Thursday, December 24, 1964
Born to Mr. and Mrs. William Hise, of Cass, a daughter, named Tonita Sue.
Born to Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Hawkins, Jr. of Marlinton, twin daughters.
Born to Mr. and Mrs. Robert Taylor, of Richmond, Virginia, a daughter, named Katheine Elizabeth. DEATHS
Ben Clarence Calhoun, infant son of Vernon and Joan Calhoun; burial in Mountain View Cemetery. Rosie Bell Lane, 62, of Seebert; daughter of Mitchell and Elzine Tharp Blake; burial in Ruckman Cemetery.
George Cameron McLaughlin, 83, of Huntersville. Born at Dunmore July 23, 1881. Burial in Dunmore Cemetery.
Maggie Cain, 60, of Mace; daughter of Mr. and Mrs. William Mace. Burial in the Gibson Cemetery on Elk.
from 1924 continued from last week:
Five years ago Lame Paw stepped into a steel trap and left a toe to show who had been there and the toe was hung up and after that the big track registered the identity of the animal. He had been making his home on Gibson’s Knob. This is not the highest peak in these mountains but it is well in the forty odd hundred feet. In a way it is one of the most spectacular features of the landscape. It has been cleared on the top and forms a long mound covered with blue grass. There is a considerable flat on its top and a few stunted trees show signs of the fierce winds that blow over the exposed surface. There have been well authenticated cases of this height making visitors there so dizzy that they have fallen prone and held to the grass to keep from falling off. The mountain is encircled on every side by fine bluegrass farms and it is the center of one of the richest grazing counties in West Virginia. County roads enclose it. Starting at Edray and following the pike to Linwood, and turning there and traversing the road to Clover Creek and then by Poage’s Lane and Warwick and back to Edray, a circle of thirty three miles. That day’s journey will show a traveler the greenest, grassiest place in the Virginias. When I was in the postal service, it was the constant aim to make that circle round Gibson’s Knob a daily rural route and time and again the department agreed to establish such a route but there was always some local objection as to the way it affected individuals that kept if from being done. That pivoting on Gibson’s Knob through that rich country always appealed very strongly to me. I have tried to get a list of men who made up the hunt for Lame Paw the other day, and I talked to some that were in it, and I was told of twelve men and twelve hounds that made up the hunt, but I have a feeling that some were left out of the list. And in addition to that, every man on every side of Gibson’s Knob had a bear load in his gun and was ready to fire. The twelve I listed were: Charles Sheets, James Gibson, Robert Gibson, Willie Gibson, Dallas Tacy, Charles Tacy, another Tacy, Doc Gibson, W. E. Poage, Ross Hamrick, Carl Gibson, French Hoover. Added later: Henry Simmons, Amos Wooddell, Elmer Hannah, Roscoe Bennett, sixteen in all. Of the 12 hounds, two were heroes, Roamy, belonging to James Gibson, and Liner, belonging to Dallas Tacy. The standers were placed and the hounds taken to the top of Gibson’s Knob, and there in the bear wallow was fresh sign of the bear. The hounds were loosed and within a hundred and fifty yards they jumped the big bear and another from their beds in a wind Shake Fall near a laurel patch. Lame paw’s companion in crime lit out from there as fast as he could lay foot to the ground and took with hm ten hounds and as far as is known is going yet. It was part of the cunning of the ancient bear, no doubt, to have a young racing bear handy to draw off such dangers as this. But Roamy and Liner had been conferring over the matter and they know very well that the small bear was not the main object of the hunt. If it had not been for these wise dogs the whole pack would have been drawn away after the subservient bear that Lame Paw kept for the purpose and Lame Paw would have been left with his head on his paws brooding over the endless expanse that surrounds this high lookout. But Roamy and Liner produced him out. Lame Paw was too old and fat to enjoy running but he decided that he would have to waddle his finest if he got to Gauley Mountain and away from the dogs, men and guns. He could not do anything with the hounds. One good swipe of his paw would crush a hound, but the hounds side-stepped and kept out of the way. They also kept him from fleeing rapidly. One hung on one flank of the big bear and one on the other. Each dog picked the hind leg that he was to chew and paid attention to it.When Roamy bit the leg assigned to him, the bear would stop to cuff him off, and Liner would then fasten on the leg left exposed and the big brute was much harried and distressed. The hounds in the meantime were giving tongue and letting the hunters know the way the game was taking. The bear circled and ran about two miles until he made his last stand in the rough ground on the south side of Russell Hannah’s farm near the pass way toward Slaty Fork. To be continued….