USA > Georgia > Floyd County > Rome > A history of Rome and Floyd County, State of Georgia, United States of America; including numerous incidents of more than local interest, 1540-1922, Volume I > Part 40
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"We came around to West Rome again. This time we were nearer Shorter College. The girls outside were taking exercise. We could discern that plainly. They stopped to wave their hands as we sailed overhead.
"Then I recognized the circus ring of the Coosa Golf course, and saw a tiny trough of water which I knew was the swimming pool. The club house seemed entirely concealed by a tiny bunch of green bushes. Then over the cemetery we flew. The cemetery seem- ed flat and scattered with broken china. The extreme summit, where stands the Confederate monument, re- sembled a nicely browned dough-nut. Then over the Etowah River, a narrow winding strip of brown ribbon, laid in green velvet. I saw the perfect Y where the two rivers form the Coosa.
"I was trying to place a certain queer- looking red brick house, and discovered it was the courthouse, and one inch away from it was Broad Street. None of the blocks in Rome appeared over one inch square. Around we circled again. The third time we came over Shorter we sailed at a low altitude. The girls were wearing white middies and blue bloomers; they looked up and shouted. We were closer than ever before. Then around again. This time above the fair grounds. Towers Field with its big white T could be seen plainly. We were approaching from East Rome. We were getting lower and lower, and just like a huge bird with out-stretched wings we sailed down smoothly, without a bobble, land- ed in the upper end of the field, and like the same big bird, hopped along the field, until two of the mechanics who had signaled a safe landing ran up and _swung themselves on the wings. The engine stopped and we were down. The taking off and the landing, which I had always heard was most difficult, was the easiest, smooth- est part of the entire flight."
Miss Bessie took part in a more in- teresting and thrilling episode Jan. 17, 1920-her flight from the state of sin- gle blessedness. Major Lawrence S. Churchill, U. S. A., aspired to be the pioneer in an airplane romance that would thrill Rome. He started in an airplane from Souther Field, Ameri- cus, with Lt. Perry W. Blackler as pilot. In an accompanying plane were Lieut. Wolfe, of the aforementioned
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ROME AS VIEWED FROM AN AIRPLANE.
A daredevil aviator came buzzing over Rome in the spring of 1921. He was on his way to Texas and was willing to carry up a few passengers for the price of his gasoline. David A. Sparks flew and got some snaps. We see the Municipal Building, the business section, Myrtle Hill Cemetery (in center), the wings of the plane and Shorter College through them, and lastly, the beautiful Etowah.
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flight, and Sergeant Jones. The last- named pair landed at Towers Field, where they were received by City Com- missioner Ike May, with the keys of the city, and by a curious crowd. The other machine encountered unfavorable winds and was forced to land at King- ston, whence the remainder of the trip was made by Maj. Churchill in an au- tomobile. Lieut. Blackler flew the plane to Rome on Saturday morning of the wedding, and although the at- mospheric conditions were unfavorable, he thrilled the bride with a series of barrel rolls over her apartments at the home of Miss Camilla Fouche. Mr. Blackler was killed at Souther Field, Americus, May 10, 1920, when the wings of his German Fokker machine came off while he was executing one of these same aerial contortions.
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THE BOYS IN GRAY .- The recent story by Bessie Moore Churchill in the History Series on the Rome Light Guards in the Civil War was read by a good many people, but by none more appreciatively, perhaps, than Frank Stovall Roberts, a cousin of Judge Joel Branham, who wrote from Apartment 312, "The Cordova," Washington, D. C., under date of January 7, 1921:
"Thank you very much for the story of the Rome Light Guards. Many of the names given in the article are quite familiar to me. I knew many of them, a few having been my school- mates, though older than myself, back in 1855, 1856 and 1857. Geo. W. Fleet- wood was one of them who went to Mr. Stevens' school in these years. (Mr. Fleetwood died last fall in Okla- homa and was buried in Myrtle Hill cemetery, Rome. - Editor). Virgil ('Virge') Stewart was another. H. D. Cothran and "Coon" Mitchell also attended this school.
"I do not recall Captain Magruder, who took the company to Virginia, but I remember, as a boy, Miss Florence Fouche, whom he married. I recall many members of that company: Mel- ville Dwinell, Geo. R. Lumpkin, Wil- liam ('Bill') Skidmore, Dr. J. M. Greg- ory (as memory serves, he married a sister of Mrs. Daniel S. Printup) ; R. D. DeJournett, F. M. Ezzell (he married Miss Lena Sherwood, of Ma- con, lived in Macon after the war and then went to Atlanta) ; A. R. Johnson, Chas. B. and George C. Norton, W. F. (Bill) Omberg (went to Mr. Stevens' school, and after the war lived in Louisville, Ky.) ; A. R. (Arch) Pem- berton, 'Zach' Hargrove, M. A. Ross,
Geo. T. Stovall (my cousin) ; Henry A. Smith (he kept a book store before and after the war; I met him once early in the eighties) ; F. M. Stovall (my cousin, went from Athens to Virginia and joined the Light Guards) ; Chas. H. Smith ('Bill Arp'), Scott Hardin, and others. Clinton Hargrove was another one I knew. He was a friend of my half-brother, Wm. A. ('Bill') Roberts.
"This story brings up memories of a handsome, gallant and brave lot of young men in Rome. I doubtless knew many more than are named, but nearly 64 years have passed since I lived in Rome.
"The Light Guards had their first taste of fighting at Firt Manassas, Va., July 21, 1861. The Eighth Georgia, under the gallant Francis Bartow, who was killed there, covered itself with glory and gave up many of its best members, including Charlie Norton, Geo. T. Stovall and 'Clint' Hargrove.
"These recollections are very inter- esting, with a tinge of sadness to those who knew and were associated with these boys long ago. I daresay I am one of the very few of that day who are now living to recall them."
Mr. Roberts was among the boys of Rome who sent their older brothers and cousins off to war with a shout and who stayed behind and helped their families care for still younger ones .- Jan. 12, 1921.
A LETTER FROM THE FRONT. -- James Madison Gartreli, younger brother of Gen. Lucius J. Gartrell and Capt. Henry A. Gartrell (of Rome), wrote Mrs. J. D. Thomas, then Miss Mary Fort, under date of April 21, 1864, from Dalton. (Mr. Gartrell, it will be recalled, was an uncle of Henry W. Grady).
"I hope in my next to be able to give the details of a grand battle which re- sulted in the overthrow of Sherman's and Thomas' armies which will tend to a speedy termination of this unholy, unwise and unpleasant war . .. You need have no fears as to the safety of Rome. Those sacred hills will never be polluted by the foul tread of the Yankee soldiery until our army is crushed, which to accomplish Sherman with his present force is quite inade- quate.
"The little tobacco bag you gave me is now in daily use. I have quit chew- ing and learned to smoke a pipe.
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"You say you were expecting Henry Gartrell in Macon on the 8th. I should like to hear from the gentleman. If he is as prompt in the discharge of his military duties as he is in answering letters, he must be a splendid soldier. I don't see how Forrest has succeeded so well without him!"
J. M. Gartrell was killed a short time later at New Hope church, near At- lanta.
Capt. Henry A. Gartrell wrote Mary Fort January 1, 1865, from Johnson's Island, Ohio, where he was a prisoner of war:
"A happy new year to you. I was captured near Nashville on the morn- ing of the 17th ultimo. I was cut off, made a desperate effort to escape on the night of the 16th by running over the Federal pickets. At least 20 shots were fired at me from not more than 20 to 100 yards, but with the exception of a wound to my horse and a ball through my coat, they did no harm to me. I am going to write to Gen. For- rest in a day or two asking him to pro- cure a special change for me.
"I employ my time reading and vis- iting my friends and acquaintances on this ice-bound island. Major Printup is very well. He hasn't heard from home in five months. I never saw a braver soldier than Dick Fort. He and Joe Stillwell could not be beaten the world over. I don't know whether any of my men were captured or not."- Sept. 16, 1921.
WHO ARE THEY ?- The following letter has been handed us by Col. Stew- art, for publication. The name of the writer we suppress for obvious rea- sons.
"Mr. STEWARD.
"As you is the Mar- shal of this town I thoght I would tell you how I am treated. My husband is lying sick and one of my children to an yesterdy my cow dide, I had to come to town to git a little mele an when I was gone some boys from rome went huntin up the River and found my ducks an shot um-two of um dide this morning an one never come home yit and I ant got but one drake just by his self, a friend of mine said thay was three boys one boy was a big hi boy, and one was a little boy and one was a short thick set boy. if you can find out who was the boys tell them to pay me for the ducks as I have a mity hard time to git along. ant mad much about it only I can't aford to loose my
ducks after the cow dide and the fam- ily so sick. please hunt up the boys and tell them how it stands and how pore I am. Respectfully,
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Col. Stewart informs us he has "hunted up the boys," and knows who they are, and requests us to say that unless they fully remunerate this poor woman for the injury they have done her, he will give their names to the public next week. We hope a sense of justice will prompt them to do this, and that such a case may never hap- pen again in a thousand miles of Rome.
"TAKEN IN AND DONE FOR."- A young gambler from an adjoining county, who had made up a game of "seven up," in Rome last week, and desired a secret room to play in, was admirably accommodated at the sug- gestion of our City Marshal, Col. Stew- art. The gamester expressed his want in the presence of Col. S., who is a bit of a wag and loves a practical joke as well as any one, and he gave a slight wink to the person enquired of, and at the same time handed him the key of the Calaboose. The contract was soon made for the use of a small office, of which the gentleman, at that time, had the control, takes the gamester and his friends to the Calaboose- opens the door-and just then hap- pens to think that he has no matches, and he requests the young novice to remain there until he can go and get them. This he consents to do, and they all step out and lock the door after them and leave him there to play sol- itaire in the dark, until next morning. We hope this game will prove to be a profitable one to the young man .- Weekly Courier, Feb. 28, 1866. *
"PARSON" WINN'S "HELPING HAND."-Rev. Genuluth Winn was an old settler who "rode the circuit" of the Methodist church in the Coosa Valley during the Indian days.
Dr. Winn was noted for his aggres- siveness in practical business affairs as well as the work of the Lord. He came to Floyd County with the early inhabitants and either bought or drew by lottery large tracts of land in and around Cave Spring, and lived on one of them five miles south of Rome on the Cave Spring road, where he owned many slaves. He was exempt from miitary service and went among the Confederate sodiers exhorting them to express their divine faith by slaying Yankees.
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The following story is told of his response to a call for help from a brother of the Methodist persuasion:
D. R. Mitchell, a pillar in the First Methodist church, then located at Sixth Avenue and East Second Street, had picked a hardy settler or two to run his ferries where the eccentric char- acter known to the Indians as the "Widow Fool" had run them some fif- teen years before, at the forks of the rivers of Rome. One day a ferry- man went to Colonel Mitchell with the story that the "strong-arm" men of a rival pioneer had seized the ferries and driven off the Mitchell men. The old Colonel grabbed his stout hickory stick, called to the ferryman to follow, and gathering up a number of his sup- porters, charged the invaders on the ferry boat. The fight proved fast and furious. Reinforcements, including a number of half-drunken Indians, hav- ing also reached the other side, the Mitchell crowd were about to be worsted, when along happened Rev. Genuluth Winn in a buggy drawn by a somewhat broken-down pony, want- ing to cross the river.
Seeing Rev. Dr. Winn, Col. Mitchell yelled, "Help, Bro. Winn! If you never did anything for the Lord and D. R. Mitchell, do it now!"
Dr. Winn sprang out of the buggy seized a long pole from the bank, and handled it so dexterously that in little more time than it takes to tell it he had knocked all of Colonel Mitchell's enemies, including the Indians, into the river, and Col. Mitchell had the ferry for keeps.
A SAILOR'S ODD "CRUISE."-A touching story is told of a lieutenant of the United States navy who lies buried in Myrtle Hill cemetery. Bayard E. Hand, a step-son of Col. Nicholas J. Bayard, had just graduated from the naval academy at Annapolis, Md., when he fell in love with a beautiful young lady of Virginia. His court- ship resulted in an early wedding and the honeymoon was spent in the Old Dominion. The budding young officer was on 30-day leave, at the ex- piration of which he bade his bride farewell and rejoined his ship, which immediately sailed for South America.
While Lieut. Hand was on his trip, his wife came to visit Col. and Mrs. Bayard at Rome, anticipating that he would return ere long. The ship tied up at Wilmington, N. C., and the of- ficer hurried to Rome to rejoin his young wife. His second leave being
up, he departed for Wilmington. In some manner he had contracted pneu- monia, and on July 16, 1855, he died at that city. Out of respect for the wishes of Col. and Mrs. Bayard, the Hands agreed that he should be buried in Myrtle Hill cemetery at Rome. Col. Bayard had his tombstone engraved with navy characters, and there he lay in peace several years.
Soon came the Civil War, and in 1864 a band of Sherman's men, read- ing that Lieut. Hand had been in the service of the United States, decided they would send him to a "better land." They dug up the coffin and expressed it to the National cemetery at Arling- ton, Va., across the Potomac River from Washington. This high-handed procedure did not suit the fiery Col. Bayard, who after the war went north and brought the body back to Rome at an expense to himself of $300.
An appropriate line decorates the sailor's tomb: "The anchor of his soul was faith in Christ."
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REMINISCENCES OF 1886 .- The late B. I. Hughes wrote in The Rome News of Dec. 10, 1920, as follows con- cerning the experience the First Na. tional Bank had in the flood of March- April, 1886:
"At that time we had $55,000 in paper money in the vault, in $5,000 packages, each package containing ten $500 packages. We opened the safe, and found that notwithstanding the water had seeped through two combina- tions, these packages were so covered with muck that you would not have known they contained money. We washed them off just as we would if they had been brick, and then the ques- tion was as to how we would treat the wet currency.
"Finally, we hit upon the plan of building a big fire in the grate and setting in front of it, on a slant, a piece of glass, about three by four feet. The glass was soon hot and we opened up the packages and placed the separate bills on it. The space would take about the number of bills that were in each $500 package, and the heat of the glass and fire was suffi- cient to dry them out as rapidly as we could place them.
"The result was that in less than an hour, we had dry currency that we could use, and as far as I can re- member, not a single dollar had to be sent to the treasury department. The year's business, as we have before
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stated, was perhaps the most prosper- ous that Rome ever saw.
"Altogether, within a week's time, our business was running practically as smooth as before. Wasn't this a wonderful outcome for such condi- tions ?"
TO ARMS, ROMANS !- There may be more modern speakers than our friend Mrs. Beulah S. Moseley, but few can serve up an introduction better. It fell to Mrs. Moseley's lot to intro- duce Judge Max Meyerhardt to the League of Women Voters, (Mrs. An- nie Freeman Johnson, president), and she said in effeet the following:
"I well remember an introduction which Judge Meyerhardt gave to Judge Branham at a meeting of the women of the Order of Eastern Star. 'Ladies,' he said, 'we welcome you to our city with open arms, which is with me merely a figure of speech, but with my young companion Judge Branham is a matter of action.'
"So I say to Judge Meyerhardt that the women voters welcome him in the same fashion. With me that is a fig- ure of speech, but with our lovely president, !"-Rome News, Dec. 10, 1920.
ANECDOTES OF MAJOR DENT. -Maj. Jno. H. Dent lived at Big Ce- dar Creek, Vann's Valley, two miles north of Cave Spring, and for quite a number of years contributed articles on farming and poultry to Northern agricultural journals and to Southern newspapers. Once upon a time, a Pennsylvania farmer, who had been reading the Major's wise rules for farming, visited Rome and took a hack down to Vann's Valley. The haekman stopped and announced that Maj. Dent lived up the hill in the two-story brick house. The traveler expressed some doubt that the Major resided there (for nothing out of the ordinary was grow- ing), but he went to the door and knocked.
"Is this Major Dent?" inquired the visitor.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I came down from near Phila- delphia to see your chicken runs."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I haven't got any chicken runs or chickens either."
"But I've been reading your advice on chickens for several years."
"Oh, I don't write for myself, but for the other fellow!"
Walter D. Wellborn, formerly of New Orleans, now of Atlanta, and brother of M. B. Wellborn, relates how he visited his grandfather Dent many years ago as a boy. Young Walter wanted to go over and see Col. Benj. C. Yancey, a neighbor, and asked his grandfather if he didn't want to go too. "No, son," replied Maj. Dent. admire Col. Yancey very much, but he can talk a saint out of patience."
Walter went over and met Col. Yan- cey, who was superintending the erec- tion of a barn.
"How is your grandfather getting along, my boy?" asked the colonel.
"He's doing all right, thank you."
"Well, I am very fond of Major Dent, but he bores me to death; he could talk the wings off of an angel."
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PAT CONWAY AND THE "GOAT."- Patrick Conway, said to be residing in Texas, was a well-known and efficient tinner of Rome. In 1890 he contracted to repair the stove in the hall of Cherokee Lodge No. 66 in the Masonic Temple, and also to fix the roof so the weather would not beat down upon the assembled brethren. He was due to start the job one morning, but decided he could mend the stove at night and thus save time. Climbing the long stairway with a repair kit, he opened the lodge room door, when out dashed a white object like a streak of greased lightning, upsetting the stove and sending clinkers and soot all over the floor. The stovepipe must have hit Pat, for he emerged with some fine smudges of soot. It was not known which got to Broad Street first-the biped or the quadruped-but neither hit the stairs many times coming down. Pat lost his hat and didn't stop until he had reached a corner light, there to "review" himself.
It is said Pat never went back for his tools, nor did he mount the roof to complete his undertaking. Asked why by a committee from the Lodge, he said, "Faith, I never bargained for to be chased out by the bloody goat! And now, begorra, he will nivver be caught again, and you will be foriver blamin' me!"
The "goat" was a white bird dog left in the hall by a hunter member.
A RELIC OF LONG AGO .- Floyd County has a "show place," now some- what in a state of disrepair, that in some respects suggests Barnsley Gar-
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dens in the neighboring county of Bar- tow. On a ridge about a mile north of Silver Creek Station, Southern rail- way, near Lindale, is a residence built like they used to build them: cement walls two feet thick, rooms approxi- mately 50 feet square, including re- ception and ball rooms, and a barn in keeping with the rest. It was the property of Elmer E. Kirkland, of Schenectady, N. Y. Rumor had it that the mansion and the beautiful and ex- tensive grounds would be converted into a country club, but the place was recently acquired by Will Collins, de- veloper of Collinwood Park, East Rome's residence subdivision, and will probably be used for manufacturing purposes.
GEMS FROM "UNCLE STEVE." -Steve Eberhart, the slavery time dar- key whose gyrations around Confed- erate veterans' reunions with live chickens under his arm always stir up the ebullitions of guilty bystanders and others, yesterday submitted to an interview as he filled a place in the picket line at their meeting at the Carnegie Library.
"Steve, how does your corporosity seem to segashuate?"
STEVE EBERHART, an old slave who was Henry Grady's valet in college at Athens and is now mascot of the Veterans.
"Fine as split silk," promptly re- turned Steve, who had borrowed that expression in Cedartown.
"Well, Steve, do you suppose your opsonic index would coagulate should the Republican administration at Washington send down here and try to get you to accept an office?"
"It mout, boss, but dere ain't no chance to git dis here Steve to 'cept no place wid dem folks."
"Wouldn't you like to represent your country in the jungles of Africa?"
"Lordy, boss, I's skeered enuf o' de varmints we have right here around Rome. And as fer dem cannibalists, you sholy don't ketch dis old nigger furnishin' de bones for none o' dat missionary stew. Naw, sir, I's bleeged to decline with profound deliberation. Dem 'publieans jes' want de nigger's vote. Steve Eberhart's a lily white Democrat, Steve is!"-Aug. 7, 1921.
Steve Eberhart, the ancient Sene- gambian who dresses up in flags and feathers, mostly just before Confeder- ate reunion time, has written a card in which he pours out his libations of joy and gratitude to the "white folks" for their generosity in giving him enough money to attend the state meeting at Albany.
Steve hopes the fountain of satis- faction may overflow for his friends and the wax tapers burn brightly on high, while he stews in the sacred unc- tion here below .- May 16, 1921.
"I want to thank the good white people of Rome for sending me to Texas to the Old Soldiers' Reunion. I am thankful. I shall ever remain in my place, and be obedient to all the white people. I pray that the angels may guard the homes of all Rome, and the light of God shine upon them. I will now give you a rest until the re- union next year, if the Lord lets me live to see it. Your humble servant, Steve Eberhart."-1920.
ONE WEEK A ROMAN .- Harry A. Etheridge, Atlanta lawyer, once said goodbye to Rome after a brief stay. His folks were living on the old Sequoyah "ranch" at Alpine, Chat- tooga County, when he finished his studies at the University of Virginia. He came home; no opportunity, and wise heads advised him to seek his for- tune in Rome. That was about 1891. He became connected with the law of- fiee of Capt. Christopher Rowell and
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was doing a thriving business for one so young, until something happened, a week later.
Mr. Etheridge's uncle, Wmn. J. Northen, was governor at the time. He mentioned the connection to Capt. Rowell, who said, "That's fortunate; I should like to fill a judgeship va- cancy. You go to Atlanta and see what a high recommendation you can give me.'
The young lawyer agreed; went to see his uncle at the capitol in Atlanta, and presented Capt. Rowell's attain- ments with the eloquence of a com- mencement orator. He also shook hands with some Atlanta lawyer
friends. The result was that Capt. Rowell did not land the judgeship, but Harry Etheridge landed in Atlanta, and has been there ever since.
TRIBUTE TO A PRINCE .- A young lawyer, a highly eligible bache- lor named Eli S. Shorter, Jr., son of the war-time Governor of Alabama, and nephew of Col. Alfred Shorter, came to Rome perhaps 50 years ago from Eufaula, Ala., to practise his profession. He was a tall, handsome, dashing fellow-a social lion as well as a clever barrister-and he became immensely popular. His acquaintance was wide geographically and many were the invitations which the post- man brought to him from out of town, as well as from around the corner.
One day he died of pneumonia, and thus were the hearts of his friends put to the test, nor did they waver. Three beautiful young women appear- ed in Rome from different points- Augusta, Macon, Athens; representa- tives of some of the state's leading families they were, nor were they of his kith and kin. All donned mourn- ing as preparations were made to send him home; all softened their grief through their tears; and one, more ingenious than her sorrowing sis- ters, lifted the lid of the coffin and put something in. It was a lock of her hair.
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