Cold Weather and the Woolly Worm (Festival)

Cold, snow-covered Greenup County, Kentucky (Photo: the Author)

Heavier coats are coming out as temperatures drop. The annual rite of passage is upon us as the only thing falling faster than the leaves is the mercury on the thermometer.

I wasn’t particularly pleased when I saw the forecast for the week when I looked on Sunday.

Thirty degrees?

But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised. Should I? I’ve witnessed the warning signs. Falling leaves. Yellow school buses. Football games and basketball practices.

I should have seen it coming, yet every year I am caught off guard by the onset of winter. I’m guessing I’m not the only one?

So what kind of winter is in store for us?

My father, a native of western Ohio, swears by the venerable Farmer’s Almanac which is a fairly decent indicator for long-range forecasting. On the map published in the Old Farmer’s Almanac, Kentucky is treated as the southernmost midwestern state where the forecast is “biting cold & snowy.” Of course, the Rocky Top of Tennessee and the majority of the southeast is simply “chilly & wet.”

Kentucky has been described both as midwestern and as southern, making finding our commonwealth on a map of U.S. regions challenging. And while the cartographer may struggle, it is equally troublesome to reconcile Kentucky’s status as a midwestern state such as Wisconsin and Michigan as it is to find sufficient similarity with Florida.

For generations, Kentucky has been a border state in every sense of the word. During the Civil War, she was represented by a star on the banners of both the Union and the Confederate States. And it remains difficult to categorize her today.

Like so many in Appalachia, we’ve developed our own methods. In communities along the mountain chain, including a significant number in Kentucky, people have looked to something more native in determining the forecast for the upcoming season — the woolly worm.

At about two inches in length, the woolly worm is easily recognizable by the soft black and cinnamon bristles covering its body. The body is divided into 13 segments with each thought to represent a week of winter; each brown segment is thought to reveal a mild week of winter while black segments are indicative of harsher weather.
So what does the woolly worm say is in store? Well, we’ll just have to wait to find out.

That’s because Kentucky’s woolly worms won’t issue their forecast until the 26th Annual Woolly Worm Festival which will be this weekend in Beattyville.

Beattyville is the seat of Lee County and is nestled between the North Fork and South Fork rivers. This confluence creates the headwaters of the Kentucky River.

The small town counts fewer than 2,000 residents, yet its ranks swell each autumn when the woolly worms race, the parade is held, and live entertainment fills the air.

The woolly worm festival in Beattyville is a lot of fun and, if you haven’t been before, it is worth going. Plus, there’s the added benefit of knowing the forecast for the next 13 weeks.

This column originally appeared in the Jessamine Journal. 
It should not be republished without permission.


With permission of The Jessamine Journal, this post also appeared on The Revivalist.

Murder and Intrigue at Lexington’s old Yocum Motor Lodge

Yocum Lodge, 1229 S. Limestone – Lexington, Ky.
Photo: Lafayette Studios / U. of Kentucky (KDL)

When I stumbled upon the image of the Yocum Lodge, I must admit that I had no recollection of the building which was demolished in June of 1988 (two years before I moved to Kentucky).

All guesses to last week’s #ThrowbackThursday were accurate, with the winner being The Streetsweeper. As always, the ‘Sweeper provided a bit more insight:

A house of ill repute, eh?

Apparently, the sad tales of the old Yocum Lodge don’t end there. On Mother’s Day in 1984, a woman visiting her boyfriend who had a room at the old lodge was gunned down by a trio of criminals who were quickly caught on flight in Connecticut thanks to an FBI advisory. The details are contained in news accounts and I won’t recreate them here, but the tragedy was made more profound simply by the presence of the victim’s one-year old son.

University Inn – Lexington, Ky.
Photo: Fayette PVA

Seem’s very Dexteresque.

This tragic site was dozed over about four years later and is now occupied by the University Inn hotel which was constructed in 1997. The location is across South Limestone from the University of Kentucky at Waller Avenue.

A proposed apartment complex had been proposed for the site a few years before, but community efforts and city planners derailed the proposal.

Stay tuned for another #TBT tomorrow.

Book Review: Crawfish Bottom

Here, brothels were commonplace for generations. Here, alcohol flowed freely before, after and during prohibition. Here, crime was inherent and living conditions deplorable.

And it was all in the shadow of the old state Capitol.

Douglas Boyd explored the lost community of Crawfish Bottom in his book, Crawfish Bottom: Recovering a Lost Kentucky Community. It is now available in paperback from the University Press of Kentucky.

Since the Commonwealth’s earliest days, Frankfort has been our capital. Seated on the Kentucky River, the community had a history interwoven with the river. Lumber would be transported by water with the mountaineers accompanying it. Receiving their pay in Frankfort, these men might be interested in partaking of the local flavor.

And as the state capital was home to the state penitentiary, felons upon release might seek the pleasures they were unable to access from the cell block.

It was entirely natural, then, that a seedy area would develop in Frankfort. Its proximity to the river (adjacent to and partially in a flood plain, as evidenced by the regular flooding) created a natural fit for the area which was generally viewed as being to the west and north of the old state Capitol.

Professor Boyd examined this swampy land through the eyes and voice of her people utilizing and relying to a great degree on oral histories prepared in 1991 by a University of Kentucky master’s degree candidate. Through Boyd’s expert pen and insight, a history of the people who lived in the Craw is told.

For those who lived in this area, it represented a great deal more than the prostitution and crime that occurred here. It was a community with churches and schools and stores and commerce. Race was less divisive than elsewhere in the capital city as residents were “more unified … by their socioeconomic condition … than they were divided by their race. Blacks and whites lived together [and] everybody looked out after each other.”

And so “for the overwhelming majority of residents interviewed, … the Bottom was a safe place for them and their families to live.”

Boyd drew on the memory and nostalgia of displaced residents to approach the concept of urban renewal from their perspective. Nostalgia “is a feeling or expression of longing, in the present, for a more positively associated place or time imagined in the past, a phenomenon that introduces” outside distortion, yet is now accepted as being “critical to understanding embedded meaning in historical interpretation.”

Whether or not the methodology historical recordation is deemed appropriate, Boyd’s use of nostalgia draws readers to a deeper understanding of the daily lives of this locality.

And after all, as Charles Joyner wrote, “all history is local history somewhere … still, no history, properly understood, is of merely local significance.” Yes, the reach of the Craw extended beyond its mere fifty acres.

Long were attempts to rid Frankfort of Crawfish Bottom and the urban renewal effort finally struck a final blow to the entire neighborhood in the 1960s when space was made for the new state office tower and plaza. Ridding Frankfort of its “slums” was deemed a positive, despite whatever sense of community was lost.

The area is a microcosm for the efforts to alter the nation’s urban cores — efforts which began in earnest during the middle portion of the last century and continue today.

Boyd’s book received great accolades in hardcover and readership should increase now that it is accessible in paperback among those interested in virtually any of the social sciences.


Disclaimer: The University Press of Kentucky provided the author with a courtesy review copy of the book here reviewed. The amazon.com link to the reviewed book is part of an affiliate agreement between the author and amazon.com.

Beautiful Architecture and Rich History of Transylvania Revealed from Simple Marker

Marker affixed to a Stone at Gratz Park – Lexington, Ky.

In the lawn of Gratz Park, the children of James Lane Allen play while nearby a memorial plaque honors:

Transylvania
Pioneer College of the West
Founded by Legislature of Virginia – 1780
Moved to this Site – 1793
Erected by Bryan Station Chapter N.S.D.A.R. – 1931
To the uninitiated, the marker may seem out of place surrounded by the historic homes of Gratz Park while the stately Morrison Hall of Transylvania serves as the icon of the school that spreads north from Third Street. But it is here in Gratz Park that Transylvania flourished and with it the seat of knowledge that made Lexington the Athens of the West. 
The Main Building of Transylvania was “the crowning architectural jewel of this square.” It was designed by architect Matthew Kennedy and evidence of its style appears on an “elevation and first-floor plan rendering for the project, signed and dated ’18th April 1816′.”
Of the Main Building, Clay Lancaster wrote in in his Vestiges of the Venerable City,

a building with a wide pedimented central motif, with the first story given a basement treatment and te second and third stories laced by four engaged columns and two pilasters. Lower openings are arched, and a host of chimneys rises from the long, plain roof with end gable. … Its center pavilion was pedimented, it contained a fan window in the tympanum, a balustrade surmounted the cornice to the hipped roof elsewhere, and an elaborate cupola climaxed the composition. The topmost elements – the lantern with its colonnettes, finial urns, and bulbous roof and vane, and the balustrade – were Georgian Baroque in the manner of Sir Christopher Wren and considerably more old-fashioned than the Classic deliniation would have been; but together they comprised a more pleading form.

Restoration sketch of Gratz Park by Clay Lancaster, Vestiges of the Venerable City.

A fire in May of 1829 marked the end of the Main Building and only its east dependency (a supporting structure) remains today as it serves as the home of the Blue Grass Trust. When Transylvania was reconstituted and the work of the school continued, it did so on the north side of Third Street with construction of Old Morrison beginning in 1831.

Our marker also suggests and earlier home for Transylvania with it having been formed in 1780 by the Virginia Legislature and moving to the site thirteen years later. As has been noted here before, the Transylvania Academy was first established in Danville. One of its first Transy trustees was Willis Green, whose Danville home is a historic gem currently for sale by a consortium of preservation-minded organizations.

A lot of history hidden on that little marker affixed to a stone in Gratz Park…

This Just Happened, a weekly roundup

From the Kaintuckeean:

And from elsewhere around the Commonwealth:


New bike lanes on Lexington’s Red Mile Road [UK Presser]

Tour Bourbon County’s Airy Castle Today [WTVQ]

Photos from unveiling of ‘Cherokees in Kentucky’ historic marker in Lincoln County [Herald-Leader]

Historic Jessamine Co. Courthouse receives Energy Star certification [Jessamine Journal]

Keene Springs Inn enjoys rich history

Keene Springs Inn – Keene, Ky.

The restaurant operated by Debbie Wheeler in the old Keene Springs Inn was recently profiled in the Jessamine Journal. And while my mouth watered for some of Wheeler’s fried chicken and green beans, I thought more of the history behind this grand locale.

By 1794, Manoah Singleton had established a grist mill near the crossing of a buffalo trace known as Shawnee Run Road and the Cave Spring Fork of Clear Creek.

At that time, Shawnee Run Road was considered the most direct route between Lexington and Harrodsburg; it is now known in the county as Keene-Troy Pike.

The community of Keene was laid out in 1813, though it was known first as Liberty. Patriotic fervor in the first decades of the 19th century created a laundry list of communities bearing that name. The result was confusion.

The original and extant Liberty, Ky., is the seat of Casey County. It was founded in 1806.

When Jessamine County laid out its Liberty, it must have soon become apparent that Casey County already had a town bearing the name so the people here renamed their community North Liberty.

Quite appropriate given the geographic bearings of Jessamine and Casey counties.

But along came those in Pike County who in 1822 debated whether their seat should be Piketon, now known as Pikeville, or Liberty.

As the debate raged in Pike County, those in Morgan County thought ‘Liberty’ would be a fitting name for a city.

Those in Morgan County believed Pike Countians would use Liberty, so they established West Liberty which remains the county seat. Pike County opted for Piketon and the end result was a geographic conundrum.

The town of West Liberty (located in Morgan County) lies approximately 100 miles east of Liberty (located in Casey County).

Fortunately, Jessamine County stayed out of the fray. So much so that when a post office was to be established in North Liberty in 1830, we got out of the ‘Liberty’ business altogether. Postmaster Ephraim Carter named his new post office after his hometown of Keene, N.H.

The state legislature authorized Keene’s incorporation in 1844. Four years later, white sulphur water was discovered in the nearby springs.

Of the water, the dean of Transylvania Medical College, Dr. Robert Peter, said it was “incomparably the best medical water on this continent … eminently adapted to the cure of every species of Indigestion, Liver Complaint, Scrofula, Cutaneous Affections, Mercurial Disease, a variety of nervous diseases and nearly all diseases that are usually denominated chronic.”

It is no wonder, then, that when the cholera epidemic hit Lexington in 1849 that those able to flee the city did so. And they came to and stayed at the Keene Springs Hotel.

Wrote Bennett H. Young in his 1898 History of Jessamine County, Kentucky, “during the prevalence of cholera, in Lexington, about this time, a large number of people came to Keene and lived during the panic, occasioned by this disease in Lexington and surrounding towns” staying in “a very nice hotel.”

A very nice hotel indeed. In fact, it was owned by Mason Singleton who was the grandson of the pioneer who first settled the community.

Popularity for the hotel, however, declined and Singleton was forced to sell by 1857. It was purchased by Alfred McTyre who operated the facility for a decade before selling it to Fielding S. Wilson in 1868.

And for 145 years, the historic property has remained in the hands of the Wilson family.

This column originally appeared in the Jessamine Journal. 
It should not be republished without permission.

A Motor Lodge in Lexington #TBT

The “Motor Lodge” or “Motor Court” was a common site on America’s highways and byways decades ago as small numbers of lodgers would find comfort for the night.

In fact, Col. Sanders operated such a site in Corbin. The fried chicken served in the cafe at his motor court became the basis, of course, Kentucky Fried Chicken.

A number of such lodges or courts were in Lexington, including the one above. Though the building was torn down in favor or a larger sense of lodging, you may recognize its location?

Share your thoughts in the comments!

Livingston is a Trail Town … and it Can’t Hide the Pride

Marker at the old Livingston School which is being converted into a Visitor’s Center
after being closed nearly twenty years.

On one of my first jaunts, I visited the small Rockcastle County community of Livingston. Soon after, I found an article that validated my findings of Livingston as a once-vibrant, but long forgotten community. 

But Livingston has no hotel, no drug store or bank or any of these sundry establishments. There was a time when all these and more were present. Not one, but four hotels and numerous boarding houses catered to temporary residents. Not one, but two doctors tended human frailty. All that remain now are ghosts, faint echoes of a once-prosperous past when Livingston was a busy and exciting place to live. Livingston’s Main Street, at the heart of the town, is a place of padlocked doors and boarded windows, of burned and sagging buildings, of broken glass and rotting timbers and unswept dust. (Focus, Winter 1999)

It was a sad indictment, yet even then there remained both a marker and a sense that Livingston “Can’t Hide the Pride.” So I returned last month to find a completely different place, except one thing had not changed at all. The Pride. It is almost as if the people of Livingston sought to fulfill my hope from September 2009, that “this community will again one day have a source of pride.”

As it turns out, Livingston has become its own Phoenix. On June 25 of this year, Livingston was designated the second Trail Town in Kentucky. This designation marks a major milestone for any small community.

The Livingston School (top) is being converted into a Visitor’s Center (middle),
while new opportunities are opening up throughout town (bottom).

Earlier in the year, my brother and I traveled by bicycle along a portion of the Great Allegheny Passage in southwestern Pennsylvania. There, strong industry used to keep employment high. But that industry vanished famished long ago. Yet through a committed citizenry and a group of elected officials with a forward looking vision, small communities have been reborn through increases in adventure tourism. Cyclists, mountain bikers, rafters, tubers, and kayakers all abound. These tourists also stay in locally-owned bed and breakfasts and hotels and eat at locally-owned diners and restaurants. It brings vitality and outside dollars into a small town, rather than seeing money only as an export.

And now, Livingston can share in this success. The old Graded School is being or has been converted into the new permanent trailhead. Along the S. Wilderness Rd. one can find directions to a canoe launch, the Wilderness Road Trail, and the Sheltowee Trace Trail. I could not be happier for Livingston.

The trailhead at Livingston

I pray that Livingston thrives on its new designation; if you haven’t been, go!

And the story of Livingston is a story that can be and should be told over and over again throughout Kentucky. The tourism dollars that flow into Kentucky represent a new form of industry that Kentucky has long allowed to go elsewhere.

The beauty of Eastern Kentucky could easily be a tourist’s paradise rather than the victim of mountaintop removal. Communities along the old Big Sandy Railroad – Winchester, Mount Sterling, Olympia, Morehead, Olive Hill, and Grayson – each stand to gain so much if the proposed rail to trail along that old railroad line between Lexington and Ashland were completed. It is this kind of new economy which encourages locally owned business, historic preservation, and landscape preservation.

The costs are relatively low, but it takes a vision. And it takes leadership.

A Plain Marker Alludes to Rich History for Duncan Tavern in Paris

Historic Marker for Duncan Tavern  – Paris, Ky.

I’m amazed at how much information we now fit into the roadside markers with great care being taken to sentence syntax, etc. In its early days, however, the program might simply list a few notable facts about a person or place being memorialized. This was the case with Duncan Tavern in Paris, Ky. Reads Marker #93:

Duncan Tavern
Built 1788
Gathering Place of Pioneers
Shrine, Museum, Library.
Restored by
Kentucky Daughters of the
American Revolution.
That’s all folks!

But if you simply bear it and must know more, (and you should, because Duncan Tavern – formerly the Goddess of Liberty – was a hotbed of political activity in Kentucky’s early days) read on!

If you have been to historic Williamsburg, Va., you know the import of the local tavern in colonial America. I think of all the taverns near Virginia’s colonial government seat, where our nation’s founders would gather to discuss the issues of the day.

When Kentucky was divided by Virginia from its original three counties, one of the earliest new counties was Bourbon County. Its seat has always been Paris (originally chartered as Hopewell, Va. [*]). Thirty-three counties have been carved from Bourbon’s original borders. Needless to say, people traveled long distances to visit the county seat of Paris. And these individuals needed a place to stay and to eat.

The Goddess of Liberty, the original name of the Duncan Tavern, was the gathering place for Kentucky’s earliest leaders, including Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton, Peter Houston and Michael Stoner. [*]

The three story tavern was constructed in 1788 by Maj. Joseph Duncan. According to the Kentucky Encyclopedia, the architecture is remarkable given that most structures of the day in Paris were log buildings. According to at least one account, the tavern towered over the 20′ x 30′ log courthouse below. [*]

So while it may have a plain marker, its history is remarkable.