Burningtown News, Sunday, March 6, 2016

Good afternoon to all the fine folks out there in the world. It is now Sunday afternoon at 3:33 p.m. We've had an exciting day as it is MF and LF's 62nd wedding anniversary today. This is ST writing this and putting the finishing touches on the BTN for MF. Join us in wishing them congratulations on this wonderful occasion. Below is a picture of MF and LF at Burningtown Baptist Church this morning. They're standing in front of flowers placed in the sanctuary in their honor.

Happy Birthday to longtime and faithful BTN reader Dennis Desmond! Dennis celebrated his birthday on Saturday, March 5th.


Please remember the following in your prayers this week.

Lucy Mason   Ken Shepherd   Nell Duvall Welch   Lori Impagliatelli   Harry Henry   Melba Martin   Melba West   Meredith Jones   Clarence Scott
Linda Campbell   Pamela West   Bob Bryson   Sue Martin   Oweila T F   Sue West   Beatrice Deweese   Wayne Powers   Charles West
Tom Needham

Please let me know if there are names listed above that should be taken off. Thank you.


Rev. Brian Holland brought a great message this Sunday morning, March 13, 2016, at 11:00, at Burningtown Baptist Church.


From Macon County Library

Friday, March 11, 2:00 p.m. "Penny Serenade" starring Cary Grant & Irene Dunne- A couple's big dreams give way to a life full of unexpected sadness and unexpected joy. 1 hr. 59 min.

Friday, March 11, 7:00 p.m. The Nantahala Hiking Club welcomes MaryAnn Ingram, massage therapist and owner of Rainbow Healing Hands, who will give a talk on Fitness thru Strength, Flexibility and Coordination exercises. She will demonstrate several stretches and encourage everyone to join in.

Saturday, March 12, 2:00 p.m. Dollar a Day Boys Many young men worked at Civilian Conservation Corps camps in western NC starting in 1933. Author Bill Jamerson presents a music and storytelling program about how the CCC camps improved the surrounding area as well as the lives of the men and their families. Join us for this entertaining and nostalgic program!

Co-sponsored by the Macon County Historical Museum.

Kristina Lynn Moe
Macon County Public Library
149 Siler Farm Road
Franklin, NC 28734


Hey Uncle Merritt,

Just wanted to give you an update on our adoption for the Burningtown News. The birth mother for the potential match on March 9th is not going to work out. She has chosen a different placement family. We are a little disappointed of course, but we know that all of this is in our Sovereign Lord's control. We were so blessed this week with all the love and support we were shown from everyone. We have not reached our goal yet but we have made a substantial dent in it. We wanted to thank everyone who gave and prayed for us this week. It was an emotional week for Erika and me, but we were strengthened by the love that was shown to us from our family and friends. We wanted to thank everyone and hopefully we will have another update soon. Cadon and Erika



If you are on facebook then you have probably seen this picture as several of my friends have shared it. I do not know who took the picture but when they say "a picture is worth a thousand words", they could not be more correct if speaking of this one. The Bible says in John 14:6 "Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.". If this verse leaves any doubt as to whether you can get to Heaven any other way, let me repeat the latter part of the verse, "NO man cometh unto the father, BUT by me." One way, just like the sign says. There are no two way streets or divided highways that will lead you to Jesus. There will be curves ahead and steep slopes that are hard to climb but just keep pointed in the right direction and He will bring you safely home. If you have made Jesus Lord and Savior of your life, please pray for those who have not. Have a blessed week! Donna Mathis ?


"Saying 'Welcome' To The Morning"
Larry Alan Reeves, Region A Long Term Care Ombudsman
Southwestern Commission- Area Agency on Aging

I am an early riser. Always have been. Even as a small child I enjoyed getting up early in order to experience the beginning of a new day. I remember watching the chickens fly down from the branches of the trees where they had roosted during the previous night just as the new day was dawning. I loved hearing the rooster, crowing as loudly as he could, waking up the world around him to the possibilities held in promise for the upcoming day. For me, the time was magical; still is, even though I am no longer a child (except at heart).

Through the years I have made it a priority to awaken early, to "hit the floor", get moving and going in order to capture (and be captured by) the morning. As a junior and senior high student I had some chores to do before heading off to school each morning. In college and graduate school I would arrange my schedule so that I always had 8:00 AM classes. In most cases, I would be finished with my classes before noon, leaving my afternoons for my necessary jobs that helped to pay my bills and buy the provisions required. Following my formal educational experiences, I kept up my routines that allowed me to continue my preferences for the early morning hours. For the most part, my days have begun well before 5:00 AM, both weekdays and weekends. If I have needed to report for work at a certain time in the morning I usually show up anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour early. I do not like to be late, for any reason, unless it is unavoidable.

In the world that I call "home" today there is an emphasis that I give for the morning hours. I awaken and rise around 4:15 AM, Monday thru Friday, in order to hasten to the fitness center, arriving for my workout (stretching, lifting, running, etc.) by 5:00 AM. The door, allowing entry to the workout area, opens at 5:30 AM. There is a group of a dozen or so "early birds" (like me) that spend about 30 minutes each morning chatting, laughing, moaning, groaning, and sharing life together. Some of us "early birders" have been doing this for more than 15 years. We know each other, very well. We are friends and fellow pilgrims, journeying together. Hopefully, we will continue on. Faces change. New folks come along and become a part of the group. Others find their paths taking them elsewhere, even away. This is a good way for me to begin my workdays. I am usually in my office before 7:30 AM, even though the office does not open until 8:30 AM. Even on the weekends and holidays I am "up with the chickens". There is no need to miss the morning; at least as I see it.

Long years ago, I awaken early one morning, dressed, went outside, walked up the road to the ridge above the house where I lived, sat down on a large boulder, and allowed "morning" to happen. I wanted to wrap myself in the stillness of the new day, to smell the fresh fragrances, to feel the gentle breeze, to hear the stirrings of the song-birds, to observe the movement of the flocks of cattle, to listen to the sounds of dogs barking in the distance, to watch the painting of the colors of the eastern horizon clouds at the breaking of the day, and then to feel the excitement of the lifting of the sun from its cycle of slumber. What a morning!

Upon my return to the house, my mother asked where I had been. I just said, "Saying 'welcome' to the morning."

Larry Reeves
Long Term Care Ombudsman
Region A, Southwestern Commission
125 Bonnie Lane
Sylva, North Carolina 28779
(828)586-1962, ext. 223
FAX (828)586-1968

"I love the unimproved works of God." (Horace Kephart, 1906)

By: Nita Welch Owenby

My cousin Rogers was full of laugher, love, and a little touch of the devil himself. He lived life to the fullest and never missed a chance to pull a prank on someone, anyone. I don't know that I ever saw a frown on his face when I was a child, because he was always smiling from inside out. Rogers was about 12 years older than me, and I was just a little snotty nosed kid when he spent time with Grandpa Deck and Grandma Cordie. Though I was young, I remember that I always felt happy when Rogers was present.

But, I'm not so sure Grandma Cordie always felt the same. She loved him dearly, but he was a handful and managed to keep her on her toes to keep him in line. Like the time Rogers killed a black snake, placed it under the house with just it's head sticking out, and started yelling "snake, snake." Grandma came running out of the house, thinking he had been bitten. Seeing he was okay, she grabbed a hoe and "killed that dead snake." Rogers was in stitches and fell on the grass laughing. Even though Grandma didn't take the hoe to him, or use any foul language, I really think both ideas must have been on her mind.

Then there was the time Rogers somehow got some of the small firecrackers that were so popular around the 4th of July. Rogers didn't have any money to buy them, but I can only imagine that he used his charm to acquire them from someone. It was bad enough when he threw a lit fire cracker out on the lawn and one of Grandma's hens grabbed it, thinking it was food. As I understand, that hen never was able to close her beak again. But the catastrophe came when Rogers accidentally threw a fire cracker into Grandma's chamber pot that she had washed and was airing on the porch. It was a fine white ceramic chamber pot and Grandma's pride and joy. When the fire cracker went off it blew a big hole in the pot and shattered the ceramic glaze. I still can't remember what Grandma said or did, but she was so religious, it was against her belief to kill Rogers.

Then there was the night we had the hair ball situation. I was spending the night with Grandpa and Grandma, and all was quite as we sat around the warm stove and listened to Grandma read from the Bible. She read from the Bible every night, and even though Grandpa couldn't read or write, he would often correct her when she read it wrong. Grandma would get a little huffy, but would go back and read it right. The light was rather dim since they used very low wattage bulbs to save on electricity. As Grandma read, something about the evil people who were against Jesus and wanted him crucified; a small wad of hair and dust came rolling out from under the bed. At that time, Grandma and Grandpa had their beds in the living room next to the stove, since the back bedrooms were not insulated and were cold in winter. Rogers, being the rascal he was, and getting bored with the Bible reading, saw the wad of hair moving along the floor. Suddenly he yelled "spider, there's a big spider"! Grandma threw down the Bible and ran to get the broom. She hadn't learned from the snake situation I reckon, and once again "killed" a wad-of-hair. As usual, Rogers was in stitches laughing, and even Grandpa was rocking as he quietly expressed his inner mirth.

And, as the story goes, Rogers was not fond of school, but Grandma was determined to educate him. At that time, my older brother, Beauford, was helping Daddy haul and sell produce. This included apples, peaches, and whatever vegetables were in season during that time of year. So Rogers made plans with Beauford to meet him early in the morning when he headed out to sell. I'm not sure that Rogers was a great salesman, but to him it was an adventure, and much better than going to school. However, Grandma got suspicious. On that morning when Rogers headed down the hill, he was a little early and sat down to wait until he saw Beauford leaving. While he was waiting, he heard a rustle in the bushes behind him. Thinking it might be a wild critter, he turned to look and saw Grandma Cordie's face peering through the bush at him. Needless to say, he went to school that day.

Somehow, with the determination of Grandma Cordie, and a little help from God, she got Rogers educated and he headed out into the world to seek his fortune. He went into a branch of the military and made it his career. I never saw much of Rogers after he joined the military, and things settled down a bit around home. But, somehow, after he left, there was always an empty spot in my heart. I knew that things would never be quite the same without him, but I also savored the wonderful memories he helped to create back in the Good 'Ole Days.


By: Roy Owenby

When I was a kid growing up in Nantahala, we had to walk everywhere we went. It was customary for anyone driving a car to pick up his neighbor on the road. Sometimes, a driver would have a carload of folks by the time he got to his destination. Anyone who didn't stop for someone on the road was considered to be a bad neighbor or a flatlander. Now, it was known by everyone that flatlanders were rude, uncouth people who had no manners.

When we moved to Valdese, I soon learned that there were more flatlanders around than there were regular folk. In fact, people who didn't have a car were in the minority. People just wouldn't pick up their neighbors on the road. Later on, I learned that there was an exception to this rule. If someone on foot stuck his thumb out as a car approached, there was a good chance of getting picked up. When I reached high school age, my buddies and I would hitchhike to Drexel and Morganton or even Hickory or Lenoir. So it seemed reasonable to continue this practice after I joined the Navy.

Hitchhiking in those days was a lot safer than it is now; even so, it still had it perils. I didn't hitchhike in Boot Camp because we weren't allowed to leave, but as soon as I got into basic electricity school in Norman, Oklahoma; I tried my wings. Someone told me that there were a lot of girls in Denton, Texas, so that's where I headed. We were allowed to wear our uniforms in those days, so many people felt obligated to pick up servicemen. On my several trips south, I really had no serious problems. I did learn that thumbing in North Texas at three in the morning was not a useful exercise. One chilly night, I had the pleasure of standing by the road for about six hours without a car passing by. I found an old cardboard box and sat in it to keep the wind off. After that, I started out earlier.

When I transferred to Millington, Tennessee for electronics school, I did more of the same. Even though Memphis was about 600 miles from home, I decided I could make the round trip on a weekend. I had to time my return trip well because failure to make muster at 0800 hours on Monday morning would be consider absence without leave (AWOL) and dealt with accordingly. As soon as class was over on Friday afternoon, I would head out. By hitchhiking all night, I could be in Valdese by Saturday afternoon. That gave me about twelve hours at home which, in reality, was an unprofitable venture. Even so, I made it back to base in time for Monday morning class. One Sunday night, a truck driver gave me a Benzedrine tablet to help me stay awake. I was wired all day Monday and breezed through my classes like a collegian. The pill started wearing off in the chow hall, and two of my buddies had to help me to the barracks. I slept for thirteen hours and woke up with a bad headache. Tuesday's classes were a little tougher.

On my third trip home, a man from Kentucky gave me a ride. I went to sleep in his car and woke up in Lexington, Kentucky. He claimed that I never told him where I was going so he just decided to let me sleep. Since I was as far away from home as I was when I started, I decided to make the best of it and hang out in Lexington. As it turned out, I had a good time. That was probably my last step in growing up. I realized I no longer needed to go home every chance I got. When I graduated Radar school in Millington, I transferred to San Diego. I took the Greyhound Bus the first time. After that, I hitchhiked. I quickly learned that it's a long haul from Morganton to San Diego. Be that as it may, I found that I could beat the bus by several hours. Most of the time, I was picked up by nice people who were interested in helping a serviceman. A few of them took me into their home for the night and fed me good meals. A couple of events are worth mentioning.

One night while standing by the road in Tennessee, I witnessed a bad car wreck. A young man under the influence of alcohol ran off the road and caused major injuries to his girlfriend. It was a dark night with few cars so all I could do was try to make her as comfortable as possible. He had minor injuries, and he spent his time wringing his hands and crying. I finally got a man to stop, and he drove back to a house and called the police. I never did know the final outcome of the injured woman. Another time, I was riding with a man who went around a curve too fast and rolled the car. Fortunately, it landed right side up. I managed to crawl out and help the driver out. Several people stopped to offer assistance. I got a ride with a couple and left the man to deal with his problem. I wasn't injured, but I was a sore puppy the next day.

Another time, I was picked up by three men who were apparently on their way home. All three of them were in the front. I got in the back and drifted off to sleep. I awoke sometime later and heard them discussing an altercation they had had in a night club earlier in the evening. The guy in the middle was pretty sure he had killed a man in a fight. They looked back to see if I was asleep. I never moved a muscle. Satisfied that I was sleeping, they continued their discussion. After a few minutes, I realized we were riding under street lights. I pretended to be waking up. I saw a sign for a restaurant and told them I wanted to get out and find something to eat. They pulled over and let me out. I always wondered if they had really been in a fight or if they were just trying to shake me up.

I continued to hitchhike until I bought my first car at age 21, a 1954 Oldsmobile. After that I drove the car to places I wanted to go. Immediately after my discharge from the Navy, three buddies and I hitched from San Diego to western Canada and back, but that story is in my upcoming book about travels across America. The last time I hitchhiked, my wife got mad at me in Blowing Rock, drove off and left me. Ten minutes after she left, I got a ride with a man who let me out in front of my house. She never did figure out how I beat her home. These days, hitchhiking or picking up a hitchhiker is risky business. I don't recommend it.




Lucy is the only first cousin living on my father's side of the family. Her mother was Aunt Emma Fouts Campbell. They lived on Olive Hill.

Below is a picture of MF and LF sitting on an antique school desk LG is donating to Macon County Heritage Center at the historic Cowee School. MF bought the desk from Eddie Raby and gave it to LG many years ago. LG had the plaque made to put on the desk to recognize MF's years as an educator in the Macon county School System.

GT and ST had an old barn taken down this week. Through the years the building had housed livestock, been used as a place to process mica, and as a storage place for various items. Most recently, it had served as an eyesore for Maria Greene and ST. Chad Welch took the building down and Matthew Holland hauled the wood away to be ground up. Below are some photos of the demolition.

It has been a good week here on Burningtown.

GT and LG are in a contest to see who can harvest sugar snap peas the earliest. So far, they are tied as neither has had a plant come up yet.

Yesterday, GT and ST stopped out that Jim's Shed to collect the money. I was gonna stop at Jim's yesterday morning but I met CMG coming toward our house as I went up the Parrish Hill. I went on to the dumpster, and then when I came back I knew LF was getting dinner so I had to hurry on back home fore they ate it all up. She had shell beans cooked in a piece of ham, parmesan potatoes, kraut, corn bread, a little bit of milk, and some apple sauce. CMG and LG ate with us. JG was burning brush and could not come over here, but CMG carried him some over there. After lunch CMG and LG cleaned off LF's bank and prepared it for spring. It sure is good to have CMG visiting from Asheville.

There was $20.12 in the jar at Jim's Shed. People contributing money this week were Tom Welch, Bernard Huggins (twice), June Bug Crisp, Mike Fouts, Marilyn Roper and James Roper. ST was very excited to see a note to her from Jim in the jar and two pieces of candy. The note instructed her to put money in the jar but she ignored the instruction. She did not ignore the candy.

Today, we had lunch over at JG and LG's house. JG had fixed up salmon spread using salmon he cured himself. He gave us some to bring home. LG and CMG fixed chicken and dumplings and a nice salad. ST brought a lemon cheesecake. We had a nice time and missed all of the family that couldn't be with us to celebrate our 62nd anniversary; WG, GJ, JFJ, MJ and KJ.

Here is a beautiful picture from our Staff Photographer, Ralph Preston


We hope you have a wonderful week.
Remember the poor man and his enduring little wife on Lower Burningtown.

MF, Editor
LF, Operations Editor
ST, Circulations Manager
RO, Feature Story Author
NWO, Feature Story Author
AM, Arts Illustration Editor
RP, Photographic Editor
JK, Assistant Photographic Editor
DB, Copier
JB, Assistant Photographic Editor