Col. Osterhaus dispatched 12 men to move upriver and search for the mine. Lt. Schon Haas was placed in command of the detail and warned not to use force against the settlers. Should he need food or hay, Haas was to pay for it in gold and not issue the usual promissory notes. There would be no record kept of the mission as it might prove a failure.
Osterhaas moved south loading wagon after wagon with meats, sorghum, corn and hay, headed toward Curtis' headquarters. Contrary to his orders, a U. S. promissory note was issued to everyone whose goods were confiscated instead of the required gold.
On May 19, 1862, Osterhaas crossed the Little Red and four days later arrived at at Searcy Landing. He immediately ran head on into Confederate Col. Johnson and his Texas Cavalry, and a furious battle ensued.
This was the Battle of Whitney's Lane. Osterhaas lost 100 men whom he buried in a trench along the river bank. As soon as he could regroup, he headed back for Camp Lynn.
In the meantime, Shon Haas and his men were having to travel slowly because of the virgin growth along the river. Finally, they rounded a mountain and emerged abruptly into a cleared valley. To the right ran the river and ahead and to the left stood majestic green mountains. The field was planted in corn.
Haas led his detail around the field toward a group of cabins. They were met by three men, seemingly all in their fifties. A dozen or so small children huddled together, watching wide-eyed.
Lt. Haas learned the settlers were a group of Presbyterians from Tennessee. No Confederate soldiers were there, but several wives, sweethearts, and mothers of soldiers had come from surrounding settlements in search of a refuge. Haas asked permission to camp nearby until morning.
The leader of the settlement was a man named Johnny Patton. He had come to the valley some 15 years previously, he said, to make a new home for his family and several followers of the same faith. They built the cabins and cleared the land. Another of the men was Jones Watson, who lived a mile around the mountain in a settlement known as Judson (now Pangburn). The lieutenant asked Patton about the lead mine. Patton said there was such a ledge five miles to the southwest. He said Osage Indians used to tell of a great trembling of the earth many years before that left a ledge of pure silver uncovered.
Hearing of the silver, Patton and Jones Watson made a trip to the site. They found the alleged silver to be lead -- but of an unbelievably high quality.
The old man went into his cabin and returned with a chunk of ore about three inches square. He placed the ore on the soldiers cook fire and Haas saw it melt slowly and trickle into the blaze.
Patton said the last time he had visited the mine someone had dug back into the hillside and it was caving in. Part of the vein was still exposed. He figured the Confederate Searcy Border Rangers (home guard) had dug the ore out, as a number of wagon tracks could be seen in the ravine below. Haas asked Patton for directions to the mine, and they were readily given. Early the next morning, the lieutenant and his men were up and heading out of the valley. After about three hours they came upon the summit of a much higher mountain that broke suddenly into a deep ravine. Far below they could hear water tumbling over a fall.
Across the ravine was the disturbed earth Patton had mentioned. To the right Haas could see the dull shine of the exposed ore.
Haas crossed the ravine to examine the vein more closely. He judged it to be about six inches wide at the surface, angling slightly downward and into the mountain side. He calculated there was an unlimited amount of ore. But because of the rough terrain he did not think it could be mined profitably by either the North or the South.
Before nightfall, Haas and his men were back at the settlement. Haas talked with Patton telling him of his findings. It would be senseless to recommend to his superiors to fortify the diggings, he said. Neither would he advise using demolitions to destroy the mine, as he did not think it would be valuable to the Confederates, either.
Next morning the two men shook hands and the Union detail departed. Haas told the old man he hoped their next meeting would be more pleasant -- and sooner than anticipated.
Haas did return to Patton Hollow but not for long. It seems he saw one of Aunt Mishie's older sisters, and it was love at first sight. Unfortunately, when he returned she had already married someone else.
Aunt Mishie told me the mine was in Waterfall Hollow. I have been there many times but have failed to find any clue as to its whereabouts. This past winter I was looking over a geological map of West Pangburn triangle, and to my surprise found not one but two Waterfall Hollows. They lie parallel but only about two miles apart.
At my age I have lost the desire to hunt for this lost mine, but it could be an adventure for a younger treasure hunter. s/ Ray D. Rains. This anecdote is one of the more detailed to survive the civil war in my section of Arkansas. Judsonia's Evergreen Cemetery has a centrally located large burial site with monument provided by the D.A.R. with a dozen or more graves containing Yankee soldiers. It was the central focus for Memorial Days and Armistice day ceremonies during my youth and I was frequently placed on the program to bugle "taps" at the end of the ceremony.
The Civil War and its aftermath provided one major American historic event to which subsequent happenings were compared and rated. I recall only one or two Spanish-American war veterans, but WW I provided a host of them and the local chapter of The American Legion became a hub for perpetuating patriotism, even during the great depression.
I recall in the early WW II years Mr. Figley coming by either the drug store or our house one evening to discuss with Dad an opportunity he had to purchase some 10,000 acres of additional wooded bottom lands which flooded every spring to serve as a forest reserve for the factory. He was a man who characteristically kept his own counsel, and I was impressed that he evidenced some apprehension in seeking to raise the cash in the amount of $10,000 as best I recall to complete the purchase, but dad concurred that it appeared to represent an excellent business opportunity. Someway Mr Figley closed the deal and following the war the unharvested residual of that land was sold by the heirs for a sum of several million, I was told.
Charles Figley, Jr. and Arle Queen had earned their commissions via the ROTC while attending Ouachita College in Arkadelphia, Ark. and served actively in the South Pacific; Charles was wounded while engaged in battling a Japanese tank on New Guinea for which he received the Purple Heart and a silver star or two. Modestly, he declined to discuss these exploits in much depth with any of us, indicating he preferred to attempt to forget the entire war a quickly as possible.
Upon their return from the war Charles married Kathryn Roth; Arle married Dorothy Figley and they embarked upon a dedicated campaign to convert the "box factory" to the production of veneer lumber since the strawberry industry locally was entering a near fatal thros [sic]. One objective was to save a viable factory for the town, and for several years they appeared to succeed. But eventually they found themselves unable to fiscally compete with the products produced by the Japanese; another example where the loser of the war became victorious in the winners homeland. How ironic and locally tragic!
Sandlot baseball was very popular in the small towns of Arkansas during my earliest recall, and Judsonia fielded a successful team for years. The diamond was located in a pasture in depot town and the park area was mowed at least weekly. Cars and spectators would line up along first and third base lines and performances often approximated those of semi-pro leagues. I don't recall many details other than Jimmy pitching, Booter at short, and big Jack Woods at first. Local attendance was good and opponents from either a neighboring town or some other small town within the state. Football (high school) functioned similarly and was played in Beals pasture above overflow creek. The problem for small schools was insufficient numbers of male pupils from which to identify adequate talent for a team and the transportation needs between and among the towns was formidable.
I recall our Judsonia private sector band playing for a couple of games in the 1930's but the teams were not sufficiently successful to financially support the trappings of a team.
Dad usually owned a couple of small plots of farmland run by sharecroppers in keeping with his rearing and genuine love for the soil. In addition to a couple of cows from which we were afforded fresh milk daily there were usually provisions for at least a couple of mules to be used for a wagon and plowing purposes, and a few horses. Most of the time one of the horses was designated as "mine" for pleasure riding and I could ride it to and from town. One of the first was a gentle red-brown steed for which I had a western saddle and bridle. A couple of us played "Red Ryder" in and out of Huntley's Woods. This steed was followed in the mid 1930's by a Palomino white with brown spots which I was guided to select from a horse trading lot adjacent to the Rhew store, and promptly was christened "Buttons". I had a great time with Buttons over the time we kept her and she foaled one brown and white colt. However the farm was a sufficiently distant from home that riding became an effort in logistics and Buttons was sold after a couple of years. Mishaps were possible and two come into my recall. One was during a summer visit by the Norths from Washington and both girls were allowed to try their skills. They did well, but on one afternoon Janis inadvertently guided Buttons (Janis constantly asserted that her mother led Buttons) under a clothesline and her first awareness of it was when she felt the wire slipping under her neck threatening to choke her and cause a dismount. Fortunately the pace was a slow stroll and one of us reigned in the horse and helped Janis off. She sustained some painful abrasions, but no serious damage.
On another outing Russell Browning and I were riding Buttons in the Red river bottoms adjacent to the levee and on the return home I decided to let her gallop for a few minutes. I was in the saddle with Russell mounted behind me. We were in loose sand when Buttons stumbled and fell forward throwing us up and over her head. The sand served as a cushion to break our fall and we were more startled than hurt, and Buttons also was uninjured. Had we been on gravel or a rocky surface the outcome could have been different. But we shook off the sand, remounted and rode on home without further incident. The horses were fun but I never became expert with or unduly infatuated with them, which undoubtedly emphasizes some sort of a character deficit on my part.
My maternal grandmother who lived some three or four blocks to our north in her home on Judson Avenue was an important family figure during my childhood, and she and mother remained very close. Following Mona's marriage she enjoyed traveling to/from their home in Downers Grove, Ill. during several springtimes, via Chicago, of course, and she carefully mailed postal cards to me. Uncle Bud worked in a Chicago post office and also resided on the western "Burlington route" suburb of Downers Grove.
I believe it was the Christmas of 1932 when I contracted rubeola (measles) during an extended period living with "Mama" because she was entering what proved to be her final illness. I was bedded in a front room of her house. As the measles began to fade I "broke out" with full-blown varicella (chickenpox). Mona and Romona joined us for the holidays and we had our tree in a corner of my bedroom, and I recall that Santa left Romona a small electric kitchen stove.
In the spring/summer of 1933 a major World's Fair was held in Chicago and mother and I visited the North's in Downer's Grove and the Fair. We traveled in a Pullman car on the Missouri Pacific from Bald Knob to Chicago, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I think we stayed for between two and three weeks, commuting into Chicago two or three times weekly on the Burlington Route for the Fair. It was based in McCormick Park with two large lagoons spanned by the Skyride suspended on cables with its cars named for Amos 'n Andy characters.
A similar fair was held in 1935 which we also attended for a shorter time. [... handwritten note about a state fair around 1938 at a school for the deaf is illegible. Dad was a doctor, after all...]
In the year 1939 I attained the mature age of 16 and thought I was becoming quite grown up. Dad owned a blue Pontiac sedan which he selectively allowed me to use after I secured my drivers license. That spring was one in which the JHS basketball team had a number of out-of-town games to which I was permitted to transport up to three additional members as long as mother accompanied us. We experienced no difficulties that I recall, but the required distances occasionally meant we were well after midnight before arriving home.
The "Glomers" did well that year led by J.S. "Sneezeweed" Hoffman, Bill Taylor, Charles Bauer, Phillip Walters, and Waymon Goree. We won the first round of the State tournament but experienced a surprise upset by dark horse New Eidenburg prior to the finals to our great disappointment. However, we were awarded red Jackets with white leather sleeves with a large J for those who lettered because no recent JHS team had gotten so far in a state tournament. The jackets had white leather sleeves and were well worn by the fall of the year when we reported for the following season. This was the same year in which movie GONE WITH THE WIND was released with great fanfare across America. The team was treated with a trip to Little Rock to attend a matinee to which we proudly wore the new jackets. GWTW, highly publicized, concluded with Rhett Butler (Clark Gable) stating to Scarlett O'Hara (Vivian Leigh) something to the effect of "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." This use of language had been vigorously debated by the oversight Hayes Office, but was re-debated in some of the homes of Judsonia before the school board approved the team outing as appropriate.
Our admission to the theatre cost $1 each, exorbitant for the day when the usual rate was anywhere from 10 to 25 cents, very rarely 35 cents. Our reward was enhanced further by being excused from school for the day!
The next World's Fair attended was in New York (Flushing Meadows) in 1939, another very eventful year which the Norths and I visited on a short couple of days before sailing in August on The United Fruit's Line Talamanca for Panama, via Cuba and Costa Rica. Postal officials conducted a Havana city tour for us ending before the huge Sloppy Joe's Saloon around bedtime aboard the Talamanca. We sailed overnight for Costa Rica landing some forty eight hours later at the port of Puerto Limon where stalks of huge green bananas were carried on board by a single worker one at a time and refrigerated for the return voyage to New York City. We walked a short distance from the gangplank to board a very narrow gauge railroad where the remainder of the day was spent journeying thru seemingly endless coffee plantations. I could extend my arm out the open window and pluck coffee beans direct from the bush or tree.
I was also enthralled by the ability to peer down a steep river bank and identify a large number of alligators or crocodiles sunning themselves on sandbars. We spent what I recall as two nights in a big hotel in the capital city of San Jose, again being afforded local tours and historical orientation at the courtesy of local postal officials. It was then only an overnight trip for the Talamanca from Port Limon to Cristobal, Canal Zone, also known as Gatun or. However this leg of the voyage was the closest I've been to becoming seasick because the backside of a hurricane caused the ship to roll significantly. The pitch was not troublesome for me but the roll caused anorexia and a touch of nausea. I recall spending a prolonged portion of the evening "on deck" where the unpleasant effects were greatly diminished. A standard gauge train transported us to the Miraflores LOCKS, the Galliard Cut and Pedro Miguel Locks and onward to the Pacific side at Balboa/Panama City. Mr. North had official duties at the first day sale of the U. S. stamp commemorating the 25th anniversary of opening the Panama Canal. The official sale/ceremonies were held aboard the USS Charleston in Balboa. The admiral marched we three youngsters to the mess where he presented each of us with a cone of cherry ice cream made on board which I recall as being excellent. It was only a few months thereafter that the admiral was swept overboard during a hurricane and lost at sea.
Our return voyage from Cristobal was on the United Fruit Lines sister ship Veragua and featured an afternoon/evening stop in Kingston, Jamaica. In the luxurious gardens there we witnessed a movie being filmed by a large production unit on location. While at sea between Kingston and New York the ship's morning newspaper slipped under the door headlined Hitler's invasion of Poland and the world was at war. A couple of American destroyers were encountered at a distance, for our entire Eastern seaboard was placed on alert and being closely patrolled for German U boats.
I think Dad sent Mr. North $500 for my share of expenses for this magnificat trip and educational outing. How times and costs have changed!
In 1927 Judsonia had experienced a spring flood covering the "downtown" area and paddle and row boats appeared in the street in front of the house and upon Judson Avenue, an experience I recall repeated in 1935. After the latter Dad personally purchased a low-lying pasture slightly west of town through which head- and backwater gained entry to the downtown area and caused the flooding. A levee was constructed which subsequently protected the "downtown" from most of the spring flooding, but it was not entirely controlled until the 1960's when a large concrete dam was built at Greer's ferry near Heber Springs. The dam was dedicated by President John F. Kennedy.
1932 election of FDR
SCOUTING
Chapter 4 1935 - 1939
Stover and I enrolled in troop 62 of the Boy Scouts of America around Nov. 27, 1935. Scoutmaster was Rev. Ted Masters pastor of the North Methodist Church who was at least partially encouraged to take over and rejuvenate the troop by former Scoutmaster Bert Briggs who was visibly aging but a marvelous gentleman always interested in boys and scouting and civic affairs. He had an extensive background in journalism and the church. As I recall we pitched in with enthusiasm and passed the tenderfoot tests within the first couple of weeks. Statutory time lapsed were required to move up to the 2nd class rank in addition to stipulated scouting skills a rank we were awarded on April 21, 1936. We had little difficulty in recruiting additional troop members. We moved up to second class on April 21, 1936, and first class on Aug. 25th.