Tag Archives: Kentucky

Dr. Cecil L. Hudgins grave (2015)

15 Sunday Feb 2015

Posted by in Big Sandy Valley, Cemeteries, Lincoln County Feud, Logan

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Dr. Cecil L. Hudgins was one of two physicians who treated Hollena Brumfield after her ambush. At the time of the Lincoln County Feud, Dr. Hudgins lived in Logan, WV. Earlier today, I visited his grave in Ashland, Kentucky.

 

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Dr. Cecil L. Hudgins was one of two physicians who treated Hollena Brumfield after her ambush. At the time of the Lincoln County Feud, Dr. Hudgins lived in Logan, WV. He later settled in Olive Hill, Kentucky. Earlier today, I visited his grave in Ashland, Kentucky.

 

Whirlwind 11.10.1911

21 Sunday Dec 2014

Posted by in Big Harts Creek, Holden, Timber, Whirlwind

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“J.M.,” a local correspondent at Whirlwind in Upper Hart, Logan County, West Virginia, offered the following items on October 13, which the Logan Banner printed on Friday, November 10, 1911:

We are having plenty of rain in this section.

Jerry Sias was here on business Thursday.

S. Riddell made a business trip to Logan Thursday.

Mrs. Mollie Dalton was out shopping Wednesday.

Moses Tomblin returned to his work at Holden Sunday.

Miss Willson, of Roane county, is teaching the Dalton school this term.

Mrs. F.F. Riddell and daughter, Miss Pattie, were calling on Mrs. S. Riddell, of this place, Thursday.

A. F. Gore and Will Dingess passed this place on their way to Holden on Thursday.

George Mullins was calling on friends recently.

James Mullins was calling on his best girl Thursday.

Deputy Sheriff T.J. Wysong was around serving court papers Monday.

Thomas Carter, of Brown’s Run, was calling on Mullins & Riddell one day recently.

Mrs. Dicey Bush was shopping at Whirlwind Tuesday.

Miss Georgia Lowe was visiting Mullins & Riddell’s store Tuesday.

Crockett Farley transacted business here Wednesday.

Carter Workman passed through the city Thursday.

Elias Workman left Monday for Pike county, Ky., where he will take charge of a large timber job for J.I. Johnson.

Gordon Farley, the leading cross-tie man of Whirlwind, was in the city one day recently.

Union veterans of Chapmanville District (1890)

07 Sunday Sep 2014

Posted by in Chapmanville, Civil War

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During the War Between the States, the Chapmanville area of what is today Logan County, West Virginia, strongly supported the Confederacy. Logan County’s loyalty to the Confederacy was quite overwhelming. Its citizens supported secession and opposed the creation of West Virginia. Well over ninety-percent of all local veterans were Confederates. A few local men, however, did serve in the Union Army. At least seven Yankee soldiers lived in Chapmanville District after the war.

In June of 1890, Edwin F. Mitchell, enumerator of the federal census, made his way through Chapmanville District gathering information about local residents who had served in the U.S. Army, Navy, and Marine Corps during the late war. He ultimately compiled a short list of residents who had served the Union cause: Sidney T. Woody, Patterson Riffe, Martin Van Buren Prince, William Kelley, Robert Vanderpool, John Rose, and Allen K.M. Browning. It was a mixed bag of Yankees with hard-to-read loyalties. At least four of them were post-war settlers of the Chapmanville area, having served in Tennessee or Kentucky units. One of these migrants was an unenthusiastic Yankee who had been pressed into service by Federal troops. And of the two pre-war Logan County residents — Riffe and Prince — one served in both Confederate and Union military units. Regardless, these seven men reflected a very small percentage of the local population. In 1880, according to census schedules, Logan County had a population of 6,170 male residents and 1,795 families.

Sidney T. Woody, the first veteran listed by Mitchell in the 1890 census, was born around 1852 to Sidney and Anna (Tyree) Woody in North Carolina. During the war, from 1864-1865, he served as a private in a Tennessee regiment. By 1870, he was a resident of Logan District with his parents. In 1874, he married Sally Ann Handy, a daughter of William and Charlotte (Doss) Handy, in Logan County. They were the parents of at least ten children. Woody initially lived in Logan District with his family but spent his last years in the Chapmanville area.

Patterson Riffe, the second veteran identified in the 1890 census, was born on April 18, 1844 to Peter and Jane (Perry) Riffe in Logan County. In 1867, he married Martha B. Thomas, a daughter of David and Margaret (Mullins) Thomas, in Chapmanville. They were the parents of at least eight children. Early in the Civil War, Riffe served in Company A of the 1st Cavalry State Line (Confederate). In the latter part, from April 15, 1862 until August 8, 1865, he was a private with Company I of the 7th West Virginia Cavalry (Union). According to military records, Riffe was six feet tall with a fair complexion, gray eyes, and brown hair. He suffered a war-related injury caused by a horse falling on his leg. Riffe and his family were listed in the 1870, 1880, and 1900 censuses as occupants of Chapmanville District. He died on January 31, 1920 at Big Creek in Logan County.

Martin Van Buren Prince, the third person listed in the 1890 census, was born around 1835. Around 1856, he married Sarah Jane Carter, a daughter of Barney and Mahulda (Mullins) Carter, residents of the Hoover Fork of Harts Creek. Carter was a well-known Confederate officer in the war. During the war, Prince served as a private in Company F of the 5th Virginia Infantry. His dates of service were from August 10, 1861 until June 26, 1863. In 1884, Prince was listed in a business directory as “Van B. Prince, physician,” at Warren, a post office on Harts Creek in Lincoln County.

William Kelley, the fourth veteran in the 1890 census, was born around 1820 to Bryon Kelley in Wise or Tazewell County, Virginia. Around 1841, he married Hannah Osborne, with whom he had at least eight children. In 1850, he was a resident of Tazewell County. During the war, from November 4, 1862 until August 15, 1865, Kelley served in Company C of the 19th Kentucky Infantry. According to family tradition, Kelley was pressed into service by Yankees. “A bunch of Yankee recruiters came to Grandpa’s home and forced him to join up,” said the late Marshall Kelley of Harts. “He said he had to take his son with him because the rebels might come and kill him. Harvey was only about fifteen so they didn’t want him to go. But he went with Grandpa and was with him the whole time. He didn’t do any fighting. He just worked in the camp.” In 1870, Kelley was a resident of Pike County, Kentucky. Throughout the 1870s and early 1880s, Kelley fathered five or more children by different women before marrying Nancy Branham. They were the parents of at least five children. In the late 1880s, around 1888, Kelley sold his farm near Wise, Virginia and moved to the present-day site of the Main Harts Creek Fire Department. In 1890 or 1891, he sold out there to Tom Farley, his son-in-law, and moved back to Kentucky. Kelley died in February of 1902 in Cumberland, Kentucky or Clintwood, Virginia.

Robert Lee Vanderpool, the fifth Union man listed in the 1890 census, was born around 1849 to Jim and Sally (Beverly) Vanderpool. During the war, from May 1, 1864 until March 11, 1865, Vanderpool was a sergeant in Company G of the 1st Kentucky Infantry. Around 1871, Vanderpool married Becky Aurelia Murray, a daughter of Hiram and Francis (Thornsberry) Murray. He and Becky made their home in the Chapmanville District, where they reared at least seven children.

John Rose, the sixth person in the 1890 census, enlisted in Company G of the 1st Kentucky Infantry on the same day as Vanderpool. He was a private and was killed in battle during the war. In the 1880 census, Rose’s widow, Parline, was listed in the Chapmanville District of Logan County with four children. In 1890, Parline was still a widow and living at Warren. By 1900, no Roses lived in Logan County.

The last Union veteran listed in Mitchell’s 1890 enumeration was Allen K.M. Browning. During the war, Allen was a private in Company C of the 9th Virginia Infantry. He enlisted on January 15, 1862. He claimed some type of rupture as a war-related injury. In 1870, no one by Browning’s name lived in Logan County; in 1880, however, two local men appear by the name of “A.M. Browning.” One, aged 56, lived in the Logan District and was married with four children. The other, aged 45, lived in the Magnolia District and was married with six children. By 1900, there were no A.M. Brownings in Logan County census records.

In Search of Ed Haley 355

19 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by in Ed Haley, Harts, Holden, Music

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The next day, Brandon and I visited Reece Tackett, a banjo-picker who lived in a nice yellow house just up West Fork. Reece was born in 1909 and raised around Grayson in eastern Kentucky. His grandfather, Jim Tackett, was a fiddler from the Red River area of Arkansas who played for square dances in large farmhouses. He taught Reece’s father, John Tackett, how to play the fiddle. Reece said his father played “the old way — not flashy.” He used a homemade fiddle and “had to go to pine trees to get rosin.” He moved to a farm about nine miles from Grayson, where he made fiddles and played close to home, never as far away as Portsmouth, Ohio.

Reece said he moved to Holden in Logan County when he was sixteen to work with his uncle and brother in the coalmines. He used to watch Ed Haley and his wife play “beautiful” tunes like “Arkansas Traveler” on weekends at the Logan Courthouse. He said Ed wasn’t a big man and had fingers “about like a lead pencil.” His wife played the mandolin.

“She was pretty good on her singing,” Reece said. “She was dressed like the real old ladies. She had the long dress on and the apron.”

Ella kept a cup fastened to herself somehow.

“I’ve tossed many a nickel and dime in their cup,” Reece said.

Sometimes, people would pretend to put money in their cup and then steal from it.

Ed was usually paid about ten or fifteen cents per tune. There were no dollars and most of the coal miners were paid in company script.

Reece said he moved to Harts in 1946 and had no idea that Ed was from Trace Fork or even lived in Ashland.

Interview with James Davis of Harts, WV (1997)

17 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by in Big Harts Creek, Culture of Honor, Harts, Lincoln County Feud

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That evening, Brandon and I met up with Billy Adkins and went to see James Davis on West Fork. James lived on Spring Branch of West Fork, a little hollow just across the creek from Iris Williams. A few years back, his older brother Charlie had told Brandon about seeing Ed win a twenty dollar gold piece in a contest at the old Chapmanville High School.

We found the eighty-something-year-old James laying on the couch with a little fuzzy dog crawling all over him like a monkey. He said he didn’t remember Ed, so I mentioned how he was Milt Haley’s son, which got an immediate reaction. He had heard the story of Milt’s death from Cat Fry, although he didn’t immediately offer up any details. Actually, James was hesitant to talk about the 1889 murders — almost as if the participants were still around and living next door. His answers to our questions were very evasive.

We learned from James that it was Bill Fowler (not John Runyon or Ben Adams) who hired Milt and Green to ambush Al. It was all over competition between businesses. Fowler was a saloon operator and a gristmill operator, while Brumfield ran a log boom.

“They was all there making money,” he said. “You know how that stirs up trouble. Some a making a little more money than others. They was bucking one another, like money men does.”

Milt and Green ambushed Al and Hollena one Sunday as they rode down the creek on a single horse after a visit with Henderson Dingess. In the attack, Mr. Brumfield was shot through the arm, while his wife was shot in the face. Milt and Green were soon captured in Kentucky by the Adkinses and Brumfields, who held them them at Fry. Neither man would admit to anything so John Brumfield shot one of them in the head. He reputedly put his toe at the hole and said, “I put a bullet right there.”

Brumfield was himself shot in the head a few years later.

French Bryant, “who was pretty hard to handle,” was also involved in the killings.

Afterwards, people were afraid to touch Milt’s and Green’s bodies until Ben Walker allowed them to be buried on his property. The whole event “shook people up pretty bad.” Fowler sold out at the mouth of Harts and moved away.

Big Creek News 05.24.1923

11 Monday Aug 2014

Posted by in Big Creek, Leet, Logan, Toney

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An unnamed local correspondent from Big Creek in Logan County, West Virginia, offered the following items, which the Lincoln Republican printed on Thursday, May 24, 1923:

The Operetta given Saturday night by the Glee Club was enjoyed by many citizens of Big Creek. The Operetta was a great success and shows great talent among the girls of this place.

Miss Mayhill Ferrell spent the weekend with relatives in Logan.

Mr. Bill Vance made a business trip to Huntington Thursday.

Miss Hazel Toney has returned to her position in the Sheriff’s office in Logan, after a visit to home folks here.

Mr. Willie Harmon is in Charleston on business.

Dr. Whithill was called to Leet recently to see Miss Wealthy Lambert, who is very ill with measles.

Miss Opal Hager is spending the week with relatives at Spears.

Uncle Brad Toney, of Toney, was the recent guest of relatives here.

Miss Georgia Lilly, who has been ill for some time, was removed to the Guyan Valley Hospital Sunday.

Rev. J. Green McNeely, of Logan, was a visitor here Sunday.

Mr. W.B. Toney motored to Logan Sunday to see the big ball game.

Jessie Toney, of this place is in Louisville, Ky., attending the dental college.

Mrs. Alta Gill was a Huntington visitor Sunday.

In Search of Ed Haley 352

08 Friday Aug 2014

Posted by in Chapmanville, Ed Haley, John Hartford, Music

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The next day, Brandon and I got Mona to ride around town and show us some of the places where Ed played, as well as where he’d made the home recordings on 17th Street. In the car, she tried to recount the places the family had lived since her birth at Horse Branch in 1930.

The first place she remembered was an old brown house built on a slope at Halbert Street. This was the place where Ralph built the trap door.

When Mona was seven or eight years old, the family moved to 337 37th Street.

When she was about thirteen, they moved to 105 17th Street. She lived there in 1944 when she married Wilson Mullins and moved away to Chapmanville, near Harts. After her divorce, she moved back to 17th Street. At that time, Ed was separated from Ella and living in West Virginia.

For a brief spell, the Haleys lived at 5210 45th Street. Rosie Day lived nearby in a basement apartment.

Around 1948, the family moved to 1040 Greenup Avenue. Mona lived there when she married Kenny Smith and moved to South Point, Ohio.

Around 1950, Ed, Ella, Lawrence, Pat, and little Ralph moved to 2144 Greenup Avenue. Jack and Patsy lived there for a while because Patsy — who was pregnant with twins — wanted to be near the hospital. It was there that Ed passed away in February of 1951.

Thereafter, Ella stayed intermittently with Lawrence and Pat in Ashland or with Jack and Patsy in Cleveland until her death in 1954.

Brandon and I drove Mona around town later and she pointed out the sight of the Catlettsburg stock sale, where she remembered Ed making “good money” around 1935-36. She also directed us to at least three different locations of Jean Thomas’ “Wee House in the Wood.” One was remodeled into an office building and used by the county board of education, while another was out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere on a wooden stage in a valley surrounded by tall grass. Brandon and I thought this latter location was almost surreal, like something out of a weird dream.

Later at dinner, Mona told us what happened to her records.

“I sent Clyde some records when he was in San Quentin, California but he never brought them back with him,” she said.

I told her that some guy named Junius Martin had brought Lawrence some of Ed’s recordings and she said, “Seems like Junius Martin was one of Pop’s drinking buddies. I thought his name was Julius.”

In Search of Ed Haley 351

07 Thursday Aug 2014

Posted by in Ed Haley, John Hartford

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Early in December, Brandon and I met at Pat Haley’s. All of our excitement focused on the upcoming meeting with Owsley’s forensic team, although it wasn’t long until we were in the familiar routine of asking Pat and Mona questions. Mostly they spoke of Ralph, a key player in Ed’s story. It was Ralph who recorded Ed’s and Ella’s music. Pat said Patsy knew a lot about Ralph, so she called her in Cleveland.

Patsy said Ralph was a nice and intelligent person.

“All the kids looked up to him when they were growing up,” she said.

As far as Patsy knew, Ralph never had any contact with his real father but he did take the last name of Payne when he was older.

Around 1936, Ralph married Margaret Ryan, an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old Cincinnati girl. The newlyweds took up residence with Ed and Ella, and Ralph stopped drinking (at his wife’s insistence). Margaret remained living with the Haleys during the war, when Ralph was overseas fighting the Japanese.

During the war, Ralph had an affair with a Filipino woman named Celeste, who Pat said bore him a son. Mona thought he actually married Celeste. According to her, his plan was to “set” Margaret up after the war, divorce her and return to his Filipino bride. He had Celeste’s name tattooed on his body. When he returned home from the war, he told Margaret, when she saw his tattoo, that Celeste had been the name of his ship. Ralph and Margaret soon left Ashland and moved to Cincinnati.

It was around that time that Patsy came into the family. She said she married Jack in California on October 25, 1946 and met Ed the following Thanksgiving in Ashland. She and Jack moved in with him for three months at 105 17th Street. Mona, Wilson Mullins, and little Ralph were also living there at the time. Jack only stayed for about three months because he couldn’t find work. Patsy said they moved out near Ralph in Cincinnati. Ella’s brother Allie Trumbo lived there, as did several of her close friends. Mona and her family soon followed them there and found an apartment in the same building.

Mona said Ralph’s thoughts were with Celeste: he was in the process of getting Margaret “set up” when tragedy intervened.

One Sunday in May of 1947, Jack, Patsy, Ralph, Margaret, Mona, Wilson, and little Ralph went fishing at a park about 25 miles outside of Cincinnati. At some point, Patsy said Ralph and Mona began talking about hanging upside down in a nearby tree. Mona climbed up the tree and Patsy took her picture. Then Ralph got in the tree and fell. As he lay on the ground, he told his family that his neck was broken and requested that they put a board under him until the doctors could arrive. Ralph was taken to a hospital where he told Ella, “When I bite down on the ice it makes a musical tone in my head.”

On Thursday, May 22, 1947, Ralph died at the age of 34. The family was afraid that Ella might hear of his death over the radio. She was staying at Mona’s apartment at the time.

On May 24 — Mona’s birthday — Ralph was buried in the Oak Hill Cemetery near Cincinnati. Patsy said Ed never made it to Ralph’s funeral, nor did Lawrence, who was in the service in Florida but Mona remembered that Lawrence was there on emergency leave. Someone played “Beautiful Isle of Somewhere”, Ralph’s favorite hymn.

Celeste later wrote Ella, mentioning how her son had an ear problem. When the family wrote to tell her of Ralph’s death, she figured they were making it up just so she would stop writing.

We figured that Ralph was Mona’s favorite brother since she had named her oldest son after him, but she said Jack was her favorite brother because he had taken up for her the most. She said Ella had been the one who named her son after Ralph. She also spoke highly of Noah, who contracted malaria and saw a lot of combat during World War II.

“Noah was good to send things home to Mom and Pop during the war,” Mona said. “And when he came home he laid carpet and fixed doorbells did things like that for Mom there at 17th Street.”

Noah went to Cleveland around 1950. Pat said Noah’s wife was a high-strung person. Their daughter Rosemary killed herself when she was eighteen. She wanted to get married but her mother protested, so she went into her brother’s room and shot herself in the head. In later years, Noah and Janet divorced. Pat said Noah’s son Jimmy really did a good job of looking after them. Janet died several years ago.

In Search of Ed Haley 350

06 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by in Ed Haley, John Hartford, Lincoln County Feud, Music

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After the contest, we all gathered at Pat Haley’s. The dining room table was crammed with food and the refrigerator was stuffed with every conceivable drink. People filled the downstairs rooms, many even spilling out onto the front and back porches. Once the kitchen was cleared, I got my fiddle and planted myself in a hard-back chair near Clyde and Noah. I immediately gave Mona a mandolin I’d brought so she could second me with those haunting “Ella chords.” Ugee perched nearby us in a chair where she hollered out the names of tunes and lyrics and even danced when she got too excited. We kept the music going, while Pat served up the food.

There were some new musical developments, little comments here and there that were important to know. When I played “Salt River”, for instance, Mona said it was the same tune as “Shove That Hog’s Foot”. She sang:

Shove that hog’s foot further in the bed,

Further in the bed, further in the bed.

Shove that hog’s foot further in the bed,

Katy, won’t you listen to me now?

Ugee said Ed had a way of making his fiddle sound like moonshine pouring from a jug when he played “Jimmy Johnson Bring Your Jug Around the Hill”. It took me a while to figure out what she meant by that.

As music filled the kitchen, Brandon was busy with Jimmy McCoy in the TV room. Jimmy knew very little about Green’s death, although he’d heard that the Brumfields killed him because they were jealous of his music. At some point, we got Jimmy to sit for pictures with all of Ed’s grandsons, mimicking the Milt and Green picture. Everyone did it, even those who weren’t really sure why they were sitting with a stranger crossing their legs and gripping invisible jacket cuffs.

I headed back to Nasvhille the next day but Brandon went to Harts with Jimmy, where he and Billy Adkins showed him the local sites…including the Haley-McCoy grave. Brandon figured it was the first time any of the McCoys had been to the grave in at least 45 years.

A month or so later, Brandon received a letter from Doug Owsley regarding the exhumation of the Haley-McCoy grave.

“Thanks for the McCoy family permissions for the excavations at the Haley/McCoy Burial Site,” it partly read. “I think that it will be advisable for me to make a short trip to West Virginia in advance of the arrival of the field crew to meet you and Mr. Hartford and to make a quick survey of the site area.”

A few letters and telephone calls later, we learned from Owsley that he wouldn’t be able to make the preliminary trip to Harts. However, he was sending two associates, who we were to meet at the Harts Fas Chek.

In Search of Ed Haley 349

05 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by in Ed Haley, John Hartford, Music

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In September, Brandon and I met in Ashland for the “Second Annual Ed Haley Memorial Fiddle Festival.” Before the contest, we talked with Mona, who’d written down the words to three of Ed’s old songs on yellow notebook paper. It was the first time I’d seen any lyrics for “Good Old Country Town Where I Was Born”:

Oh, the days are sad and the nights are long

And the whole wide world is going wrong

And it’s all because I’m far away from home.

When I bow my head and close my eyes

It’s then I stop and realize:

Oh, what a fool I was to ever roam.

There’s a long, long trail a winding

To a land that’s fair and bright.

It’s a trail I’m always finding

When I go to sleep at night.

I dream of climbing up the hills

Where I used to hear those whippoorwills

In the good old country town where I was born.

I tried to figure out just what it’s all about,

Why I ever left home.

I got a notion in my head

The old hometown was most too dead.

I learned a thing or two

As you’re a bound to do

When you’re a roaming around.

I made up my mind right now

I’d soon be homeward bound.

Oh the sun shines brighter every day

And the breezes blow your blues away

In the good old country town I’m longing for.

It’s a place where clothes don’t make the man

And they mean it when they shake your hand

And a stranger won’t be turned from any door.

It’s a land of milk and honey

Where the folks are on the square.

Though they don’t have lots of money

You’re always welcome there.

I know I’m just a small town guy

But I’m going back to live and die

In the good old country town where I was born.

When I get off at the station

And I see those happy smiles,

I can tell the whole creation

I would walk a thousand miles

Just to be back there where the skies are blue

And to know my friends are always true

In that good old country town where I was born.

That afternoon, everyone headed to the contest, which was held in a downtown auditorium. There were a lot of familiar faces. J.P. Fraley and Bobby Taylor were judges. Contest organizers seated the Haley family at the front of the crowd. Mixed among the family were Brandon, Ugee Postalwait, Harold Postalwait, and Jimmy McCoy, a great-grandson of Green McCoy.

Ed Haley plays on WLW (1924)

28 Monday Jul 2014

Posted by in Culture of Honor, Ed Haley, Lincoln County Feud, Music

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About that time, Brandon found this teeth-rattling article while scanning through microfilm of the Lincoln Republican at the public library in Hamlin, West Virginia. It was titled “Ed Haley and Wife Play for the Radio” and dated Thursday, August 28, 1924.

The Crosley Radio Weekly, published at Cincinnati, Ohio, contains a good picture of Ed Haley and wife, the blind musicians so well known in Hamlin, with an interesting story of Mr. Haley, which we reproduce as follows:

The picture above is that of Mr. and Mrs. Ed Haley, of Ashland, Ky., blind fiddlers, who soon will entertain WLW listeners with a most interesting concert. They have the reputation of being the best old-time music makers of the mountains of West Virginia and Kentucky, making a living for themselves and their three children by playing at dances and county fairs. Mr. Haley is shown playing a fiddle connected with which there is a very interesting story of the old mountain feud days. His father was involved in the famous Brumfield-McCoy feud and was captured by the Brumfields. He was told he was to be shot to death in five minutes, during which time he calmly played his fiddle, the same one his son plays for radio listeners and which he was holding when the above picture was taken. The feudist and a friend was shot to death when the five minutes expired and both their bodies were buried in a wooden box. The fiddle, however, was kept by the Brumfields for some years and later returned to the son of the murdered man.

In Search of Ed Haley 344

26 Saturday Jul 2014

Posted by in Ed Haley, John Hartford, Lincoln County Feud, Music

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Around that time, Brandon and I received confirmation from Doug Owsley at the Smithsonian that he was interested in exhuming the Haley-McCoy grave. Doug gave us instructions on what we needed to do before his office could actually become involved — most importantly, to get permission from the state authorities, as well as from Milt’s and Green’s descendants. We felt pretty good about our chances of getting support from the family but weren’t sure what to expect from “officials.” For some guidance in that department, we called Bobby Taylor and Deborah Basham at the Cultural Center in Charleston, who told us all about exhumation law and codes in West Virginia. They felt, considering the interest of the Smithsonian, that we would have no trouble on the bureaucratic end of things.

Meanwhile, Rounder Records was in the final stages of releasing a two-CD set of Ed’s recordings called Forked Deer. The sound quality was incredible on the re-masters although to the uninitiated ear some of the music still sounded like it was coming from behind a waterfall in a cellophane factory. In addition to Forked Deer, Rounder was slated to release two more CDs of Ed’s music under the title of Grey Eagle in the near future.

I was very excited about all of these tunes getting out because I had fantasies of some “young Turk” fiddler getting a hold of them and really doing some damage.

In July, I called Pat Haley to tell her about the CDs, but we ended up talking more about her memories of Ed.

“I know when we lived in 1040 Greenup — when I first came over here — Pop would play very little. Only if he was drinking and maybe Mona would get him to play. I never knew of Pop ever playing sober. I didn’t hear Pop play too much but then his drinking days were just about over. But Mom would play. They had a mandolin and might have been a banjo and Mom would play a little bit. I didn’t know their brother, Ralph. He passed away, I believe, in ’46 or ’47 and I didn’t come into the family until ’48 — when I met Larry — but we married in ’49.”

Pat and I talked more about Ed’s 1951 death.

“Larry and I lived with Mom and Pop on 2144 Greenup Avenue and little Ralph lived with us,” she said. “Clyde had just come home from San Quentin, and a couple of months before Pop died Patsy was due to have Scott and so she moved into the house with us. Her and Jack had the front living room as their bedroom so that Patsy could be close to the hospital. Scott was born January 4th. My Stephen was born January 27th. We were all in the same house when Pop died. But about three days before Pop died, Clyde decided to rob his mother and came in in the middle of the night and stole her sweeper and radio while we were sleeping and he was picked up by the police and he was in jail when his daddy died. He didn’t get to come to his daddy’s funeral. His mother’s either, actually. He was in a Michigan prison when his momma died.”

In Search of Ed Haley 342

24 Thursday Jul 2014

Posted by in Calhoun County, Ed Haley, Music

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Just before Brandon and I left, Ugee told us about the last time she saw Ed. It was the late 1940s and he lived on 45th Street in Ashland. Aunt Rosie Day made the trip with her, but warned her that the chances of hearing any music were slim because Ed and Ella had played little music since Ralph’s death.

“Oh, well,” Ugee told her. “They’ll play for me or I’ll tear his house down.”

She could tell upon arriving at the Haley home, though, that Ed and Ella were “different people.” When she asked to hear some music, Ella said, “We ain’t got nothing to sing about anymore.” Aunt Rosie kinda took the hint, saying to Ugee, “Well, we better go home now.” But Ugee refused, saying, “No, I’m staying all night. The fight’s on.”

Ella tried to appease her by getting out the homemade records (which were already scratched up), but Ugee said, “Ed, you’re talking to the wrong woman. You’re going to play music tonight or we’re gonna break your music box. Now get your fiddle and get your mandolin and let’s hear some music. The fight’s on.”

She said Ed threw his head back and laughed with a “big chaw of tobacco” in his mouth, then said, “I reckon we might as well play for her. She ain’t gonna shut her mouth till we do.”

Ugee admitted that she “was really carrying on awful.” When Ed started playing, “he played some of the saddest things that I ever heard. You know, he was down in the dumps – and Ella, too. It didn’t even sound like them. I let them play three or four and I said, ‘Now I’m tired of that stuff.  I don’t like that stuff.’ That ain’t music at all.’ It didn’t sound like them. I said, ‘Now, I want some music.’”

Ed whispered to Ella, “Watch this,” then went all out for “Calhoun County Blues”. Ugee took off dancing and Ed “got to laughing” and then fiddled up a storm.

“That’s the first time they’s been any laughing and going on in this house since Ralph died,” Ella said.

A little later, “Ed said he was getting sleepy. He was wanting to go to bed, but he didn’t want to go to bed and leave me and Ella setting up in there. He kept saying, ‘Well ain’t you fellers getting tired?’ I said, ‘No we ain’t a bit tired.’ And I’d punch Ella. I said, ‘Not a bit in the world.’ Ed said, ‘Ugee you ain’t got any more sense than you ever had.’ And I said, ‘Well, you don’t act like you know too much, either.’ Well, we got in there and went to bed and we laid there and talked and carried on and laughed. I was sleeping with Ella and he was over in the other bed. He said, ‘Now I’m a going to sleep.’ I said, ‘Well, quit your laughing then.’ He said, ‘I wish you’d shut your mouth.’ Well Mom came down the next day from up in Calhoun County. I didn’t tell them she was a coming. You ought to have heard Ed and them tell how I came down there and picked on them. Mom said, ‘You ought to run her off.’ He said, ‘I tried to but she didn’t have sense enough to leave.’ And then he got to playing some music. And I said, ‘He don’t know how to play. He’s lost all of his touch. And Ella, she can’t play the mandolin,’ and all that kind of stuff with them. And Ella said, ‘You know we haven’t played any since Ralph died.’”

Ugee’s visit apparently cheered Ed and Ella up, because they tried to get her to stay all summer. Ed told her, “That’s what we need down here,” but she teased them about being “dead people” and said she’d never do it.

In Search of Ed Haley 340

21 Monday Jul 2014

Posted by in Calhoun County, Ed Haley, John Hartford, Music

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I asked Ugee if Laury ever listened to the Grand Ole Opry and she said, “Yes. He got to hear it the year before he died. He got a radio. Let’s see, what is his name? George Hayes. We had Hayeses that lived down at Arnoldsburg. And he brought Dad up a little radio when Dad was down sick.”

Now, did Ed Haley ever hear the Grand Ole Opry?

“Oh, yes. He heard it down in Kentucky.”

Did he like it?

“No. He went to Cincinnati one time. They was a gonna make records — him and Ella — but they wanted to pick out the one for him to play. Nobody done him that a way. So he said, ‘I’ll pick my own.’ He went to Nashville once. I don’t know as he went to the Grand Ole Opry but he went to Nashville. Somebody drove him, took him down. But when he found out what they done, he didn’t have no use for that.”

Ugee made it clear that she had missed out on most of Ed’s wild times. She knew nothing about his running around with people like Doc White or chasing women. She did say he was bad about telling “dirty jokes.”

“Many a time he’s told me, ‘All right, Ugee. You better get in the kitchen. I’m gonna tell a dirty joke.’ And he’d tell some kind and you could hear the crowd out there just a dying over it. Ella’d say, ‘Mmm, I’ll go to the kitchen, too.'”

I asked Ugee about Ed’s drinking and she told the story again about her brother Harvey giving him drinks to play “Sweet Florena”. She sang some of it for me:

Oncest I bought your clothes, sweet Florena.

Oncest I bought your clothes, sweet Florene

Oncest I bought your clothes but now I ain’t got no dough

And I have to travel on, sweet Florene.

After finishing that verse, Ugee said, “That’s part of the song. And Ella didn’t like to hear that song. I think it reminded her of some of his old girlfriends or something. And she didn’t like for him to play ‘Buttermilk Mountain’, either. He’d throw back his head and laugh. She’d say, ‘Don’t play that thing. I don’t want to hear that thing.’ But she’d second it. She’d draw her eyes close together.”

Brandon asked Ugee about her aunt Rosie Hicks, who was Laury’s sister and a close friend to the Haley family. She said Aunt Rosie was working in Ed’s home in Catlettsburg when she met Blind Bill Day (her sixth husband) during the early years of the Depression. It was a rocky marriage, according to Rosie’s only child, Nora (Davis) Martin.

“I was gonna tell you about him hitting Aunt Rosie,” Ugee said. “He came through the house and Aunt Rosie was upstairs quilting and all at once — Nora said she was in the kitchen cooking — and she heard the awfulest noise a coming down the stairs and said, ‘Mommy had old Bill Day by the leg and was bringing him bumpety-bump down the stairs, dragging him. Got him in the kitchen. He just walked up and hit her with that left hand right in the mouth. She just jerked his britches off of him and started to sit his bare hind-end on the cook stove — and it red hot.’ And Nora said, ‘Oh, Mommy, don’t do that. You’ll kill him.’ She said, ‘That’s what I’m a trying to do.’ And she grabbed her mother and him both and jerked them away from there.”

Ugee was more complimentary of Day’s colleague, Jean Thomas.

“I’ve got cards from her and letters and pictures,” she said. “I’ve been to her house — stayed all night with her. She was nice. She was too good to Bill Day. She spent money on him and give him the name of Jilson Setters. Sent him to England and he played for the queen over there.”

Brandon wondered if Bill Day was a very good fiddler.

“Well, I’m gonna tell ya, I stayed all night with Aunt Rosie and Bill Day one time,” Ugee said. “They lived on 45th Street in Ashland, Kentucky. My brother took me and my mom down there and he hadn’t seen Aunt Rosie for a long time. She’d married again and she lived down there in Ashland, Kentucky. And we aimed to see Ed and Ella, but they was in Cincinnati playing music. That’s who we went to see. So Harvey, he filled hisself up with beer. That’s the first time I ever seen a quart bottle of beer. Anyway, we went up there to hear Uncle Bill play. Harvey laid down on the bed like he was sick. He wasn’t sick: he wanted me just to listen to that fellow play that fiddle. He knowed I’d get sick of it. And he played that song about the Shanghai rooster. I never got so tired in my life of hearing anything as I did that. He only played three pieces. Harvey laid there, he’d say, ‘Play that again. I love it.’ And I had to sit there and listen to it, ’cause I didn’t want to embarrass him by getting up and walking out. I walked over to Harvey and I said, ‘You’re not sick and you’re not tired, so you get up.’ Said, ‘Ugee, I’ve got an awful headache. I drove all the way down here.’ I said, ‘That bottle that you drank give you the headache, so you get up and you listen to your Uncle Bill.’ He went to the toilet. I said, ‘I’m telling you right now — you’re gonna listen to Uncle Bill if I have to listen to him.’ Harvey said, ‘I’m not listening to him no longer. I’ve heard all I want to hear of Uncle Bill.’ I got Harvey up and then I run and jumped in the bed and I covered my head up with a pillow. But we stayed all night and Aunt Rosie went home with us. She told him she’s a going up to Nora’s, but she went to Calhoun with us in the car, and I reckon while she’s gone old Bill tore up the house. I don’t think they lived together very long after that ’cause it wasn’t very long till she come back home. It was home there at my dad’s.”

Brandon asked if Day ever played with Ed in Calhoun County and Ugee said, “Oh, no. If he had, Dad woulda kicked him out.”

Okay, I thought: so Laury had no tolerance for lesser fiddlers. What about Ed?

“Ed Haley, if somebody was playing a piece of music and they wasn’t hitting it right, he’d stick his hands in his pockets and say, ‘Goddamn, goddamn,'” Ugee said. “Dad’d say, ‘Boy, ain’t he good?’ Ed would cuss a blue streak. Then after the man was gone, whoever it was, Dad and Ed would go to mocking him. Dad and Ed Haley was like brothers. They loved each other. Ella and Mom, too. Jack was the baby the first time I seen Ed after he was married. They was expecting Lawrence, so they named him after my dad. Then when she had Mona, why instead of calling her Minnie, she named her after Mom.”

In Search of Ed Haley 337

17 Thursday Jul 2014

Posted by in Big Harts Creek, Culture of Honor, Ed Haley, Lincoln County Feud

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Brandon and I also called Bob Bryant, a son of the infamous French Bryant, who lived with his son at the mouth of Piney Creek on West Fork. Billy Adkins had encouraged us to call Bob, saying that he would probably tell us what he knew of the Haley-McCoy murders. When we called Bob, his son said we were welcome to talk with his dad, although he warned us that his memory wasn’t very good.

Bob said he was born on Piney in 1911.

When I asked him about French Bryant he said he knew very little about him because his dad “was pretty old” when he was born. He said he did remember his father talking “some” about the Haley-McCoy affair.

“Milt and Green were pretty rough fellers who got in a lot of trouble all the time,” Bob said. “They were bad to drink. Milt Haley and Green McCoy was fiddlers — I think so. Maybe they was. Yeah, I almost know they was. One of them picked the banjo, I believe, but I don’t know for sure.”

Bob said Hugh Dingess, who was “kind of an outlaw,” organized a posse to fetch Milt and Green after they shot Al and Hollena Brumfield. They found them over around Wolf Creek in Martin County, Kentucky.

“Them Dingesses up there killed them,” Bob said. “It didn’t take much to get them to shoot you back then. People’d shoot you just to be a doing something.”

I asked Bob if he ever heard anything about who took part in what he kept calling “the shooting” and he said, “Hugh Dingess and four or five more.”

He paused, then said, “A few of them I wouldn’t want to tell you.”

We were just waiting for him to say his father’s name when he said, “Short Harve Dingess was pretty rough. Seems like he was in that bunch some way.”

Some of the others were: Al Brumfield, Charley Brumfield, Fed Adkins, and Burl Farley.

Bob never identified his father as a member of the mob but mentioned that his father was a friend to the Dingesses on Smokekouse.

He said he remembered seeing Ed play at the schoolhouse above the mouth of Piney when he was nineteen years old.

“He was a real fiddler,” Bob said.

In subsequent weeks, Brandon and I went through most of our information — processing it, sorting it, discussing it. We thought more about the story of Milt causing Ed’s blindness by dipping him in ice water and wondered how anyone would have ever equated those as cause-effect events. I got on the phone with Dr. Tom Holzen, a doctor-friend of mine in Nashville, who said Milt’s dipping of Ed in ice water, while a little crude, was actually the right kind of thing to do in that it would have lowered his fever. Based on that, Milt seems to have been a caring father trying to save Ed’s life or ease his suffering. Was it the act of a desperate man who had already lost other children to disease?