The Pocahontas Times
January 27, 1927
A mountaineer is an inhabitant of a mountain region as opposed to lowlander who lives on the levels or low lying lands. The mountaineer is the wilder of the two. He is more active, more virile and wilder. He grows strong with the struggle to maintain life. As compared to him, the lowlander is as one who is down and therefore fears no fall. He is very sedate, he is good to his mate, and fond of amusement, too; he lives in a flat and is apt to grow fat, of a breed that runs even and true. But the mountaineer is bold, is a hard man to hold, he has hair on the back of his hands, he leads in the ruction of war and destruction, and is ready to meet all demands.
It is a study to see the lowlander trying to be familiar with the mountains. He is like a fish out of water. They overawe him and he steps high and softly when he is among them and leaves them at the first decent opportunity. There is no question but that the mountains get his goat.
For many years, the first map makers of the colonies would lay down the Appalachian range and mark the maps, impassable mountains. It was accepted as fact that the snow never melted on them in the summer time, and that no matter how far an explorer succeeded in clambering over them, that still higher mountains presented themselves as barriers to his progress. And they insisted that the country was so broken and uneven that it could never be good for anything.
The lowlander, today, when he comes to the mountains for the first time suffers from a hypersensitive condition and is afflicted with a mild attack of mountain sickness caused by a rarer air than he has been accustomed. This is not pronounced enough to endanger his health, but it does cause a feeling of discomfort and he is inclined to be critical of what he sees. It is the provincialism and the malaria working out, aggravated by the jumbled masses that tower over him. He never realizes that the mountaineers actually prize their mountains and that they despise the dead level of the plains. The mountaineer especially cherishes a noisy stream. He does not like the still waters so highly spoken of in the twenty-third psalm…
Charles Kingsley said: “My first feeling on entering the high woods was helplessness, confusion, awe, all but terror.”
Percy Blysshe Shelley said: “I never knew – I never imagined what mountains were before. The immensity of these auriel summits excited, when they suddenly burst upon the sight, a sentiment of extatic [sp] wonder, not unallied to madness.”
And the gentleman from Chicago in the mountains disapproved of the scenery as “ungodly.” And the experience of his traveling companion whose stomach departed from him.
To be continued…
Historical Sketches of Pocahontas County ~ 1901
Robert Moore was a son of Moses Moore, the distinguished pioneer. He was born May 27, 1772, and was reared on Knapps Creek. His wife was Rebecca McCollam, of Brown’s Mountain near Driscol. After living a number of years on the Greenbrier at the Bridger place, he moved to Edray on the Drinnon opening. They were the parents of five sons, Isaac, Robert, Andrew, James, and William, and one daughter, Jane, who became Mrs. Andrew Duffield and lived at the head of Stony Creek, now owned by the Delaney family who recently moved into our county.
Isaac Moore married Catherine Gillilan and settled at Edray where S. B. Moore lives. In their family were three sons and five daughters. Mary Ann became Mrs. Amos Barlow, first wife; Rebecca became Mrs. David Hannah; Elizabeth is Mrs. Bryson Hannah, near Frost; Eveline became Mrs. Paul Sharp; Julia is now Mrs. William Sharp.
The property owned by Robert Moore was first opened by Thomas Drinnon, and is one of the earliest settlements in this region. The Drinnon tract must have included thousands of acres. The quality of the land is of the best, much of it spontaneously sodding in bluegrass when timber is belted…
When Robert Moore took possession, but a few acres were cleared. He and his sons made extensive improvements of a very substantial character. He erected a commodious two story brick building, the first and only building of its kind in the vicinity…
Robert Moore was the worthy son of a worthy father. Everybody had confidence in “Uncle Bobby,” and when he went hence to be no more, genuine tears embalmed the memory of the kind, honest, and brave old settler.