Hunting is the order of the day. That phrase used to be a convention with the staff of Times writers. Forty years ago when we would write a piece for the paper, and there were writers in those days, from the various precincts, it was good for a line. Thus maple sugar making is the order of the day. Harvesting is the order of the day. Butchering is the order of the day.
It means that the usual program of business must be laid aside and that the head of the family must yield to that urge to rise, slay and eat and take his weapons of precision and go to the woods and kill himself a deer. If the good wife points that the path of duty is the way to glory, and that the corn remains unhusked, the nominal head of the house moves the previous question, the order of the day, that the motion to husk corn be not put, and leaves in a hurry.
In this ten days, every old buck deer in the mountain has to look out for his own skin. The game wardens are powerless to protect him, no justice of the peace nor constable stirs abroad, and even the state police are negligible, so hallowed and gracious is the time.
There are some twenty-five hundred rifles in the woods in this county, according to a close calculation made with the stub of a pencil on a bit of wrapping paper, and they will hunt until the clock strikes twelve on the night of November 10th.
Years ago when the ten days deer hunting came in, the woods closed upon a similar army of hunters, and we had cautioned them for weeks about the danger of shooting each other in the forest, but that season ended without a single fatality or wounding. It is not known how many of them suffered from the buck ague, for that is a secret that hunters carry with them to the grave…
– – –
Jailor W. A. Eskridge reports some unusual experiences the past week. First, a prisoner celebrated his 82nd birthday in jail. Then Joseph Hobert Akers and Miss Irene Catherine Echols, of Richmond, were united in marriage by Rev. S. R. Neel. By reason of this lifetime sentence, Akers was released from jail. Third, Henry Varner and Gilbert Dilley, two trusties, were at work cleaning the corridors. A loose window proved too great a temptation, and the prisoners took French leave. Both were being held for the grand jury, charged with stealing automobile tires.
– – –
A truck loaded with dynamite spilled a box on the pavement in making the turn at the post office in Marlinton Monday evening. The box broke open scattering sticks of the explosive all around. Fortunately, the dynamite was frozen and failed to explode, otherwise Main street of Marlinton might have witnessed a most shocking disaster with much loss of life and destruction of property.
Born to Mr. and Mrs. Harry Buzzard, on Browns Mountain, a son.
Born to Mr. and Mrs. T. C. Alderman, on Beaver Creek, a daughter.
Born to Mr. and Mrs. Origin Underwood, on Beaver Creek, a daughter.
WHITE – JUDY
On Saturday, November 12, 1927, Mr. Arndt T. White, son of Mr. and Mrs. H. Lee White, of Minnehaha Springs, and Miss Edna E. Judy, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Kennie H. Judy, of Franklin, were united in marriage at the Lutheran Parsonage, Harrisonburg, Va., by Rev. Charles M. Coffelt. We wish this young couple much happiness in their future life.
On Tuesday, November 1, 1927, Mr. and Mrs. W. A. Wooddell celebrated their Golden Wedding Anniversary at their residence at Cass. Many valuable presents, including gold coin, were received. Those present were served a sumptuous meal, and could not find words to express the pleasure of this meeting.
Mr. and Mrs. Wooddell were married fifty years ago. To this union were born eight children, six of them are living. Mr. Wooddell is well known in this section of West Virginia, having been a farmer and stockman all his life. Mrs. Wooddell, is well known also, because of her loving disposition and motherly hospitality.
There is nothing in the mind of the writer, more beautiful than honorable old age. Nothing more sweet than the companionship of two lives as they travel life’s rugged road, hand in hand for half a century, sharing each other’s burdens together, and when the shades of night fall around them, this venerable couple can close their eyes to a life of married happiness and bliss, and in that far distant clime, dwell in perpetual happiness throughout all eternity. May they live many more happy years is the wish of the writer. ~ A Guest
Winters Jennings Fowler was born May 6, 1879, and died November 3, 1927, aged 48 years, 5 months and 27 days. Mr. Fowler was born and raised in Little Levels of Pocahontas County. His occupation was blacksmith and carpenter.
In 1900, he was united in marriage to Miss Margaret Friel of near Clover Lick and to this union there were born eight children, they are: Mrs. Roy VanReenen of near Edray, Eva, Hazel, Virgie, Harry, Warren and Pat Dale at home…
He was an ever loving and faithful husband and father. Of his acquaintances he was liked and was ready to lend a helping hand.
He made his home at Hillsboro all his life up until the past two years. He moved to Marlinton where he was employed by the State Road.
October 3rd, while preparing to move a gasoline shovel, he was hit by a moving car; knocked down and run over, receiving ugly cuts and bruises on his head and body. He was taken to the Pocahontas Memorial hospital and everything was done to prevent his death. He died November 3rd, only living one month after the accident.
Burial at the Oak Grove cemetery in Hillsboro.
Dear father, we will miss you,
Your voice we loved is still.
A place is vacant in our home
That never can be filled.