynch, another alumna of Plum Nelly, distinguished herself as a painter, teacher and guest artist-in-residence. She works in water colors, acrylics, print making, drawing and etching and was a founding member of the Tennessee Watercolor Society. In 1983, she was a finalist in the competition for the White House Christmas card design.
A growing list of younger
artists has given promise that
Eve Oldham’s “Notchwood Gallery” on the side of the mountain began as a shop featuring her own charming paintings and designs as well as choice works of others. She later moved exclusively into highly specialized portraiture.
There have been informal “art groups” formed from time to time. One flourished around 1950 and is remembered chiefly for two heroic efforts. They were asked to paint scenery for a production of “Hansel
In earlier days, hotels
played host to popular dinner dances, with small ensembles providing the music.
At one point, Arthur T. Ham of
Thus did Joseph Ottaker
Cadek, late of
Mr. Ham’s home, “Sleepy Hollow,” still stands at 312 Sunset Circle. And the small house to one side, distinguished by the windows with diamond-shaped panes, was the studio of Edith Ham, the young violinist for whom her father wanted a good teacher.
The home was purchased in
1937 by
Many musical activities
were initiated by
Dr. and Mrs. Edwin S.
Lindsey, who lived for many years in a house of their own design on Princess
Trail, were prominent on the local music scene. Professionally, Dr. Lindsey was
head of the
and Gretel” at the old
During his years at U.C., he wrote and produced a number of musical works including operas, ballet scores and shorter pieces. Mountain residents appearing in the productions included Tim Manson, Mrs. Blynn Owen, Marcia McMillin and several chorus members.
Dr. Lindsey was also a performer. He was a charter member of the Chattanooga Symphony playing the viola, and was instrumental in organizing the Chattanooga Opera Association in 1943. He wrote the definitive history of the opera group in 1978.
On the lighter side,
Mountain residents have fond memories of the Patio, the cliff-side open air dance
pavilion at the Lookout Mountain Hotel (now
The Dismembered Tennesseans, formed by prep school friends many years ago, still features three of its original members, Ansley Moses, Fletcher Bright and Frank McDonald, in their delightful renditions of Blue Grass numbers along with compositions of their own. They remained overthe years a featured entertainment at all sorts of gatherings throughout the area. The group has recorded a record, “Forty Years With the Wrong Band.”
Scott Maclellan came on
the scene as a music entrepreneur in the electronic age. He formed his own rock
band and then expanded his interests to include a recording studio and
management business on
Jimmy Wann, a talented composer
as well as performer, attracted national attention with his work in
An illustrious alumnus of
the Dismembered Tennesseans is Walter Forbes. At
Another resident of the
Mountain who made a name for herself on the American dramatic stage was Dorothy
Patten, daughter of Zeboim Charles Patten. She was cast in a number of
The Hyder sisters made
their mark, here and in
One of the earliest of
writers identified with
In the 1890s, the name of Francis Lynde began to appear in national publications. He had retired after 20 years of railroading and begun to write, producing literally hundreds of fictional pieces, mostly of magazine length. A local reviewer in 1930termed him “our most prolific writer” who has written “more books than all the rest of Chattanoogans put together.” John P. Fort was a lawyer and newspaper reporter who turned his wit and artistry to writing fiction marked by swift and colorful action. His wife, Louise Frazier Fort, also a newspaper writer, produced numerous shorter pieces.
Clinton Dangerfield, a
daughter of the Old South from
Abby Crawford Milton, a
local resident, was widely praised for her poetry and her pieces on nature
subjects. Her book, “ Flower Lore,” which appeared in
1956, was an anthology of verse describing nearly 300
The Govan family of
writers deserves a chapter to itself in any commentary on Mountain authors. Dr.
Govan,
Christine Noble Govan wrote some for an adult audience but concentrated on works for children, starting with her early series about the “Plummer children,” on through authorship with their daughter, Emmy Govan West, of a number of mystery stories laid in the Lookout area.
Mrs. West also wrote many children’s books, her “Katy No-Pocket,” becoming a classic which has been translated in virtually every major language around the globe.
Mary Govan Steele became particularly well known through her books on nature, in prose and in poetry. Her husband, William O. Steele, was the author of a number of historical biographies written for student ages.
Among other Mountain residents who have attracted attention for their published works are Helen McDonald Exum, an executive of the News-Free Press and author of several cookbooks; John Wilson, also with a newspaper background, author of works dealing with local history; Mitzi Chambliss, a gifted illustrator whose work has appeared in a number of books for children; and Lucy Glascock who has written a paperback account of her experiences and observations as a rehabilitation expert at the Nature Center.
Childhood is immediate, all too soon gone; it is perpetual, generation after generation.
The fourth set of
From the 1890s to the 1980s the Mountain environment has provided them with many of the same activities. There are the trees, to be played under, to be climbed in, to wage battles from, to mount a campaign for.
There was a great sycamore tree in the Gardner Brights’ back yard, Kennedy Smartt remembered, “that every boy — and some girls — in the neighborhood climbed to establish his skill, bravery and growth toward manhood — until he reached the last tiny branch at the top, he was a nobody.”
And there are the great
rocks, with cliffs to scale and caves to search out, for the entire length of
the Mountain community.
Just under surface in all the woods and vacant lots is always the tantalizing possibility of finding exciting relics — bits and pieces from long ago fires that burned homes and hotels; from the Civil War itself, the belt buckles, canteens, mini-balls; arrowheads from Indian times; strange little items that were maybe even prehistoric.
In the ’20s and '30s,
sports fell into an ordered pattern. Spring meant kite flying. “The hill where
the old Lookout Mountain Inn used to be was our prime spot for flying kites,”
Fred Milligan said. Sometimes as many as 20 or 30 children would have their
kites in the air there, and “grownups were conspicuous by their absence.” The
East Brow lot now occupied by Hardwick and Harriet Caldwell was another favored
location and, later, the hilltop where
Kiting was followed by
roller skating. There was no rink, but plenty of
sidewalks, especially the stretch from
Baseball was next, with
each neighborhood having its own mini-playground, usually an appropriated vacant
lot. For the Incline group, it was Carter Park just south of the Station. The
Hiking and bicycling took
youngsters up and down the Mountain, and back and
forth from
A unique activity was the
formation of the “Merry Mountaineers,” a boys’ club developed in the
Brights’ back yard provided the setting for most of the plays.
Football was strictly a neighborhood affair until in the ’thirties when the school organized a team with the help of Nick Senter.
Wintertime brought virtually unlimited opportunities for sledding, even for the daring trips down the Mountain road with return by the Incline. Less hazardous were snowy routes down Whiteside by the school, on to Hermitage all the way to Scenic; West
Fleetwood to the Hardwick Caldwell Srs.; Stardust Hill past the Catholic Church; the end of West Brow by the John Guerry house; Park Road, and the golf course.
In the late ’30s, the town commission with great foresight began the development of an organized recreation program which became one of the best in the region. Its success does not dim the memories of what went on before.
Years in the making, the
The first steps were taken
in the mid-’30s to establish a playground primarily for use in the summertime
for outdoors play. The site, to the west of
Mrs. Joe Johnson, J. H.
McBrien, and Town Commissioner Albert Taber took the lead in overseeing
preparation of the site accomplished with the use of WPA workers from
The site, now known as the Town Common, was part of the holdings of Alexander Hunt, a pioneer resident of the Mountain. His home stood about where the ball diamond is now located. The home fell into disrepair and had been removed some years before, and the area given largely over to a dumping site.
William G. Raoul, a lifetime resident, remembers what an eyesore it had become.
In a taped conversation with Jac Chambliss, he said it was “hard to remember what it was like” before being turned into a playground.
“Strange to say it had a
concrete sidewalk leading down from the streetcar track (which ran on what is
now
“The old Hunt place when I knew it was abandoned by the original owners and a black family lived in one wing of it. It was an L-shaped house and the other wing as I remember it was falling down.
“I imagine when that house was established there they must have had a spring in that hollow.
“And it’s totally different now. It was the most unpromising site on the Mountain and how the Mountain slowly carved out that playground there is really quite remarkable.”
In 1949, the citizens of the town decided to build a community center connected to the school building, honoring those who had lost their lives in the service. The building was under construction by October of that year, with a classroom added to give space for Mrs. Eric Jahn’s kindergarten class.
The complex included a
fine gymnasium with a skating rink in the basement. The
At that point, John Kovacevich was named athletic director for the Mountain. He scheduled fitness programs for the school children during the week — basketball games in the gym and skating in the rink below.
The rink soon became the most important room on the Mountain for the children. They flocked there on Friday nights and all day Saturday to “skate off their energy.” It became the “in” place to have a birthday party, and parents and children alike looked forward to Family Night every Saturday. Special wooden-wheel skates could be bought or rented, and many participants progressed to owning their own “wheels.”
The gym was also a haven for children particularly on winter weekends with basketball, volleyball and badminton games often in progress. Church league games were scheduled for the men and several all-star games were booked against teams from other areas. Girls were included in the sports program and there were many activities for them to join in. Square dances were organized for those interested, and for several years May Day programs were held in the gym.
Summer activities
dominated the program at the Common — children’s play sessions, softball,
baseball, track, tennis on weekdays. The skating rink
remained open on two days a week. New bleachers were installed at the softball
diamond and church league games scheduled. The softball field was converted to
a football field in the fall and, at least,
“Coach” Kovacevich was recalled to the Air Force for the Korean conflict, and Dick Thomas succeeded him for the years before Buck Stamps came in 1955. His outstanding work has been recognized by having the field at the school named for him.
Nick Senter, a sports
devotee since his youth, was particularly helpful during his years on the town
commission in development of the recreation program. He became commissioner of
Dixie Youth baseball in its early stages and led in bringing the Dixie Youth
World Series to
The Navarre Pavilion, a
distinctive shelter for groups using the Common, was dedicated
Other recent additions to the facilities there include a “Grandmother’s Playground,” equipped with playground pieces and fenced in to ease the minds of attendant grandparents, and a fifth of a mile paved walking track built around the ballfield.
Mrs. Joe Johnson — “Miss Nell” to practically everyone who knew her—was a generous supporter of early efforts to finish and equip the softball field, as well as other projects.
Nick Senter recallsthat in 1938, a group — Frank and Key Caldwell, Dick Schier and Fred Ryan among them — went to Miss Nell with an idea for lighting the field. She said she would give them $250 if they could do the job with that amount.
“We took the money and went to work. It was Wednesday and that weekend we played a night game, having hired one electrician who purchased all supplies. We ball players did the labor.”
Whenever the families of
Homecomings are nothing
new for
Sunday dinner was the time when families gathered after church. Strangely enough, for years and years the menu never changed. Itwas roast beef, creamed potatoes, and green beans. Or sometimes baked or broiled chicken, instead of the roast beef, with corn pudding. Add to that a country ham, for special occasions.
It was traditional
Fancy entertaining was
another thing that
Beautiful parties were given by creative hostesses. Think of Margaret Kruesi, David and Elise Johnson and Dot Hedges, to mention a few.
Over at
The summer parties on
Dot Hedges is one of the mountain’s most creative hostesses ever, and had all kinds of parties. At the chateau that she and Jim Hedges built, each one was different and each one was wonderful with her warm hospitality. She usually had something French, like chicken Veronique, but once she had a sultan’s partyfor Jim in which the girls of the family dressed up as his harem with Turkish food to go with it. The Brock clan is famous for summer family reunions, and for Christmas brunches that include all the family connections, for which Peg made a huge egg casserole to go with Christmas ham and sausage.
The Jim Glascocks are
famous for barbecues — the
When Mrs. Alex Guerry
moved to the Mountain from Sewanee, she brought with her a tradition of loving
to gather her family and friends around her. She entertained constantly on
Some
There are surely others
that have been left out of this story, who had roast
beef and creamed potatoes and green beans every Sunday, and who entertained
family and friends just as lavishly, at special occasions. In the ’60s and ’70s
this pattern seemed to change on
The patterns that went steadily on for 50 or 60 years have now surely changed. But the memories remain of those days eating Dolly’s macaroon pudding at the Carl Cartinhour’s house, or enjoying a baked hen dinner with Betty’s coconut cake at the Walter Temples’ house, or going to the Lookout Mountain Bible class luncheon and having Lucy Carter’s angel food cake. They create a store of memories.
As people on
In years gone by, the celebration of the Fourth of July lasted at least three days, counting all the preparations, William Raoul remembers.
The barbecue at the
Lookout Mountain Club on
“The Rev. Ed Dial, pastor
of the
“Heavy iron bars were set across the pit and on them several whole sides of both lamb and pork were placed, an enormous amount forthe small population of the Mountain in those days.
“By the time the Reverend had completed all these preparations the fire had burned down to a big bed of coals. With a shovel he spread these coals and ashes under the meat, put more wood on the fire and settled down to his rathertedious duties. In addition to his shovel he had a hickory switch with a cotton rag sewn to the fork on its end, and a big pot of barbecue sauce. And so, day and night, rain or shine, he tended his meat, pestered by small children during the day and alone with his memories during the night.
"Rain dripped through the holes in the tarpaulin. Each drop hissed gently as it fell in the ashes. Fat dripped from the meat, but the fire was kept so low in the pit that it never flamed. From time to time he would twist off a juicy fragment for a child, and these gifts were taken gratefully.
"Late in the afternoon of the Glorious Fourth the sides of meat were taken from the pit and spread on long trestle tables. The crowd began to gather, and Mr. Charley Willingham was appointed to carve the meat. He did so with all the gusto of a Turkish janizary slashing the paynim hordes with his saber.
“There was no possible way
that all that meat could be consumed on the spot, and it wasn’t. The people
arrived with platters and carted off a quantity of meat which could have well
sustained the armies of Agamemnon encamped before the walls of
“On the July 5th the same children who had presided over the Reverend Dial’s long and loving preparation were served with surplus their parents had brought home from the party, by this time cold and congealed. Thus the children tasted one of the small disillusionments of life: that barbecue, after such an elaborate and fragrant preparation results finally in cold and overcooked, over-seasoned meat, a poor addition to any diet, and of benefit only to the manufacturers of bicarbonate of soda.’’
For a century now, tennis
has provided a popular recreational outlet for residents of
The first court built in
the area is thought to have been the one laid at the Cravens Terrace home of
Jonathan and Nancy Cravens McMillin around 1885. The earliest one on top of the
Mountain was built at
Soon thereafter, Albert
Hayes Chapman built a court at
In tracing the early days of the sport on Lookout, Katie Taff, a longtime player, coach and tournament director, said she found that the persons interviewed clearly remembered the games and the participants on these fields of play, but many were fuzzy when it came to dates of construction.
When the old car line was
abandoned, Ike Phillips took advantage of the waste materials to level his back
yard at
In addition to home games,
club tennis has kept Mountain residents entertained through long hot summers.
The Lookout Mountain Tennis Club was built in 1918 at
In 1930, Fairyland Club
built two concrete courts, a surface which later gave way to materials which
players found better playable. From these courts emerged chubby, enthusiastic
little Roscoe Tanner, even then headed fortennisfame and the 1979finals at
In the late ’30s, two clay courts were built at the Common with WPA funds. They too were later resurfaced and a third court added as tennis became more and more popular for players of all ages.
A familiar foursome on the Common courts in the early ’60s were Frank Willett, Jack Webb, DeSales Harrison and Alex Guerry. All the men contributed substantially to the game of tennis here and over the nation.
I n his more than 30 years
as director of the
He remembers one little boy in his youth program who begged and begged to play shortstop on the baseball team. But he was lefthanded, Buck told interviewer Roy Exum, and was shifted to first base.
“Everybody knows somebody lefthanded can’t play short stop,” Buck said, laughing. “But that kid persisted until we finally said okay. The next year, he played there all season, not letting one ball get past. What on earth do we know?”
And who could have ever
predicted that the same kid, the boy who dreamed of being a shortstop, would
ride that same left arm all the way to
“But I’ll never forget how Roscoe [Tanner] could play short,” Buck shook his head recently as a flood of memories cascaded through his mind. “There have been the greatest kids in the world pass through here.”
The
Johnny Kovacevich,
football hero from the
“We had one football team, one basketball team and one baseball team that first year,” explained Stamps, “and we played folks like OLPH, Normal Park School and the Termite teams at Baylor and McCallie.”
Within several years intramural teams were started at the Lookout Mountain Elementary School — named the Lions, the Bears, the Hawks and the Tigers just like they are today — and the program was in full swing.
“The thrill forme, and maybe this is too personal, is to see this generation today have the same zeal and enthusiasm that their daddies and mommas had 30 years ago. Sometimes I think I’ve gone back in a space capsule when some of these little kids, honest to gosh, are exactly like their parents.”
Many of today’s new parents were members of the first Dixie Youth baseball teams that were established on the Mountain in 1959. Some played in the 1961 World Series which brought national acclaim to the Mountain.
“I think in the early ’60s the Mountain program really took off,” said Buck. The busy summer program was lengthened by the school into year-around activities that have long been the envy of nearby communities.
“We have literally hundreds every year but what really makes this program work is the people of this Mountain and that’s where the credit needs to go.” “I think about Nick Senter, about Tom Moore and Jimmy Wann in those early years, then about Toby Silberman and young people like Bill Bailey and Rob Healy and Alan Brown. That is what makes it so successful.”
With the mention of names, Buck was asked about the Mountain’s top athletes from days gone past and he, unashamedly and without fear of leaving out someone, plunged headlong into a list that defies description.
“I’d say the best girl athlete on this mountain was Theresa Lawrence, Reuben’s daughter who later became the captain of the Vanderbilt basketball team, and the best all-around male athlete was one of three guys: Roscoe Tanner, Rob Healy or Bill Bailey.
“You get into real trouble when you say who is the very best but, day in and day out, I’ll take those without an apology.”
Who was the fastest kid ever at the playground? “It would have to be Rob. And Susu Holley ...” “Now Bernard Blackburn, who will be a junior at Hixson High this fall, was pretty fast. But I remember the time we took Rob and Forrest Simmons to the Baylor Relays when they were in the 6th grade and they placed one-two in the Junior High 60-yard dash!” Buck today oversees a thriving program that encompasses children from Lookout Mountain Elementary and Fairyland and offers such sports as
tumbling and soccer. He was asked about athletes who were particularly outstanding. Here are the ones who got their start at the Common in the summertime:
Tennis — Roscoe Tanner, Cindy Kemp, Sholar and Kappie Clark, Melanie Mercer, Elizabeth Donno-vin, Scottie and Jack Webb, Chris Brown, Forrest Simmons, David Dick, George Dickinson, Harry Scott, Morrow Chamberlain, Eric Voges, Zan and Pern Guerry, Pay and Bill Guerry.
Golf — Charlotte Grant, King Oehmig, and Jimmy Chapin.
Baseball
— Bill Bailey, who pitched for the
Football — Rob Healy, who played for Georgia Tech, and his brother Chip, an All-American guard at Vanderbilt; Dan Robinson, who played at Georgia, and Dennis Commons, an All-State player at City High.
Wrestlers
— All the
Swimmers
— Mark Williamson (
Others — Marty Cannon, Charlie Noone, Hammond Dean, Shaak Van Deusen, Ed Cater.
Mot all the sports
competitions for which
It was the great automobile road race run in late April 1909, under the auspices of the Lookout Mountain Automobile Club of Chattanooga, an event which local accounts said attracted the largest crowd of people to the slopes of the Mountain since “(Gen. Joseph) Hooker massed Federal forces there in the 60s.” The casualties were fewer this time but the noise and confusion almost as great.
Sponsors of the race,
among them the leading businessmen of the city, designed the event as a
promotion to attract the attention of industrialists from other parts of the
country to
Buick had the largest
complement on hand, eight in all, including the famed Louis Chevrolet, who made
his mark at
On hand early for an
inspection of the cotirse, Strang had established himself as a favorite to take
the honors in the event. After a trial run, Strang’s eyes “danced with pleasure
when he saw the many chances he would have of getting dashed over various
cliffs and subsequently drowned in the murky depths of the
On April 22, the day of the race, an estimated 50,000 spectators lined the road or draped themselves over the rocks to get a view of the daring drivers’ attempts to negotiate the prescribed course. The starting point was the intersection of Wauhatchie and St. Elmo pikes. Ahead lay narrow ledges and dangerous curves with such appropriate names as “Spine Stretcher” and “Undertaker’s Delight” on the 4.9-mile course to the top.
Strang lived up to his advance notices. He took three of the five events in which he was entered, and the Buick team ran up victories in seven of the eight races on the program. A Stoddard-Dayton took the other.
The best time of the day
was posted by Bert Miller in a Stoddard-Miller,
Clarence James, “a local
boy,” was supposed to drive a
Injuries were few and none serious. The Chattanooga Times reported that George Dewitt “went off the track at the hairpin curve,” his car turning completely over. The driver was not hurt.
There were conflicts at other points as well. Soldiers were posted to keep spectators off the track but their presence did not assure complete tranquility. As The Times reported, “One youth, who posed as a bold bad man and retorted angrily when a sentry told him to keep out of the way, was picked bodily from terra firm a and carried to the outskirts of the crowd by four members of Troop B.” The life of a soldier is never easy.
It is one of the marvels
of
But it happened in the late ’20s when plans were laid for a Fairyland Golf Course, as it was to be called, on the eastern shelf of the Mountain. Play began in 1927, with a frame clubhouse built on Wood Nymph Trail. In 1957, with the name changed to Lookout Mountain Golf Club, the present mountain stone clubhouse was built under the direction of Bob Griffith. It has since been enlarged to its present size.
The beauty of the course and its surrounding vistas have stirred the appreciation of golf enthusiasts ever since it was opened. Among the many luminaries who have played the layout, Bob Hope was one of the most captivated. He told his hosts he thought it had the most beautiful natural scenery of any course he had played to that time.
The weekend “dogfights” are important to many local businessmen who look forward to this type of relaxation. The annual “Swing Ding” has become one of the most prestigious tournaments in the area.
The club has had a number of its members to distinguish themselves in the golfing world. Lew Oehmig, winner of countless local and state titles, has been the national men’s senior champion several times, as well as non-playing captain of the Walker Cup team in international play.
Betty Probasco, also often a champion of local and state play, has won the national women’s senior title and has captained the Curtis Cup team in play abroad.
Charlotte Grant grew up on
the links of
Some members of the Lookout Mountain Golf Club can rememberwhen the fairways were so rough that rules permitted a playerto tee up the ball, or even to move it.
And others will recall something about which little or nothing is said today. There was a time when women could not play the course during certain hours.
In the early days there was a caddy master called simply “Old Pal.” It was thought that he lived in acave nearby.
As one project of Tennessee Homecoming ’86, volunteers contributed to the compilation of a guide to the hiking trails within the National Park Service property, available at the visitors’ center at Point Park. William F. McGinness, with the assistance of Jeanne Rudisill and Barbara Helton, has located more than 30 additional points of interest on the map, many of them marking lesser known sites for which there is still some remaining visible evidence. His notes are keyed to the numbered dots on the map.
1. THE GLEN, around which
2. “THE LOOKOUT" isthe name given to a level platform bounded by a rock wall at the top of the trail. An NPS marker describes the community of St. Elmo seen below.
3. ADAHI SPRINGS may be seen at this point on the trail.
4. LEONORA SPRING, on the
Mountain Beautiful Trail, once supplied the water for a hotel built on the East
Brow by James Whiteside. He devised a system for pumping the water from the
spring to a cistern, still visible a few feet from
5. WHITESIDE PIKE was built
in the 1840s by James Whiteside. From the entrance of the picnic grounds on
6. JOHNSON PIKE was
developed by Col. A. M. Johnson of St. Elmo in 1879 as an alternative to the
Whiteside toll road. For the most part it became the route for
8. BROAD GAUGE RAILROAD, completed in 1889 and abandoned in 1900, allowed regular rail cars to reach the top of the mountain. The route may be traced on Hardy and Upper Truck Trails.
9. INCLINE #1. At this
point on
10. POINT HOTEL opened its doors in May 1888 and was demolished in 1910. In the woods below may be seen massive stone supports for the hotel.
11. CRAVENS’ LAND COMPANY in the ’80s and ’90s cleared a fair amount of land in this area, now forested, and houses sprawled all the way down to St. Elmo.
12. ANDERSON SPRINGS, discovered by Charles C. Anderson, a nearby landowner. A cavern opening gives way to a 35-foot drop, at the bottom of which is a stream of water large enough to supply the city of Chattanooga from 1887-1911. At the base of the drop, the stream rolls over the ledge for a 281-foot fall.
13. JONAS BLUFF is best visible from I-24 or Moccasin Bend. It is the highest portion of the limestone bluff at the head of Lookout, rising from almost river level for 400 feet to the old Wauhatchie Pike.
14.
15. SHAKESPEARE STATUE. Still to be seen are remains of the statue placed here in 1934 by “The Shakespeare Society."
16. EAGLE'S NEST. This area was landscaped between 1924 and 1934 by Adolph S. Ochs. Two eagle statues hover over the cliffs above.
17. ROPER’S ROCK is the cliff where today's iron steps give access. Civil War photos show soldiers climbing a wooden ladder at this location. It was named for a Federal soldier who reportedly fell to his death when climbing up.
18. PULPIT ROCK, 60yards
abovethe present
19. ROCK SPRING is designated by a sign near the base of the cliff. It is believed the spring furnished water for the Point Hotel.
20. BLUE BEAVER TRAIL, one of the longest trails in the Park system here, was named for the “Beavers in Blue,” Federal soldiers who were constantly felling trees and building structures.
21. "RIFLE PITS," circular pits ringed in stone works, are believed by some to be Confederate defense positions, by others to be prehistoric in origin.
22. THE DINKEY LINE, a narrow gauge steam locomotive line, ran along this narrow trail from the Point Hotel beneath the western brow to a Sunset Rock station, and then to the Natural Bridge area. Except for short sections now in private yards, the old roadbed is clearly traceabletoday. Later electrified, it became a part of the moun-taintop trolley line.
23. CCC CAMP was base for the scores of Civilian Conservation Corps workers who, among other tasks, laid 30 miles of trails through the Park between 1934 and 1940. Only a few building foundations remain at the site very near the "Y” switchback built to accommodate steam trains ascending the Mountain.
24. LIGHTS MILL TRAIL, though no longer maintained, is still identifiable as it runs down through Reflection Riding.
25. GUM SPRING still flows in fair volume. In the ravine above the spring, the land not only levels off but actually goes uphill for a short distance.
26.
27. GIANTS NICHE is at a jog in the trail with a massive overhang 50 feet overhead. A bench made from a log bears the name.
28. GEARY’S CROSSING is the
location where 3,000 Union troops crossed Lookout Creek on
29. DEVIL’S PIT is a
landmark along the lower side of the Bluff Trail. Over 100 feet deep, it is
thought to be the product of a geological fault. Growing from the bottom is a
tree said by some to be the tallest in
30. COAL SPRING. At this point, about 15 feet off Bluff Trail is a stream of water running from a visible seam of coal.
31. JUDITH’S BLUFF is a spectacular point on Bluff Trail a few feet from its intersection with the Ochs Gateway Trail.
32. OCHS GATEWAY MEMORIAL AREA. Here is a small patio with stone benches, marking the beginning point of the Ochs Gateway Trail. A stone with four holes drilled in it once bore the Ochs Memorial plaque, later moved to its present site about 100 yards down the trail from the gateway.
33.
34. IPHIGENE’S CLIFF. This
landmark, so named by John A. Chambliss Sr., in honor of Adolph Ochs’ daughter,
was the terminus of a trail that connected the Ochs Gateway Trail with the
35. FRONTIER BLUFF. The
name was suggested by John A. Chambliss who developed a small residential area
encompassing the
An
abundance of trails crisscrossing the sometimes rolling, sometime precipitous
contours of the top of
Many riding
groups were formed over the years, one of the more notable being the Hunt Club. Property was purchased in the area
of what later became the Jo Conn Guild estate on
Tallulah (Mrs. George)
McGee remembered riding with her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Henry King, and their
friends Summerfield Johnston, Paul and Garnet Carter, over the area surrounding
the club. A teenager at the time, Tallulah was impressed with one particular
ride suggested by Garnet Carter. He wanted to show his friends some property he
had recently purchased which contained “lots of rocks.” It was an accurate
description of what he later developed into
On another ride through
the woods, she recalled, they stopped to admire a lovely hill setting which
someone along described as a “wonderful place for a hotel.” Not long afterward,
she said, Paul Carter built the spectacular Lookout Mountain Hotel which years
later became
In recalling the great pleasure of following beautiful trails on horseback, Tallulah said she regretted a situation in which “you can’t even keep a horse on your property.” But times do change.
She also remembered a time of some confusion and inconvenience occasioned by making way for automobile traffic rather than horseback riding up the Mountain.
It became necessary in
1927, she said, to improve the
WIth a natural interest in
the sport running high, swimming has for a quarter century been a major
competitive activity on
In early 1960, Marilyn Doster,
Mefran Campbell and Bobby Davenport formed a swimming team at Fairyland Club
and began to coach the youngsters from 6 to 17. The group was soon admitted to
the Chattanooga Swim League, and Mr. and Mrs. Richard Davenport came up daily
from
In steady fashion, the team progressed under the program offered, becoming one of the outstanding groups in the league. Many swimmers went on to win area and state recognition.
Outstanding swimmers over the years included these:
Mark Williamson, city, state and high school All-American during his years at McCallie.
Betsy and Caroline Caulkins, sisters who both became high school All-Americans at G.P.S., as well as city and state champions.
Chris and Rick Bryant, brothers who won city and state honors while at Baylor.
Ellen Kovacevich, city and state champion in diving, and a state high school diving champion for several years while at G.P.S.
Mary Lyn Doster, city and state junior (age 10 and under) champion.
There was once a time when food was plentiful, traps were scarce and all there was to do was to be in the sun and enjoy ourselves. But now. Oh, what a shame! There is hardly enough to eat, traps are everywhere and everyone has to be on the alert on an empty stomach. _prench Frazier
The Businesses They Ran (Licit and Otherwise):
^\ny mention of the name
Massey on
It is a natural reaction. The Massey Food Market was a focal point fortrading news of the community as well as for buying good things to eat for more years than most people can remember.
But it doesn’t tell the
whole story of the Masseys and their contributions to
Masseys began moving into
the area from the
Another branch, headed by
Warren A. Massey, came to
Nathan, a fruit grower and
farmer, had a farm at Gerber but in 1909 moved to a new location on
After farming with his
father until he was 22, Henry took a job with the S. T. and W. A. Dewees
Grocery firm, next door to Lovemans downtown. Three years later, J. E. Annis
opened a food store on
Henry worked for the Lookout Mountain Incline Railway before deciding to open his own store in 1923 with his brother Marvin as a partner. Still later, Joe also joined the firm.
Massey’s Market was enlarged at least three times and at one time, for a period of several years, it housed the Lookout Muntain Post Office.
The market was famous for
its fresh fruit and vegetables and also offered superb meats, from weiners to
steaks. Henry often would grind his own sausage, buying half a hog at a time
and using the choice cuts for the finished product. He liked to boast that
Massey’s could provide a family with any food item desired, including live
lobster from
Oiled wood flooring, a pot-bellied stove, a glass-enclosed candy counter, a pickle barrel, a big scale used for weighing both produce and babies of proud customers, a meat counter behind which was a well used chopping block with sawdust on the floor beneath, all gave an appearance belying its up-to-date inventory for a demanding clientele.
The store made daily
deliveries of telephoned orders from the Point to Fairyland, and it operated
with the help of Massey children, grandchildren and other relatives over the
years. It was a community gathering place where news and/or gossip were
exchanged in casual conversations. Surprise birthday parties were held on
occasion, as for example for Henry on his 75th birthday
The store was closed in 1972.
Marvin Massey’s first love
was the out-of-doors, and his record of employment reflects his preference.
Among his first jobs was for the Central of Georgia Railroad, helping build its
trestles around
Residents soon learned to depend upon him for furnishing rhododendron, mountain laurel and other plants, for taking down dead trees and furnishing firewood.
He helped brighten the
Yuletide with trees, wreaths, holly, magnolia branches and galax for
decorations. He and Gus Stone made annual pilgrimages to
Gus Stone, his associate
for years, recalls that they operated from a lot on the northeast corner of
When he would pick Marvin up on cold mornings, Gus says, he would always start the conversation with, “Man, it’s rough this morning, ain’t it?” And Marvin’s answer was always the same, “Yeah, but it could be wusser.” Gus swears he always wondered how it could be.
Marvin was also an authority on living plants of the Mountain area, assisting atone point in identifying the various species of trees and wildflowers for Reflection Riding.
He was a charter member of
the
Joe M. Massey, the youngest brother, also worked as a young man for the Incline Railway, and was engaged as a builder on Tom Thumb golf courses for Garnet Carter, both the original layout on the Mountain and others built elsewhere.
He also became a partner in the Food Market where his fame spread as an authority on Civil War battles in this area. Among those who gathered frequently at the market to talk about this, that and the other, the saying went out that if a question arose about the war, the thing to do was to call “Joe at the market” for a correct answer.
The renovated store site now houses Antiques on the Corner.
Drugs, Sundries and Sound Advice
11 was,
some felt, the biggest event on
It was
Actually, Sam was already pretty well known. From his St. Elmo Drug nearthefootofthe Incline, he had served Mountain customers for some years. Many times, prescriptions were sent up on the Incline and then, via bus, to the address where the driver would stop and blow his horn until someone came out for the package. In really bad weather, Marvin Massey would send his wrecker to fetch the medicine.
However, all was not pure delight that day. One lady remarked rather loudly, “We don’t need another building up here. Go on back to the foot where you belong.” It will come as no surprise that Sam told an interviewer, Anne Hall, “later, we became good
friends and I delivered many a package to her door.”
Sam’s soda fountain became THE place to meet and enjoy 5-cent Cokes, ice cream cones and hamburgers served up by Sam, Fletcher Bright or Howard Smith. It was then, Sam said, that he first became aware of Fletcher’s true talent. When a customer complained there was no one to wait on him, Sam went to the front door and spotted Fletcher, his counterman, seated on the sidewalk, happily strumming his guitar.
Sam’s first job, at age 13, was as a car-hop and delivery boy for Rhyne’s Drug Store in Rossville, but it was at Carmack’s Drug Store across the street that he first spotted a lovely young blonde named Ruth Cates. Since they were both 17, it was a few years before she became Mrs. Sam Robinson.
In 1935, Sam took a job with St. Elmo Drug and, in 1937, he and Bob Morton bought the store. In two more years, he became a registered pharmacist.
The first thing the new owners did was to clean out the place and, Sam bemoans today, discarded many old apothecary jars which would have become valuable antiques. He became more knowledgeable — and cautious — in later years.
In the late ’30s, Windy Willingham told Sam he woluld erect a building if Sam would operate a drug store on the Mountain. The bargain was struck and the establishment came into being.
The start of World War II quickly brought its own pressures. Sam let it be known he would fill a prescription at any time in an emergency, and not infrequently he would meet people from downtown in the middle of the night at the drug store.
The store’s regular hours
were from
Over the years, Sam filled more than half a million prescriptions, answered countless questions about ailments, saw nobody knows how many bruised elbows, swollen fingers and aching stomachs go by. For each, he had a soothing word and ' about the best thing” for treatment.
Nor did only the physically ailing get his help. He has patched up broken eyeglass frames, rayless flashlights and cranky implements by the hundreds. One time, he even made a house call to help out with a jammed door lock.
Stories abound of his all-around helpfulness. One bridge foursome, it is said, was discussing what to do first in the event of a home fire. ‘‘I’d call Sam Robinson,” one player said. The others agreed that was a good idea.
Then there was once a more delicate problem. A lady whose husband was away received an improper call from a supposed friend. She nervously reported it to her husband on his return. “And what did you do?” he asked. “I called Sam Robinson and told him all about it,” she said. “You did exactly right,” he assured her.
A Resort Too High Above the Clouds
Few if
any resorts in
For a generation of
travelers over the
Familiarity with its tower
and turrets has lived on, even if the elegant hotel for which they were raised
didn’t. Since 1964, the beautifully restored building has housed
In 1927 investors headed
by Paul B. Carter bought the site known as Jackson Hill on the Mountain from
Mrs. Mary Marquis Jackson Triplett, a daughter of C. C. Jackson who had settled
on nearby Frontier Bluff in 1856. The group announced plans to build a hotel
which would go a long way toward making
The R. H. Hunt Co. of
Chattanooga designed the building with the estimated cost set at $1,450,000.
Underwood Contracting Company of
With recently completed improvements in the Chattanooga-Birmingham highway expected to increase traffic by 1,000 automobiles a day, the owners were counting on a steady expansion of tourism sufficient to keep the resort operating at capacity.
Clayton Smallwood was the local contractor and he used a number of the older youth of the region as construction workers. William G. Raoul and Jac Chambliss were among those who labored under Bill Bennett as foreman, paid 30 cents an hour, 60 hours a week. Raoul had the task of laying out the tennis courts which he convinced his less sophisticated associates had to be oriented with the stars to be satisfactory.
The hotel had its grand opening in 1928. The sparkling setting, the swimming pool, the tennis courts, the dance pavilion under the stars, all gave promise of a great future. And for a time, the tourists came in impressive numbers while local residents began to use and praise the facilities. The Provident Life and Accident Insurance Company was one of the first to book the hotel for a convention of home and field employees.
Then came the Great Depression with its destructive impact. The tourist business fell off. The hotel’s appealing but off the beaten track location did not help. The pressure was too much and the establishment went under.
The Royal Indemnity Company,
which held the bonds, assumed control and closed the doors. As taxes mounted,
came due and past due, the State of
The investors first leased and then sold the hotel to S. J. Littlegreen for $200,000. Gambling facilities and liquor sales, neither legal at the time, were added to the attractions offered guests, and the hotel regained some patronage along with a slightly racy reputation. Most local residents who now remember frequenting its dining room and dance pavilion, however, speak primarily of innocent fun.
High on the list of pleasant recollections are of an evening spent dancing on the Patio under its fake moon. When the night air was too cool, the ladies would wrap the red checked tablecloths around their shoulders to ward off the chill.
Horses were stabled in a beautiful barn below the level of the main building, and riding on the well laid out trails became a favorite pastime for many. Today the barn serves as Covenant’s art department building.
Again the hotel closed its doors, unable to attract sufficient numbers of guests. It reopened once more in the ’50s as the Castle in the Clouds, no more successfully than before.
Gus Stone, who worked at the hotel in various capacities over most of the years of its operation, told an interviewer he had little doubt the building was home to ghosts. At one point in time when he was “looking after” the vacant property, he said, a crap game in the basement was interrupted by unearthly screams from the lobby level. The participants investigated with varying degrees of caution but, finding nothing, resumed the game. Immediately, the screams were heard again. This time, he said, the game broke up forever.
Stone said that even the property’s legal administrator, a prominent attorney of the area, claimed to have seen a woman leaning out a window in one of the erstwhile guest rooms. A search revealed nothing. And at another point, he related, he made sure that every door from the fifth floor down was closed. The next day, every door was found opened. And it happened more than once, he claimed.
Of course, he added, he doesn’t really believe in ghosts. But, still . . .
It was a shame that the
mines of the
Mr. Bennett, his wife
He was soon so enthralled
with the potential of the trade that he purchased the Lookout Souvenir Shop
from Noah H. Grady. And, although he never owned the
Mrs. Bennett said she
loved it but not as much as her husband. She stayed home and raised the
children — who themselves helped in the shop — while he spent his days, usually
from 8 to 8 at the places of business. When the property became available, the
family moved into the more spacious brown house which later became the
The Bennetts soon fell
into the routine of the souvenir business. Salesmen from
Actually, Mrs. Bennett
said, you really didn’t have to search them out—theyfound you. Especially was
this true of the talented people who lived further down
‘‘Souvenir season” as it came to be known usually ran from Memorial Day until Labor Day. As the Great Smokies increased their tourist appeal, the season was extended well into October. Salesladies from the back of Lookout, St. Elmo and downtown came to work in the shops, Mrs. Bennett said, mentioning three particularly dedicated helpers — Mrs. Jim Broadwater, wife of a mountain policeman; Mrs. Grace McGill and Miss Ida Lively.
The variety of goods was
wide. Hand-carved wooden churns, complete with dasher, were favorites, along
with salt and pepper shakers, and paper knivesto be used as letter openers. The
more elegant of these had tiny holes bored in their handles, into which the
ladies at the shop would tediously insert tiny ‘‘magnified scenes” (usually
made in
Beautiful Indian jewelry
of turquoise was always a big seller. Things that did NOT sell well in the
immediate postwar era were those marked “Made in
Mrs. Bennett’s nomination for the funniest (she even said the tackiest) items they ever sold were the nine to ten-inch rectangular trays, made with pine needle galleries surrounding glass bottoms covering sea shells. Although they were not to her liking, she said they sold like the proverbial hot cakes.
Another unusual item was a conch shell housing a Christmas tree light bulb. With the advent of the television age, it was said that one of the conchs placed atop the set would give just the proper level of light for viewing.
Many of the souvenir
plates were quite lovely, particularly the Staffordshireware, made on Mr.
Bennett’s order and imported from
Printed T-shirts, overseas
caps and
During the war, especially around Mother’s Day, servicemen flocked to the shops to buy the pillow tops. They were made of satin, in shades of blue, pink or gold, bordered with fringe, and carrying verses tender enough to bring lumps to the throat. One went this way:
M is for the million things you gave me O means that you’re only growing old T is for the tears you shed to save me H is for your heart of pure gold E is for your love eternal R is for the right you’ll always be
Put them all together, they spell MOTHER The word that means the world to me!
A popular feature of the
Another “best seller” — one not usually found in souvenir shops — was the wintertime hot meal prepared by Mrs. Bennett and served to tourists and townfolk alike. Menu items included such things as roast beef, turkey, green beans and potatoes. Ice cream was an after dinner treat.
Ice cold beer, long sold at both shops, was also a popular item. Mrs. Bennett, feeling that it might not be right to serve “alcoholic beverages,” spoke to John A. Chambliss about the matter. Mr. Chambliss, a Sunday school superintendent and then a member of the town commission, took it under advisement. Whether it was the “bug” Mrs. Bennett put in his ear or something else is not clear today, but shortly thereafter such sales ceased — and have never been resumed on the Tennessee side of Lookout Mountain.
Even on vacations the Bennetts lived and breathed souvenirs. On trips to far parts of this country as well as abroad, they would watch people “go crazy” over souvenirs of the particular region, saying to themselves, “What good customers these people are!”
Deciding he wanted to move
on to other things and have a little more time for his family, Mr. Bennett
leased his shop to Rock City for a few years and sold it to the organization
when he “officially” retired in November 1965. Mrs. Bennett said he never
really missed it, mainly because he kept in close touch with the new owners
until his death on
A veritable
Fairyland nestles among the rocks atop
It was no wave of a magic
wand that transformed this Mountain wilderness area into Fairyland. Several
prominent businessmen had gone to
O. B. Andrews and Garnet
Carter took an option on 700 acres running through
Messrs. Andrews and Carter devised a plan to sell the lots by drawing numbers from a hat. Each purchaser deposited $2,760 and then drew his lot number. With only a single week’s preliminary campaign of publicity the gates of Fairyland were thrown open to the buying public in December, 1924. On the very next day it was announced there had been 114 sales totalling in excess of $300,000. With these sales the work of installing water and electric lines was begun. The lots had been carefully laid out with many of the roads, named after fairy tale characters, already under construction.
Mrs. Carter designed and scaled 16 houses. These were mostly constructed of mountain stone, pine logs, and stucco. Each had its own name wrought in black iron and attached to their mailbox or the corner of the house. Many of these homes are still proudly displaying the original signs.
A hotel was built to make
the area more appealing to the new residents. The hotel, Fairyland Inn, was considered
one of the finest architectural develop-mentsofthe entire South. Itwasof Old
Englishdesign incorporating stucco and weathered mountain stone, and seems a
natural outgrowth of the broad ledge of rock on which is stands. Situated on
the East Brow and commanding a view into several states, it had 40 guest rooms
and one of the largest ballrooms in the South. Ten picturesque cottages, which
comprise
Goose rhyme character. The hotel is now Fairyland Club.
In 1924 Garnet Carter and
his wife Frieda acquired the wild ten acres which comprise
Mrs. Carter, a remarkable
woman in her own right, became intrigued with the wild beauty of the site long
before her husband did. She began doing “little things” at
Around 1930, Mr. Carter
became interested in her efforts and began to see the possibilities at
The Miniature That Grew and Grew
Intended as an elegant
centerpiece for the Fairyland residential development along the
Tennessee-Georgia border on
O. B. Andrews and Garnet
Carter were the developers of the area and they wanted the best. Warren H.
Manning, a renowned landscape architect from
The
Mr. Andrews sold his
interest in the development to Mr. Carter in 1926. Two years later, a cluster
of ten cottages known as
As with all fine
hostelries, the
As the originator conceived it, the course had dwarves, elves and fairies, as well as pipes and hoi-low logs, to delight and perhaps distract its players. They putted the ball on green-dyed cotton seed pulp over bridges, through tunnels and around rock formations, until it ultimately disappeared into an underground drain and ended up in the starter’s box.
And then it was time for everyone to stop by the Gingerbread House, so named after the delicious cake baked fresh and sold there every day. The site soon became a mecca for young and old, visitor and resident alike, at all hours of the day and early evening.
Miniature golf caught on
quickly with the general public. Mr. Carter joined forces with J. P. Young of
On
Carter established the Fairyland Manufacturing Company to make the miniature courses according to his specifications. A complete layout cost about
Of all the business
enterprises on
Henry Tarver took over the operation of the service center in 1948 and for the next 38 years catered to the needs, automative and otherwise, of literally hundreds of Mountain families. Henry retired and the station closed at the end of January 1986. The event was considered nothing less than a total disaster by customers, not because Henry was to get some much needed rest but because they could not envision the community without the services he and his staff rendered, in good weather and bad.
“ Henry is an institution,” lamented Margaret Bright who probably had known him longer than anyone else around. “ I love him and respect him tremendously.”
The sentiments were echoed in behalf of Henry and Mrs. Tarver, his business partner.
"He loves the customers he has here,” Mrs. Tarver said. ‘‘He enjoys the public.”
$1,000 and sold for
approximately double that amount. It was said that Fairyland Manufacturing was
one of the few companies in
For a couple of years, the
game was the rage of the country. During this time, Mr. Carter shipped
thousands of the courses to points throughout the
The Fairyland course, which had 24 holes, was in use for several years. But by 1958 only six holes remained and the course was closed, giving much needed room for tennis courts and parking areas.
Mr. Carter later sold the
After the Fairyland Golf
Club opened its golf course along
“I’ve enjoyed it,” Henry remarked to an interviewer. “I was satisfied here.”
While the service station’s main purpose of course was selling gasoline and such,thatwasnotby any means its only contact with its customers. There is scarcely a family who had not at onetime or another put in a call to Henry to report a battery gone dead, a tire completely flat or a car made immobile by snow or ice. Or, as has happened, a frantic appeal to see about “a snake in my garage.” Tarver’s Service answered them all.
Youths found out early that Henry’s men could fix bikes and patch tires to perfection. Balky lawn mower engines yielded to their touch quickly.
Memories of Henry go far
back. Susan Irvine, a classmate at
Dr. George Long, for years Henry’s pastor at the Lookout Mountain Presbyterian Church, told the Glascock Neighbor News Flashes a story dealing with ethical standards: “Several years ago, he and I considered selling a Cessna aircraft. ‘When we get it in top shape, we’ll sell,’ said Henry. I protested, thinking it more prudent to wait until it was ready to fall apart, then sell. ‘No,’ was Henry’s reply. ‘For the safety of the man who flies it next, we must have it in the very best condition’. . . a quiet rebuke to me, his preacher.”
The refurbished station was reopened in late 1986 as a Gulf service center under the proprietorship of Ladd Marshall.
Leo Lambert, an
His intention was to drill a vertical shaft, from halfway up the Mountain, to connect with the cave passageway, some 440 feet below. The drilling through solid rock was slow, averaging about five feet every 24 hours, but in December 1928, the jackham-mers broke through to a crawlway 18 inches high and five feet wide. Mr. Lambert and others began to explore the opening. Ittook awhile. They crawled 600 feet before reaching a vast room into which a waterfall poured from above.
Mr. Lambert named it
Paul Whisler, another Indianian, came to work for Mr. Lambert in 1935 as an associate in opening a scenic guide service to take sightseers to the top of the Mountain. In no time at all, he fell in love with Frances, the Lamberts’ daughter; they were married in 1936. Together they opened a souvenir shop, with an apartment above, at the Incline Halfway Station. Earl Estes furnished them with small carvings from the ample woods around.
In 1949, at the invitation
of Shirmer Brown, then president of
As most Lookout Mountain residents well know, the Top Shop is a treasure trove of gifts and gadgets with a host of ‘‘just the things” to present to the persnickiest of recipients.
But it didn’t start out in that direction, at all.
In 1950, the
Because of the sandstone
outcroppings along the old car track, which had its bed on Watauga, “Uncle
Pete”
Don and Ted Davis were
born on the Mountain but had moved to
Within a few years, he sold the business to Marge (Mrs. Earl) Clemons. She added a second room, finished the basement area for storage, and later built the detached office unit.
In the 30 years of her ownership, Marge made the Top Shop an essential part of the Mountain shopping patterns, for anniversaries, for birthdays or just for fun. Christmas shopping was not complete for many residents without a stop for hot tomato soup and cheese straws at the TS.
After her death in 1984,
the shop was sold to Happy Baker and Susan Yates who, with Katherine Womble,
continue to keep up a very important part of
Most business enterprises
on
The Lookout Mountain Cleaners was incorporated in 1952 with States Rights Finley a major stockholder. It was sold in 1957 to Mr. and Mrs. Charles Tucker who operated it for more than 20 years.
In 1979, their son,
Charles Jr., became the owner of the establishment which by that time had six
employees in its
us Stone, who has moved around
The focal point, of course, was the Lookout Mountain Hotel with its 200 rooms and magnificent view. Mr. Gus knew the place first as a child allowed by its manager, William Bennett, to wander through its halls in the off season, and later as an employee in various capacities.
The hotel in its earliest
years attracted guests from all over the
All sorts of experiences
befell him during his years of association with the hotel. He well remembers
the elderly couple from
One time, he recalls, he
caught a ride with a flight instructor from a
Mr. Gus remembers, too, the conversation he had with a lady of perhaps 80, confined to a wheelchair, and her companion, a man of about 35 or 40. On the trip to the airport at the end of their visit, the man said he had lost $800 playing blackjack at the hotel, but that he really didn’t mind because the dealer was one of the sharpest he had ever seen. He watched over her shoulder for a long time, he said, and could never spot anything at all questionable about her handling of the deal.
At the airport, Mr. Gus bade them farewell, saying to the man. “I hope you and your mother enjoyed yourselves.” The man said, “Mother, hell. That’s my wife.” Or so it is engraven in Stone!
The Patio was a favorite
place for dancing, attracting both the guests of the hotel and local residents.
There, he said, you could dance to your heart’s content under the real stars
and an artificial moon, buy mixed drinks and pay 50 cents for a glass of water.
Mr. Gus said it was his job to close the place at
The hotel was not the only
place where one might watch the turn of a card or the roll of dice with great
interest. The Stardust Club (laterto serve afar different purpose as Our Lady
of the
Mr. Gus remembers the time
a hotel guest from a neighboring
On a site now occupied by
the
It was said that the operator of the place liked to watch closely as people repeatedly dropped coins in the slot machines, then walk away if they didn't win. He would then go over and put coins in until the machine “hit.” If the machines didn’t pay 10/90, Mr. Gus said, the owner would take them out and “repair them.”
“ I wouldn't drink it any more. It’d take the paint right off your automobile!”
Thus sayeth a man who knows whereof he speaks.
He is Gus Stone — “Mr.
Gus” to a generation of
Mr. Gus was only nine when
he moved here with his family from
In the ’30s, Mr. Gus
thought he was old enough to go into the business himself. Stills were numerous
on the Mountain. There were two or three in the
Operators didn’t take
their whiskey making lightly. It was a way of life and most of them made a
pretty fair living at it. The movie “
At a “business establishment” on the side of the Mountain, he said in an interview with Pat Persinger, Mr. Gus found himself in charge of stoking the fire to keep steam up in the “six horse” boiler. The operation was in a “normal looking” three-bedroom house, large enough for the workers to move around their stored wares. When they decided to move to another location, they simply loaded up the components of the still, pulled up the floorboards of the house and let the ’shine run down the slope toward St. Elmo. During the time they rented the house, Mr. Gus said, the police apparently were unaware of what was going on inside, so they were never disturbed by the law.
Another location Mr. Gus worked was at Old Salem where he and the late Jesse Clark transported a load of sugar and a load of corn meal every week to keep two big steam outfits in operation. It was during this time that Gus barely escaped a brush with the law by a friend who ran for miles to warn that the still had been spotted. Jesse called Gus “chicken” and proceeded to walk right into the arms of the revenuers and into jail while Gus remained as free as a bird.
Asked about his clientele, Mr. Gus said most of them had gone on to their reward but he still didn’t want to mention any names. There were some good customers around in the residential areas, he said, one of whom used to send his big fine car regularly to pick up five-gallon lots. Every pay day, he said, he would deliver several jugs to fellows at the old car barn.
At one time many years
ago, he remembered, the golf club served locally made liquor at its bar. He
said he didn’t know the source since he was not the supplier. His route
included not only
Cummings Highway who — as might be expected — built up quite a business selling three pints for a quarter.
Mr. Gus said as far as he knows moonshining is basically a thing of the past, and he is pretty sure there are not any stills left on the back of the mountain. The last product he bought, he said, was two gallons of rye about ten years ago. The manufacture of whiskey at still sites reached a peak in the Prohibition era, experienced a resurgence in the war years when tax-paid liquor was at a premium, and then faded out of the picture when the rising price of sugar and heightened enforcement efforts made moonshine as expensive as legal brands.
Mr. Gus shared with his interviewer “the pure facts” of howto get 11 gallons of GOOD whiskey: You started with 100 pounds of sugar and six bushels of corn meal placed in large wooden boxes and left to sour. Then you put a cap over the pot where the mixture was boiled. The resulting steam was sent through a “thumper keg” and a “worm” (copper coil) for condensation. The first condensate was very high proof but was cut by adding spring water. The finished product, when he was busiest, he said, was bottled and sold for $5 a gallon.
Mr. Gus, whose 70th
birthday occasioned a big celebration at the
A Look to the Future:
Every city has a past, a present and a future. The past is gone, the present is here and the future is what the citizens make it.
—Zell a Armstrong
This book is a celebration of our past. The present is an exciting bridge to our future. The future is an unknown waiting for us to shape it.
What is the future of
In this year of Homecoming, so many people will reflect on just what Lookout iMountain means to them. One might feel it is a great place to live — a really unique place lin which to be. Another might answer it’s a wonderful place to raise children.
Maybe the future of the Mountain really lies in its children. So many “children of the Mountain” have consciously and continually chosen to stay or to come back home to raise their families.
The sense of pride in community seems to come naturally to children as they grow. These stirrings should be encouraged and nurtured. They should be reminded of the Mountain’s interesting and valuable past. And as each grows to adulthood, their collective sense of pride and appreciation of history will help to shape the direction of the Mountain’s future.
If residents of the
Mountain continually use the past and the present to nurture “children of all
ages,” Lookout Mountain could never be anything but — as so many children have
put it — “a really neat place to live.”
This book about
For historical purposes,
primary reliance has been placed upon the published works of Gilbert Govan,
James Livingood, Robert Sparks Walker and John Wilson, with contemporary
accounts from the files of
Special appreciation is expressed to Harriet and Hardwick Caldwell, co-chairmen of the Tennessee Homecoming ’86 Committee for Lookout Mountain, and to Peggy Kovacevich and William Raoul, co-chairmen of the history committee, for their continuing support; to Brian Smith, town counsel, for guidance in the legal aspects of publication; to Mrs. James Caldwell, for generously providing the project with working space; to the T. H. Payne Co. for provision of office equipment and supplies; to Jim and Liz Aplin for their striking cover design; to The Chattanooga Times and the Chattanooga News-Free Press, for free access to news and photographic files; to the Local History Department of the Chattanooga-Hamilton County Bicentennial Library staff for its cordial assistance in research efforts and in collecting early photographs.
Contributors through writing or research assistance, taking pictures or providing priceless photographs of an earlier era, in addition to those given notice elsewhere in the text, were as follows:
Mimi Beasley, Mary Bishop, Susan Bradley, Margaret Brock, Elizabeth T. Brown, William G. Brown, Elisabeth Bryan, Dyer Butterfield, Harriet Caldwell, Marian Caldwell, Josephine Campbell, McCoy Campbell, Bill Caulkins, Emmy Casey, Caroline Cavett;
Jac Chambliss, Jeanne Chambliss, Charles Colburn, Garvin Colburn, Virginia Col-more, Jeanne Crawford, Denny Crowe, Mary Crutchfield, Harry Daugherty, Hilda Davis, Jean Evans, Laura Evans, Helen Exum, Kinchen Exum, Roy Exum, John C. Ford, Rowena Frierson, Peg Gifford, Sara Glascock, Shirley Grant, Anne Hall, Owene Hall, Lou Harris, Chris and Wayne Gilley, Sara Hooper;
Dorothy Kennedy, Suzanne Kent, Katherine Rickman, Peggy Kovacevich, John Killebrew, Margaret Killebrew, Georgia Lawrence, Reuben Lawrence, Willie Lawrence, Ellen K. LeVan, Mary B. Lynch, Charlotte Maclellan, Kitty Maclellan, Barbara Massey, Baird McClure, Tallulah McGee, William F. McGinness, Sadie Thomas Mickle, Roberta T. Miles, Marie Miller, Peggy Milligan, Martha S. Milligan, Alice W. Milton;
Carrington Montague, Anne Opfer, Pat Persinger, Kit Raoul, William G. Raoul, Sara Lee Red, Walter Red, Garnette Rice, Bob Salyer, Jean Salyer, Rachel Scott, Nick Senter, Jesse Sims, Kim L. Strang, Tena Thomas Suggs, Katie Taff, Richard Thatcher, Neil Thomas Jr., Jane Verlenden, Gail Voges, Dorris Wells, Marilyn Williams.
-The Editors
Not THE END
Just a