Below are the most recent 7 friends' journal entries.

Friday, December 18th, 2009
rhapsody_98	8:03p	So... We got some snow. And by some, I mean almost two feet. I walked from work to my mom's, about 100 yards, maybe a few yards more. It was up to my knees, and I fell a couple times. Meanwhile, my backpack and hair accumulated an inch on their own. I'm stranded at mom's. Doug is stranded at Honeysuckle and her husbands house. Neither of us can go anywhere. I keep worrying about the cats, did we leave the heat on? Is the food bowl full enough, do they have clean water? It would be better if Doug were here, but he's two miles away. I'd rather be stranded with him than without him. I'm very close to tears right now. My friends from Buffalo get off work at 10:15. Maybe with their Driving in Northern Winters Superpowers, they can at least get me home to check, adn then back. My car is still at work, the locks are frozen. Current Mood: worried (Comment on this)
Sunday, December 13th, 2009
rhapsody_98	8:11p	Along the Appalachian Trail in Shady Valley on Iron Mountain in Shady Valley there is the chimney-shaped grave of Uncle Nick Grindstaff, a man who, as the tombstone says, "Lived alone, Suffered alone, and Died alone.” In Walkin’ with the Ghost Whisperers: Lore and Legends on the Appalachian Trail, J. R. “Model-T” Tate claims his dog can be heard howling from beyond the grave, mourning the loss of its owner. As revealed in Carter County Tennessee and Its People 1796 - 1993 by Carter County History Book Committee, Uncle Nick was a real person, but is shrouded in mystery. What information is available is conflicting. Sources agree that he traveled to Missouri to seek fortune in the lumber industry but wasn’t as successful as anticipated. At the age of 26, he began the long journey back to Johnson County. He used what money he had to by land on top of Iron Mountain and lived there in solitude until he passed in 1923. His only companions were dog Panter, a steer and a pet rattlesnake. Men who volunteered to bury him, Tate maintains, had to kill the dog because it would not let them near the body. Man and pet were buried together. Is Panter still howling in grief over its owners passing? Near the peak of Stone Mountain in Johnson County is an outcropping of stones once called screaming stones. However, folklorists cannot seem to agree on how the rocks got that nickname. In 1992, Charles Edwin Price released Demon in the Woods: Tall Tales and True from East Tennessee that included this story. He called the largest stone “Fiddler’s Rock” and claimed it was haunted by the music of a deceased fiddle player named Martin Stone. Price continues to write that Martin was the best musician in the county and practiced on the rock in the company of sunbathing rattlesnakes. He was found dead on day with numerous bites over his body. Another version is recounted in The Granny Curse: And Other Ghosts and Legends from East Tennessee, published in 1999 by authors Randy Russell and Janet Barnett. In this version, Martin is a trickster and the largest stone is called “Rattlesnake Rock.” The duo wrote that no one would participate in the Fiddler's Convention for fear of losing to him. When young men heard he was ill, many musicians joined the contest. 30 minutes before conclusion, Martin walked on stage and stole the crowd and won first place. A short time later, a group of angry contestants went to his home to share their anger. His wife looked confused. She claimed he had died 30 minutes before the contest concluded. It was later that community members learned his fiddle music could still be heard at his favorite practice spot. If it weren’t for Charles Edwin Price’s sensational book Haints, Witches, and Boogers: Tales from Upper East Tennessee, Dark Hollow Cemetery in Roan Mountain might not see many visitors. However, curiosity-seekers frequently stop to throw coins into the air, hoping the spirit of an interred prostitute will snatch them up before they hit the ground. Charles Edwin Price claims that the ghost of a woman named Delinda was prematurely buried in an unmarked grave. She was a prostitute in the area and when prominent men and even a couple preachers came down with “social diseases,” the women of the community took quick, deadly action. They knocked her unconscious and stuffed her into the closed casket of a man named Jankins. When the coffin was buried, the women thought they were rid of her. However, legend claims she still haunts the cemetery and will snatch coins out of mid-air. Curiously, this tale did not appear in Latchpins of the Lost Cove by long-time resident Malone Young, who filled his book with folklore. Unfortunately, the story cannot be verified since most of the tombstones are blank. After Price’s book was published in 1992, curiosity was renewed about an obscure grave off Teabury Road and speculation was raised about the questionable circumstances of the burial. Some claim it is the final resting place of Delinda who was not a prostitute at all but a practitioner of widely misunderstood witchcraft. The reason for this seems to be the curious superstition that witches graves were covered in cement. The grave, however, contains two twin girls from a non-extant farmhouse. Their father cemented the grave to protect their tiny bodies from wildlife. In Squirrel Gravy and Feed Sack Underwear by Tennessee Mountain Oldtimers , Bob Lasley and Sallie Holt, published in 2008, Connie E. Harrald gives a strikingly different story of the ghost that does not limit her to the cemetery. In an article entitled “The Legend of Screaming Hollow,” she tells that early in the 20th century, an unnamed family moved into Dark Hollow. The woman became pregnant and sent for her 16-year-old sister. The teenage girl became an instant sensation with local gentlemen. She had flowing, fiery red hair and striking, emerald green eyes. Men fawned after her, leading some citizens to suspect her of fascinating them with some diabolical spell. A group of four teenage couples set on a devious plan to drive her away from Roan Mountain. They invited her on a hay ride. Halfway through, they stopped the tractor, tied her to a tree and began taunting her. They began taunting her and she was stabbed to death. The group left her body tied to the tree and vowed never to speak of the horrendous crime again. Someone found the poor girl’s body and her sister was given the grisly task of burying the body. The family quickly moved away preceding the burial. They wanted no part of a town where such atrocities could take place. Since her death, however, tales abound that some nights the unnamed young woman will run out into Dark Hollow Road, screaming for help. As soon as a motorist stops to lend assistance, though, she disappears (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, December 9th, 2009
rhapsody_98	8:16p	Today was the Volunteer Appreciation lunch at the museum. It was a pot luck, and there was a lot of food. I ate until I was stuffed, and it was all good. Especially that one ladies pasta salad. I won the award for having the most hours at the front desk: 258.5. I got a sticker for my windshield, and I got to make an acceptance speech. I don't remember much of it. I was kinda shocked at being up in front of so many people, and also for having the most hours downstairs. I do remember saying "My day job really, really, really sucks, so this place is the reason I keep going." Everyone laughed, and Barry said "Now, Emily, tell us how you really feel." My hours don't hold a candle to Barb, though, who had the most hours in the lab. Nearly 2,500! I don't remember if she said anything or not, I was still kind of in shock. But, it was a good day. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, December 8th, 2009
rhapsody_98	7:13p	Post the first line of your first blog for each month of 2008... and see how your year shaped up. Yada Yada Stonehenge, Yada Yada Easter Island, Blah Blah Blah, Joan of Arc. I really hate my job. Again, sneaky it is, convenient it's not. Anna and I got to dig in the pit yesterday, which wasn't as much fun as you'd expect. They brought back reading at work, so the public library has been my best friend. Whoa. I'm feeling really great right now. Basically, this historian compiled all the journal entries, letters to friends and family, and pension applications of the soldiers at Kings Mountain, and then, instead of compiling them to be readable, he just published them in a list. All hope seems to have been given up that ETSU will fill the position for educational coordinator for the museum. I called in to work today, my headache from last night is still not gone, although the light sensitivity did go away. Recently, the doctors from ETSU, Schubert and Wallace, have been placed in charge of the Saltville, Virginia Ice Age site. Last night, I was upstairs writing, and Doug came upstairs. (Comment on this)
Monday, December 7th, 2009
rhapsody_98	8:10p	Franklin County, not too far. http://www.blueridgeinstitute.org/moonshine/the_franklin_county_conspiracy.html The Franklin County Conspiracy Deputy Jeff Richards, the alleged treasurer in Franklin County’s moonshine conspiracy, was murdered in his car with his 38 revolver, shown here, in his hand. Jim Smith, a prisoner Richards was transporting to the county jail at the time, was also killed, but Smith had nothing to do with the conspiracy. Deputy Jeff Richards, the alleged treasurer in Franklin County’s moonshine conspiracy, was murdered in his car with his 38 revolver, shown here, in his hand. Jim Smith, a prisoner Richards was transporting to the county jail at the time, was also killed, but Smith had nothing to do with the conspiracy. Blue Ridge moonshining found itself in the national spotlight with the so-called Conspiracy Trial of 1935. Despite scores of busts by revenuers in the 1920s and early 1930s, the moonshining industry continued to thrive. In Franklin County officials were accepting protection fees from moonshiners, and the Sheriff himself oversaw the complex bribery system. Small-time bootleggers were squeezed out as money and power were consolidated. Between 1930 and 1935 local still operators and their business partners sold a volume of whiskey that would have generated $5,500,000 in excise taxes at the old 1920 tax rate. A federal investigation resulted in 34 people being indicted. Those charged included 19 moonshiners, one corporation, and nine government officials. Hired still hands take some of the greatest risks for a share of the profits from making illegal alcohol. Virginia Blue Ridge, circa 1960s. In a community atmosphere of threats and jury tampering, a key government witness (the man who served as treasurer of the Sheriff’s “granny fee” operation) was gunned down in his car on a country road along with a prisoner he was taking to jail on unrelated business. Two West Virginia men with connections to the illegal liquor trade were eventually convicted of the murders. Oral history tells of another witness dying under suspicious medical circumstances before he could testify. At the time, the tense trial was the longest in Virginia history. The murders, the high-profile defendants, and the mystique of moonshining made the conspiracy trial front page news. Newspaper readers loved the tales of whiskey making and hauling, including those of Mrs. Willie Carter Sharpe, “queen of Roanoke rum runners.” Thirty-one people were finally found guilty. The resulting jail sentences were relatively light (two years or less), and 13 conspirators only received probation. The fines levied were miniscule compared to the earnings of the major conspiracy participants. Even the short-term impact of the trial on Blue Ridge moonshining is difficult to judge. The industry certainly continued. Over 70 years later some old-timers voice strong opinions about the men who were acquitted. Adding to the mystery, parts of the trial records disappeared from courthouse files for decades. (Comment on this)
Sunday, December 6th, 2009
rhapsody_98	7:18p	There are nine TVA dams in the immediate area, Beaver Creek, Wautauga, Boone, South Holson, Clear Creek, Wilbur, Nolichukcy, Fort Patrick Henry, and Cherokee. Beaver Creek Dam in southwest Virginia was built in the 1960s to provide flood protection and recreation for the Bristol, Tennessee-Virginia, area. Beaver Creek is a flood detention dam with no permanent reservoir pool. The nearby city-managed park offers walking trails that ramble back and forth across the creek and dam area. The park also includes soccer and softball fields, as well as a picnic area and campground. Clear Creek Reservoir, adjacent to Beaver Creek, features a public golf course that unfolds around the scenic reservoir. The fishing docks at the reservoir are accessible via the golf course fairway. Beaver Creek Dam is also known as Sugar Hollow Dam, after the city park citing around it. After it was built, the builders found that the dam literally wouldn't hold water. The dam itself was structurally sound, but the water was seeping into a cave and being directed back into the water table. Since the dam was built almost exclusively for flood protection, this meant that it was essentially useless. Clear Creek Dam just a few miles away was built, and the valley behind flooded nicely, creating a lovely lake. With nothing else to do with the empty space, a golf course was arranged. This led to a lot of questions about why the dam was built in the first place. Recently a wetlands was built following the creek, and one can find turtles, frogs, fish, willows, ants, butterflies, ducks, geese, and all sorts of other wildlife. (Comment on this)
rhapsody_98	3:51p	We were watching tv, and I got the hiccups. Doug grabbed my hand, pulled it over to his knee, looked into my eyes and said "I'm pregnant. I'm pretty sure it's yours." He was so earnest, I got confused. "What?" I said, in between hiccups. "Well, they say a good scare is supposed to work." (Comment on this)