Presley Jones Takes on the Yankees

Welcome to the Piedmont Chronicles! Thanks for visiting. For my About Covington to Madison readers who are wanting to read about the Moore's Ford Bridge killings, I now have a link to a dedicated page for it at the top of the main page, or you can get to it here. 


As always, thanks for reading. Until next time... 



Presley Jones Takes on the Yankees

~From the April 2012 edition of About Covington to Madison Magazine~

Greetings! Good to be back with everybody. I was so glad that so many of you enjoyed the last column on Mr. Buster Chadwick. I got a lot of positive feedback on that one. Thanks so much! As always, I appreciate you reading and taking the time to comment.

I had previously mentioned that I was going to be concentrating more on human-interest stuff and less on historical things, but…what can I say? Like a moth to the flame—I just can’t help myself! There are so many things that I’ve mentioned in passing (or not at all) that I’d like to expound on. With that said, I will still be doing some more of the human-interest writings in the near future, but I will also be sticking to my historical roots. This month we’ll cover a topic I had mentioned briefly in my Covington column from the Summer of 2009. Hope you enjoy!

In July of 1864, well in advance of his famous march to the sea, Sherman had directed Brig. General Kenner Garrard to ride east from Atlanta and head to Covington with his cavalry division to start tearing up railroad tracks; destroying bridges, rail cars, depots, and locomotives; and burning stores and commercial properties. He actually wrote the following in a letter to Garrard: “…but of private property only take what is necessary for your own use, except horses and mules, of which you will take all that are fit for service, exercising of course, some judgment as to the animals belonging to the poor and needy.”

On July 21 Garrard left Atlanta and proceeded to Lithonia, GA where he started destroying the railroads and moving east at a pretty good clip. On July 22 Garrard and his raiders entered Covington. After having no resistance throughout their journey, I’m sure the Yankees were caught off guard when they came across an old man by the name of Presley Jones. Jones lived on what is now known as Washington St . and apparently had a “hatred of everything blue” and had vowed to kill the first Union troops to come into Covington . When word started to get out that Federal troops were advancing on Covington, Mr. Jones grabbed his rifle and hunkered down in front of the Covington courthouse. When he spotted his first Yankee he fired and killed the man. He then moved to another location and brought down another Union soldier a short time later. He was able to wound two more before he was captured and shot. The Yankees then proceeded to “beat out his brains with the butts of their rifles. He doubtless anticipated such a fate and went coolly to certain death with no hope of fame and with only the satisfaction of getting two for one (Sgt. Walter Clark, C.S.A.).”

Unfortunately, the “two for one” deal would not stand. According to multiple sources, it was widely believed that the Yankees were so infuriated with what had happened that they decided to find another victim to placate their revenge. It just so happened that a Confederate quartermaster by the name of George Daniel was on furlough and back home in Covington during this time. The Union troops tracked Daniel down and court-martialed and executed him. According to reports, the Yankees tried to blindfold him but he refused, saying “no, a Confederate soldier can face death without being blindfolded.” He was shot and killed and the count was evened—two dead Yankees; two dead Covingtonians.

Well, we all know the rest of the story. A few months later and Sherman would come through on his way to Savannah and the War Between the States would draw to a close just a few months after that. The shootings carried out by Mr. Jones and the subsequent retaliation by the Yankees would be the only warfare that Covington would see within her city limits during the Civil War.

Hope you enjoyed that. Future columns will cover more specific, historical events in Covington, Madison, and the surrounding areas. In the non-historical vein, I'll be rolling out a column about another musical talent from our area. And finally, after a lengthy delay, my installment series on the Moore's Ford Bridge killings will be up and running on my blog by the time you read this column. There will be a link at the top of the main page. Until next time... 

 

The Ballad of Buster Chadwick

 ~from the March 2012 edition of About Covington to Madison magazine~

The story of Buster Chadwick, a Newton Co. resident, is a fascinating tale of a man and his music; a very interesting life that coincided with the development of Country & Western music as the major, established genre that it would later become.

Mr. Buster's story starts in Sulphur Springs, AL in 1929 where he and his Mother lived until his Grandfather passed away in 1939. Apparently, somebody had mentioned that you were to shoot a gun three times to honor the recently deceased. So naturally, to a ten year old boy, this seemed like the thing to do. He got a gun but actually loaded it twice and then used a stick to pull the trigger. The gun popped back and knocked Buster down. As he later said, “It's a wonder I'm alive today.”

He and his Mother would later move to Rising Fawn, GA and it was there that Buster got his first guitar and started to develop his love for music and singing. At this time, there was a show called “The Grand Pappy Show”on an AM radio station coming out of Tennessee that featured music ranging from Chet Atkins to The Louvin Brothers. It was this show that would light the fire of Buster's musical passions. He was also a huge fan of The Carter Family as well. Soon thereafter, he got his first guitar and hit the ground running.

He decided to quit school in the 8^th grade in order to pursue music full-time. His first regular gig was at a venue called the Wagon Wheel where he played every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday evening making a dollar per night.

During this era, in which Country Western music really started to get big, you did two things as a practicing musician. You played as many shows as you could, and you also would try to get a regular gig at one of the local AM radio stations. Mr. Buster would join up with an outfit known called The Koffie Cup Hawaiians that had a regular show on WDOD out of Tennessee. In addition to the radio show, the group would also play all over the Southeast opening for the likes of Country legends such as Roy Acuff, Bob Wells, and Eddy Arnold.

This is a good time for a quick aside. There's a line in the movie, “The Blues Brothers,” when the waitress says something like, “oh, we play both kinds of music—Country and Western.” That's a funny line from a very funny movie but that distinction is quite real. Country Western, also known as Country & Western, or Western Swing, is very much a different genre from Country music. Country is bluegrass- based; Country & Western is Western Swing-based. Mr Buster will let you know right quick about that distinction and that he is a Country & Western man.

But back to our story, after the Koffie Cup Hawaiians, Mr. Buster did his own thing during the mid to late 1940's playing around the South with a mix of different musicians. At one show, a young gal by the name of Dottie West opened for him.

In 1949 Mr. Buster got married, started a family, and decided to get a regular job. He was thinking that he was done with the music business, but the music business was not quite done with him. The 2^nd act of his musical life started with a phone call from a group out of Chicago that did sort of a “Lawrence Welk type of thing.” It paid $100 a week...really good money at the time. But after a couple of months, Buster just couldn't stand it anymore—he missed his Country roots. Later, he would actually join a traveling carnival as a featured musician. He wasn't able to stomach that for very long either and quit in between stops in Alabama and decided to walk and hitchhike his way back home. One night he actually had to sleep with his guitar in a ditch! Now that's Country!

After a while, Buster got back into radio doing music with a new group on WATL in Atlanta, GA. This would start his Georgia connection. It was a pretty good gig and the band would also tour pretty extensively during this time of the mid to late 1950's. By the way, the announcer for that station in Atlanta? Mr. 16 Tons himself, Tennessee Ernie Ford.

By 1960, Mr. Buster figured he was done with music for good. The time had come, he felt, to concentrate more on becoming a businessman and raising his family. He loved music but just felt like he needed to do something more stable to be the father and husband that he wanted to be.

But...the musical ballad of Buster Chadwick had another chapter coming down the pike. In the mid 1970's, after he had done well for himself in the business world and raised a wonderful family, Mr. Buster decided he had to get the music going again. He started a band called The Peachtree Playboys that mainly played political events in and around Atlanta. In 1986 the band was tapped to do The Wild Hog Supper, the Georgia Legislature's annual throw-down. This gig would last for 20 years up until just a few years ago. During one of these shows, Mr. Lester Maddox, the former Georgia Governor, jumped up onstage and played harmonica with the band for a few tunes and brought the house down! In 1993 Mr. Buster was inducted into the Atlanta Country Music Hall of Fame. It was a great accomplishment for a man who was involved with the genre from its earliest days.

I truly hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. I just felt like it was a good story about a good man, and it was one that I wanted to share with you. I'd also like to thank Buster's lovely wife Linda who helped facilitate the interview and helped get me the pictures. Until next time...

Greetings!

If you've come to this page after reading my latest column in "About Covington to Madison" magazine in hopes of reading the first installment of the Moore's Ford Bridge killings, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you--I don't have it up yet. Due to some personal issues and familial obligations, I have not had the opportunity to get the ball rolling yet. I hope to very soon, though. Please check back in the near future; in the meantime, you can click on the above links to read some of my past columns and online write-ups.

Thank you so much for reading.

Until next time...

Starrsville, GA

Howdy folks! Hope everything is going everybody’s way. I’m glad so many folks enjoyed the last column on the “lost towns” of our area. It really is fascinating stuff! And a special thanks to the Mansfield Garden Club for inviting me to speak to their organization about that and other local history. I had a wonderful time and really enjoyed talking with you wonderful ladies. This month—the long-awaited write-up on Starrsville.

Starrsville, GA

Approximately 6 miles southeast of Covington , Starrsville is one of the oldest communities in Newton Co. Originally settled in the early 1820’s by the Starr family, it would become a full-fledged community by the early 1830’s with a general store, a church, several farms, and a post office. It was situated at the intersection of Dixie Rd. and what we now call Hwy. 213. The centerpiece of this village was the Starr Store Building that was originally run by George Leak and John Starr. It would later be known as King’s Grocery. That building no longer stands but a historical marker can be found at the site that gives more information. The aforementioned church, Starrsville Methodist, is one of the area’s oldest churches as has been a pillar of this community for upwards of 180 years. This area would come to be known as Old Starrsville. More on that in just a bit…

As was mentioned in the Hayston column, when the C of G (Central of Georgia) ran the RR tracks, some towns were created ( Mansfield ) but some locations were picked because there was an existing village (Hayston). Starrsville was an instance of the latter with a bit of the former. Originally, the tracks were going to be brought right through the heart of Starrsville by the general store, but these plans were changed. I read in one resource that it was changed to go further north based on a decision by the C or G presumably based on cost-analysis or feasibility. But in doing a bit more research, I’ve discovered that possibly the residents of Starrsville at the time did not want the tracks and that’s why it was moved. Regardless, the line was moved and so a new village sprouted up in the 1890’s and was called New Starrsville. Old and New Starrsville remained intertwined as a community.

Starrsville Store. Photo by Dagmar Nelson*

New Starrsville quickly became a major hub with a train station and a general store. Eventually the post office would be moved from the old community to the new one. Later the Anderson Brickyard and Anderson Fertilizer Plant were major business endeavors. The general store was originally run by Rufus Franklin and later by the Andersons until it was finally purchased by D.B. Dixon. Mr. Dixon would continue operating the store until the 1970’s. Rail and mail service would continue for many years. In fact, at one time, Starrsville had its own zip code and postal service would continue up until the late 1970’s.

Some of the long-time families of the Starrsville area include the Andersons, Belchers, Biggers, Corleys, Cooks, and Dixons amongst others. And this leads me to an interesting family tie-in. As I’ve mentioned in previous columns, my wife’s maiden name is Biggers and she is descended from the Starrsville Biggers. My great, great, grandfather, William Marion McCart, moved to Starrsville from Covington in the late 1800’s and would reside there with his family until his death in 1915. He, his wife Sarah, and one his daughters are buried at the Starrsville

Methodist cemetery. Not too long after we started dating, my wife and I went out to the cemetery and we realized that my ancestors and her ancestors were practically buried right next to each other! That’s pretty neat.

I am in the process of writing a much longer and expanded write-up on Starrsville that would not be able to fit in the space that I am given by my esteemed editor; however, when I get it finished, I will be posting it on my webpage so make sure to check that out in the near future. Until next time… 

*Many thanks to Dagmar Nelson for use of her photograph of the Starrsville Store. Dagmar is a marvelous photographer. Her work can be seen at her webpage here. She is a blogger as well and that's actually how I came across her photo. I plan on doing a post in the very near future about that.  

Marshall can be reached at marshall.mccart@gmail.com

The Lost Towns of Newton, Jasper, and Morgan

From the September 2011 Issue of "About Covington to Madison" Magazine

Welcome back to The Piedmont Chronicles. I hope this column finds you well. Thanks to everyone who read and responded to the previous edition's write-up of Hayston, GA. This month we will cover some of the lost towns of this area. Personally, I've always been very interested in the concept of ghost towns, vanished settlements, and things of the like. I find it fascinating and hope you will too!

The Lost Towns of Newton, Jasper, and Morgan

New Berlin – Throughout the 1800's many towns and villages would come and go in Newton Co. One of those was a settlement called New Berlin. New Berlin was founded on Haynes Creek in the late 19^th century by German settlers in the area now known as North Oxford. There was a Post Office there from 1883-1887. It was thought that the town had a store and possibly a sawmill and a few other businesses. The exact location of the settlement is not surely known as the town would disappear and return to nature.

Newton Factory/Webbville (Factory Shoals) – South of Covington, right on the Alcovy, is what is now known as Factory Shoals. Way back in the day, around the mid 1800's, a factory was started by a Mr. John Webb. Mr. Webb was originally from Virginia and had moved to Georgia in the 1820's. His cotton mill was a major operation. Also in this area was another cotton mill as well as a grist mill in addition to some other businesses and several homes. For the most part, most of the operations ceased after the Civil War as Stoneman's Raiders showed little mercy to the area. Before long this town would go the way of so many others (Smith's Mill as you may remember from the Jasper Co.column or New Berlin for that matter) dying a slow death and eventually returning to nature. A Post Office existed in this village as early as 1832 and mail service would actually continue there until 1902. And according to the Kenneth Krakow book, “Place-names of Georgia,” the town's incorporation as a village would exist from 1854 all the way until 1995! I'm still not so sure that wasn't a misprint, but as yet, have not been able to verify it either way. The aforementioned Mr. Webb was the town's first postmaster and also operated the general store there for many years. Webbville (also referred to as just Webb) could be found on most Georgia maps from the mid 1800's up until the early 20^th century.

Leakton/Leakesville – This first jumped out at me a couple of years ago when I found it on the1839 American Atlas map. Based on that map, it was in Jasper Co. right near the Newton Co. line. It caught my eye because I have family that lives in a city called Leakesville, MS. Still to this day, I haven't ever come across anyone in Newton or Jasper. (and I've asked at least a dozen or so folks) who has heard of or knew anything about this village. Maps throughout the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries have it listed as both Leakton and Leakesville including the 1910 Rand McNally map of Georgia. To date I have not been able to find any real information on this mysterious town other than its location. Based on the multiple maps I have seen, it was about 4 or 5 miles south of Mansfield on what was most likely the Cherokee Rd (now known as Hwy 11). If I had to guess, I would think it was somewhere near the present day site of the Charlie Elliott Wildlife center. If anyone has any information on Leakesville—please email me.

Palestine – There existed in Morgan Co., at least for a short amount of time, a settlement called Palestine. The only documentation of said town is from the 1839 Map of Georgia & Alabama Exhibiting the Post Offices, Post roads, Canals, and Railroads by David H. Burr that was used in J. Arrowsmith London's The American Atlas. Based on the map, Palestine looked to be basically right in between Social Circle and Madison and served as a Post Office stop for at least a little while. The town was obviously short lived as it only appears in 1839 and was never again documented.

These are just a few of the vanished towns in our area. Morgan County can also lay claim to the following ones: Austin, Ebenezer, Stallings, Union Mill, and Zachry. Jasper County—Alva, Concord, Palo Alto, South Union, and Woodfin. And Newton County can count Cora, Leguin, Pace, and Sheffield among others.

The following will be coming down the pike soon: A write-up of Starsville, GA; a write-up of some of the unincorporated towns and villages of the surrounding area; some of my genealogical research; and another fictional short-story. Until next time... Marshall can be reached at marshmanslim@yahoo.com

A Fond Remembrance of an Autumn Saturday in Athens

I've been going to Georgia football games for over thirty years now...wow, just saying that makes me feel old. Hell, I am old! I keep having these birthdays, you know? It's getting to be the end part of August and as I'm prone to do at this time of year, I have been reminiscing a good bit about my beloved Dawgs. I've been to some great games in Athens over the years. I was at the '82 Clemson game with the blocked punt and was at the '91 upset of them also; the 2000 Tennessee game when we finally broke the drought (and got to see the students demolish our hedges); the Georgia Tech beat-down of 2002, and of course--the Blackout against Auburn in 2007 where I witnessed a bunch of old white folks dancing to Soulja Boy. I was that guy wearing red, you know, the one who apparently didn't get the memo. All total, I think I've been to upwards of 200 UGA games and a good number of those were home games. And it's not just the games that stick out for me. At the risk of sounding sappy and sentimental--it really is the memories. Throwing the football with my Dad on South Campus back in the day; cranking up the grill; seeing folks you haven't seen in forever; witnessing the Redcoats take the field pre-game...the list goes on and on. And that's without even getting into the emotions you experience on a game day Saturday in Athens. Just that feel. There's really nothing like it. But of all those games and of of all of those memories, one always sticks out.

And truth be told, I cannot give you an exact year on this one. I know it wasn't as early as '82 and I'm positive it was no later than '85. My best guess would be 1984. I say that because I remember a lot of frustration and anxiety with the crowd for that game (and that was more of a 1984 thing as the magic of the '80-'83 run was wearing off) but for the life of me, I can't remember who we played, or, as I mentioned, what year it was. I know we won though. By the way, after reading this write-up, I can imagine some of you being skeptical about the validity of my memories, but I think I've got a good answer for that. I think that what follows was just so awesome and amazing that my mind kind of went into a super-record mode and that the memories of the actual contest were diminished as a result. Sound good? Well, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it. So here we go...

I know the game was close and it was pretty suspenseful. I have gone back and researched and if it was indeed the 1984 season, then it was a good bet that it was the Ole Miss game that we won 18-12. I know it couldn't have been the opener vs. Southern Miss because I remember that game vividly, and I remember the rest of the home games that year. So for the sake of the story, we'll just go with Ole Miss. So our Dawgs won but because it was so close, traffic was an absolute nightmare after the game. Now for folks who think traffic is bad after a close UGA game nowadays, they obviously weren't around back in the 1980's. Back then it was the wild, wild west. A Free-For-All. Park anywhere and everywhere...hell, park on the street. It just didn't matter. These days you get towed if you improperly park. Also, there are cops everywhere directing traffic and they have these well-researched traffic plans put into place. Back then--they did not. It was always a mess.

My Dad had a Connor Hall parking pass. We were always a South Campus family, you might say. I tried doing the North Campus thing for awhile a few years ago, but I just couldn't get into it. Tailgating only feels right on South Campus for me...but I digress... So after the game, we get back to the car and it's just total and absolute gridlock. Nothing is moving. It took us forever to get out of the parking lot and by the time we actually got on Cedar Street, we seemed to be making a pace of about a car length every five minutes. I could tell the old man was getting antsy. He wanted to get home. There was college football to be watched on T.V., steaks to be cooked, and other consumables to be consumed. After what seemed like an eternity, the old man had simply had enough. He jerked the car into park and turned to our mother (my brother was there also) and said, "Take the wheel. You'll know what to do." And with that, he was off. Walking down Cedar towards East Campus Street at a pretty brisk clip. My mother slid over into the driver's seat and laughed nervously while trying to maintain idle chit-chat with us boys. Looking back on it, I think she was a little concerned. What, exactly, was her husband up to? What did he have in mind?

I remember feeling a little bit the same. I think my Brother did too. What was the old man up to? But then, after just a few minutes, it was like the floodgates opened. We started moving down the street with ease. As we got closer to East Campus St., I was the first one to see my Father. He was in the middle of the intersection. His right hand was held up in the direction of Sanford Stadium while his left hand was motioning cars. The man was directing traffic. I think all three of us were simply at a loss there at first. This possibly couldn't be happening. By the time we were in front of the Statistics Building right near the intersection, my brother and I had broken into hyena-like hysterics. My Mother soon joined in. And then, right there at the intersection, my mom stopped the station wagon and Dad hurriedly jumped in telling my Mom to “hit it!” She gunned it and we were off. My God, we were all just rolling by this point. Laughing like crazy. But that's not even the best part. The best part was this: I was sitting behind the driver's seat and had the vantage point for something I'll never forget. As my Dad was getting in the car, I happened to look at the first car stopped that had been heading down East Campus. The first car that my Dad actually stopped with his traffic cop routine, mind you. It was a Georgia fan that looked to be about my Dad's age who was also with his family. His expressions and emotions completely ran the gambit--from confusion, to shock, followed naturally, of course, by righteous indignation, briefly followed by rage, but then morphed into genuine admiration. When it was all said and done, he was actually smiling. The expression on his face at this point seemed to say, "Well played, sir. I salute you and your endeavors...I wish I could have done something like that." Man, oh man, it was so cool! We all just laughed and laughed. I seem to remember my Mom saying something like, "Oh my God--I can't believe you just did that!" My brother and I were completely in awe. My Dad just kind of chuckled and then broke into a easy smile. I think he was pretty proud of himself.

Obviously it was a big deal for me. I mean, here I am, over 25 years later, writing about it like it was yesterday. I don't know if it says something about my personality that this memory would stick out so much for me. Like, you know, the whole "anti-authority" thing, or whatever...I just know that it was a big deal for me! And it's one of the many reasons why my Dad is my hero. I think about that day often and fondly...it always puts a smile on my face. And to me, for some reason, it just seems to encapsulate Georgia football. So...Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition. How Bout Them Dawgs!

Hayston, GA

Greetings! Hope all is well out there. I really appreciate all of the comments and feedback on the Oxford & Porterdale columns from the last edition. I've lately become fascinated with some of the older unincorporated towns and communities that have been vital to this area. This month I'd like to write about one of the oldest settlements in Newton Co— Hayston , GA.

The Hayston Community

The Hayston community can be found on Hwy 213 at the convergence of Macedonia Rd , Hayston Rd , and Greer Lane right by the railroad tracks. As I was researching Hayston, I felt like I just wasn't connecting with the subject material. My trusty research companion, “The History of Newton County,” and some online resources just weren't getting me there. I knew I needed some help so I phoned fellow history enthusiast Judge Virgil Costley who put me in touch with Mr. Fred Greer, Jr. Mr. Greer was kind enough to meet with me. He was most generous with his time and imparted a lot of knowledge and information and even drove me around Hayston pointing out the many things of interest there.

Origins

In the first part of the 19^th century, a young man from Virginia named George Newton Hayes (he would later drop the “e”) would migrate to Georgia eventually winding up in our neck of the woods. The Hays Cabin over on Woodlawn Rd , built in the early 1800's, was his homeplace and is one of Newton County 's oldest surviving structures. George Hays would end up marrying three times and producing 25 offspring. One of those children was Robert Luther Hays. While George could be called the original patriarch of Hayston, the true founding father would have been Robert Luther. The Presbyterian Church up on the hill off of Hwy 213 is named in his honor. Several of Robert’s brothers and sisters remained in the immediate area. Also, Robert ended up having 18 children himself. Several of the other siblings had large families as well. So over the next couple of generations, the community grew quite a bit and was almost exclusively made up of immediate family.

By the late 1800's, Hayston was a thriving place with multiple stores and businesses, a brickyard, train depot, tannery, gin, and a sawmill. Whereas Mansfield, as we discussed in a previous column, was a town created by completion of the railroad, Hayston was the complete opposite--when the C of G (Central of Georgia) bought the Middle Georgia & Atlantic Railway, it was brought through Hayston precisely because it was already an established town and was right in between Covington and Machen (an important hub as it served as the intersection of the Athens/Macon and Covington/Eatonton lines) and would serve as an ideal spot for a terminal and post office. Back in the days of mules, wagons, and horses, there was a genuine need to have as many things needed as close as possible. Going back a bit—one of the stores in Hayston was built by one of Robert's sons, Alexander Hamilton Stephens Hays. Alexander would be the first postmaster in Hayston and operated the general merchandise store for years until he turned it over to his son, H.S. “Stoney” Hays. Stoney became the city's 2^nd Postmaster in 1936 and would serve in that capacity for over 20 years until they discontinued mail service there. Another of Robert Luther's children was a daughter named Mary Jane. In 1861 she married a Preacher by the name of Thomas Hezekiah Greer who was originally from South Carolina . This would start the Greer branch of the Hays line. Some of the Hays clan found their way to Texas where a good number of them still reside, but a good bit of them can still be found in and around the Hayston area. As an interesting aside, I found a McCart girl who married one of the Hays men back in the mid 1800's.

Like a lot of the other places we've covered in this column, the one-two punch of the Boll Weevil and The Great Depression was very tough for Hayston. Predominantly an agrarian community, Hayston was particularly vulnerable to the fortunes of “King Cotton.” The economic struggles of the 1930's also did no favors for the area. Over the next several decades, many of the historic buildings were lost to fire or Mother Nature (tornadoes in particular); however, several buildings dating back to the 19^th century still remain. One of those buildings, the aforementioned store built by Alexander Hays, has recently found its way back into the family fold. Mr. Freddie is very excited about getting the building cleaned up and refurbished. There are also plans to start the arduous but rewarding process of getting Hayston added to the National Register of Historic Places.

Thanks for reading. Future columns will cover some more of the older communities and as well as some of the lost towns in this area. Also, keep an eye on my blog for several upcoming online-only articles. Until next time.