Thursday, June 27, 1946
Last Thursday evening a rain of cloud-burst proportions centered on either side of Beaver Rich Mountain around the heads of Beaver, Douthards and the North Fork of Anthonys Creek. By midnight, Knapps Creek was out of its banks in Marlinton. Considerable damage was done to roads in Watoga State Park. A bridge across Island Lick Run below the Lake, was washed out. On Douthards Creek, the bridge to the big summer camp for boys at Minnehaha Springs was washed out. Many cornfields and meadows and gardens suffered great damage,
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The proverbial June freshet in the Greenbrier River came last week. I have no report from the River Nile in Egypt, but I suppose this historical stream did have its June rise as usual. For the sake of the record, I will again print the threadbare wheeze that the Greenbrier always has its June freshet, even though, in some years, it may be September before it comes.
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Harry Lynn Sheets, late of the Air Corps, and Reid Davis, late of the Infantry, were trout fishing on Red Run of Cranberry the other day. Downstream came a big Canadian barred owl flitting along on silent wings. As the big bird passed, Mr. Sheets flipped his line across him. It looped around a wing, and down into the water it went. Keeping a taunt line on the flopping, struggling bird, Mr. Sheets called to Mr. Davis. Together they caught and dispatched the owl.
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Seems like us sporting people have troubles which never end. This time it is the beaver on the Williams and other trout streams. A dozen years or so ago, we were all advocating the planting of beaver in the Endless Mountains to bring back the trout fishing, among other things, to make us happy again. Now, we have the beaver in wholesale numbers, and the interesting little cusses are not an unmixed blessing by any manner of means.
Harry Junior Widney and Dallas March Hiner were married at Winchester, Virginia, on June 8, 1946, by Rev. Ronald S. Wilson of the Presbyterian Church.
The bride is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J. R. Propst, of Frank, and the groom is the son of Mr. and Mrs. H. M. Widney, also of Frank.
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C. C. Kelley and Mrs. Edna May Sharp Cochran were married Monday night, June 24, 1946, at the Toll House Restaurant. Rev. J. W. Holliday was the officiating minister.
The bride is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Milburn Sharp. The groom is proprietor of the Toll House Restaurant. He is a veteran of the late war, with three years’ service to his credit…
Mrs. Lydia Jane McComb, daughter of John and Jane McClure, and wife of Mr. George McComb, of Watoga, passed away at the home of her daughter, Mrs. Lanty Hefner, of Millpoint, Monday night, June 17, 1946, at the age of 83 years. Mrs. McComb had been in failing health the past year, but her death came as a shock to her relatives and friends.
Mrs. McComb was a native of Pocahontas county; she was married to George McComb, December 28, 1880. To their union were born 12 children, three are dead, nine survive: Burton, of Seattle, Washington; Brown, of Marlinton; Guy, of Danese; Locke, of Hot Springs, Virginia; Glen, of Watoga; Mrs. A. C. Neville, of White Sulphur Springs; Mrs. H. W. Witt, New Haven, Indiana; Mrs. Cleve Noonan, Cloverlick; Mrs. Lanty Hefner, of Millpoint. She is also survived by 29 grandchildren and 28 great-grandchildren.
The funeral was held at Marvin Chapel church Wednesday afternoon, June 19, at 2:30, and interment was in the Ruckman cemetery…
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In the death of Mrs. Flora Nottingham, wife of Bland Nottingham, on Sunday, May 26, 1946, the W. S. C. S. has lost a charter and life member. In her death, there is lost to us one whose memory will be revered for loyalty to the Society as long as her health would permit.
Her happy disposition was an inspiration to all who knew her, scattering sunshine in gloom. Her home life was marked by courtesy and kindness and a deep concern for the welfare of her husband.
Interment was in the Dunmore cemetery beside the grave of an infant son. Mrs. Nottingham was a daughter of the late Adam Nottingham, the youngest of a family of eight children, of whom one sister and three brothers survive.
“She is just away”
A thin little breeze runs whispering
Across the porch each day.
Could it be her footsteps?
She is not far away.
When the silver curtain of twilight falls,
And the whippoorwills are heard,
You will hear her voice, I am almost sure,
Like the night call of a bird.
Her fingers will tenderly touch your face,
Or playfully ruffle your hair,
And before she leaves, she will quickly fluff
The cushion on your chair.
Arta Nottingham Chappius