Fine Country for Young Men

This week marks the film release of Cormac McCarthy’s “No Country for Old Men”.

Cormac's had a big year- his book "The Road" won him the Pulitzer Prize; he was interviewed by Oprah Winfrey (although probably a dubious honor in most literary circles) and now the release of the much anticipated film version of his 2005 novel "No Country for Old Men". I always get a little rush when I see Cormac’s name on television (or in the newspaper or in bookstores) because Cormac was one of my father’s best friends growing up in South Knoxville. Personally, I’ve never met the man. However, through my father’s recollections, I feel as if I, like Dad, knew him back in the days before he became what the Houston Chronicle has deemed "America's Greatest Living Writer".

Cormac McCarthy grew up in the Vestal section of South Knoxville. He and his family relocated from Knoxville to the house on Martin Mill Pike while he was a young child. As a teenager, Cormac fell in with my father (who lived just down Neubert Springs Road from Martin Mill) and several of his running buddies. Cormac, or "Charlie" as he was known then, was a couple of years younger than Dad, and, as Dad admitted in a 2001 Metro Pulse article, was somewhat more intelligent than most of his peers.

Dad always said “Charlie was a little different; he had the blackest eyes I’ve ever seen and he always looked at things from a different angle than anyone else”. I could tell this was meant as a compliment rather than a critique, and "Charlie" was definitely no outcast among the roughnecks of Vestal. Throughout his life Dad would vividly recall countless adventures, and misadventures, he shared with "Charlie" and the rest of their crew in and around South Knoxville in the 1940's. A number of landmarks from their old stomping grounds, and more than a few details from their various experiences, would eventually find their way woven into the intricate plots of Cormac’s books.

The setting for his first novel, The Orchard Keeper, was drawn directly from the old peach orchard that ran along the crest of Brown’s Mountain around the turn of the century. (My grandfather’s property ran up the north face of Brown’s Mountain and the orchard road was the property’s southern boundary). The old road is still there, following the same route up the ridgeline to the "turnaround" at the highest summit of the mountain. From here you gain a gorgeous view of the Smokies to the south. Several years ago, having seen bulldozers up there and several acres of land cleared off, I was sure someone was planning to develop the property on the south side of the mountain. However, whatever development was planned at the time seems to have stopped, at least for the time being, as no further land has been cleared.

The turnoff of Martin Mill Pike leading up to the "turnaround" marks the semi-fictional location of the unfortunate "Green Fly Inn" that collapsed and slid off the side of the mountain in the novel. (This was apparently based on an actual event that had occurred at or near that location around the turn of the century, though I really can't recall any further detail from Dad's comments on it). An FAA signal station was erected on the site of the turnaround nearly 40 years ago and remains there today.

Along the road there are two concrete pits; one directly alongside the roadbed and another about 25 yards into the woods near the turnaround. The pits, each originally about 6 feet deep, were used by workers at the old orchard for mixing the insecticide that was applied to the peach trees lining either side of the road. Dad tells of he and his friends coming upon one of the pits while hunting at dusk dark one evening and, gazing down, seeing white ribs poking up through the rotten leaves and mire. While it was quickly determined that the corpse was that of a dead pig someone had conveniently discarded into the pit, the event obviously made enough of an impression on young "Charlie" that the image would later morph into a slightly more sinister scene in "The Orchard Keeper".

In Cormac's novel "Suttree", the main character happens upon an old mansion on the south bluffs of the Tennessee River and surprises a group of young vandals. This was the old Peter Blow Mansion; the abandoned home of a deceased Knoxville industrialist and a favorite haunt for boys of the area at the time. The home stood atop the bluffs overlooking what is now Cherokee Boulevard across the river. The Speedwell estate now occupies the property.

Cormac's many descriptions of South Knoxville contained within that particular book capture perfectly that brokedown but still vibrant feel of the area during the 50's and 60's. We used to visit my grandmother there when I was young, and the book conjured for me many of the old feelings and impressions I had of Vestal and of South Knoxville even in the late 60's and early 70's. Of course, his eye for detail and the degree to which his descriptions contribute to the texture of his stories is where Cormac's genius truly lies.

Dad last saw Cormac in probably one of the least auspicious locations imaginable- the McDonald's out on Cedar Bluff Road. Dad was on his way to a church function and Cormac, who had apparently been visiting here in town, had stopped in on his way back to points west. They visited briefly, catching up as best they could for two men whose lives had diverged so completely over the years. After saying goodbye, Dad turned to my mother and said "You know, I never would have recognized Charlie if it hadn't been for those black eyes".

I really wish Dad could have lived just another year. As much as he loved literature, it would have been particularly gratifying for him to see his old friend finally win the Pulitzer.

Saying Goodbye to Mason's Corner

Last week the girls and I were in South Knoxville and decided to take a drive out by my grandparent's old farm on Neubert Springs Road. As we turned west off of West Ford Valley Road onto Neubert Springs, I noticed bulldozers in the field adjacent to what was once my aunt and uncle's place. It appears the field is being developed- possibly for the first time ever. I felt a tangible pang when I saw hundreds of square feet of red earth scarring the familar green of the field.

The property at the corner of Neubert Springs and what is now West Ford Valley Road has bordered our family's original 250 acres since the late 1790's. The property was originally known as "Mason's Corner", most likely because of the wedge shape formed by the borders between the Moore holdings on the west and the Anderson property immediately to the northeast. The land was owned by Abigail Mason, a widow who, with her late husband Edward, had originally homesteaded the property around the turn of the century. Neubert Springs Road was then known as Pickens Gap Road, and West Ford Valley road didn't exist at all. (When the road was built decades later, it's southern terminus would be drawn exactly along the old Mason property line as it enters Neubert Springs Road.)

The property was bought from Abigail Mason in the 1830 's by John Doyle. John built a cabin just off the road, immediately in front of where the first modern house on the right (my aunt and uncle's old place) now stands. The following is a brief paraphrase written by my father from the recollections of "Aunt" Parthenia Ford, John Doyle's oldest daughter. Parthenia, who grew up in the cabin, had described for my father the night of her elopement with a young Union officer-

"It was the night of August 31, 1867, and the John Doyle family had bedded down for the evening at their home on Pickens Gap Pike. In the upstairs bedroom, Parthenia, the Doyles’ oldest daughter, had gone to bed fully dressed under her nightgown. Parthenia was waiting for a signal. What must have seemed like an eternity passed before she heard the sound she’d been breathlessly anticipating. The sharp staccato of a horse’s hooves came to her in the still night, the sound rising as the horse neared, and then waning as the horse passed the small house at a gallop and continued down the pike toward the gap. Parthenia sprung to her feet, as she knew well the sounds of John Agee’s horse, and crossed to the outside door to the loft. Parthenia also knew full well that the horse had not made it as far as the gap, but rather had turned and was waiting with its young rider in the cemetery a scant quarter mile down from the Doyle’s home. With the aid of her younger sister Lindy, Parthenia quietly descended the outside staircase from the loft, and crossed the yard behind the home to the family’s outhouse. Once there, she quickly pulled her nightgown over her head and hung the garment on a hook on the inside of the latrine door. Then, probably without a glance backward, Parthenia ran across her father’s fields to the wooded cemetery on the other side. There her betrothed, the dashing young John Agee Ford, waited for her astride his horse. Parthenia later reported that she stood atop a tombstone as the young man scooped her up into his arms, the couple then riding off into the night, their wedding night, with all the reckless uncertainty of youth."

Now heavy equipment and digging machines are at work in the field Parthenia crossed between her father's house and the old cemetery nearly 140 years ago. A few months from now it will be rendered into office buildings or maybe a convenience store. Progress is inevitable, but I can't help but feel a stab of poignancy knowing that Mason's Corner, its fields left undeveloped through 200 years of settlement, is now undeniably lost forever.

Showing Up

I've never really felt inclined to be a blogger- I seriously doubt anyone cares what I have to say about much of anything. I'm therefore going to try to use this site not to editorialize but as a place to post a few items of interest regarding our family and this community. Knoxville's a cool place with an interesting history so maybe having a place where I can highlight just a little of that will be of value to someone somewhere.