The Rowan Museum in Salisbury, N.C.

Sue is a wizard at finding places to go which are still close enough for me to visit comfortably. She often “discovers” places which I have passed without notice several times; such as this little museum in Salisbury, the seat of Rowan County. 

It’s located right next door to the Rowan County Court House and Police Station; two  places with which I am familiar. I’ve filed many documents in the one; and pled to a few citations in the other. But I never noticed the small Greek revival building next door on Main Street.

But Sue did. Actually she read about it in one of those little papers which most men don’t ever look at. You know; the local ones with coupons and gardening stuff. Also; apparently; articles about local historical sites in the area. That’s where she ran across this one.

Located on Main Street, next door; as I’ve said; to the Courthouse, is a small Greek revival building which looks as Southern as it can. It was built in 1855 and was home to the original County Courthouse until 1914, when the building next door opened. It is now home to the Rowan Museum and is open Monday through Saturdays from 10 AM to 6 PM and is free of charge; though donations are encouraged.

When you walk through the doors your senses are assaulted with color from all of the objects displayed in cases which line the walls of the main hallway. Off of this hallway; to either side; are rooms which are devoted to different aspects of the history of Rowan County. These rooms range from the early settlers; this was once the Western frontier, long before the Wild West of Hollywood fame; to the more modern ones about the mill towns and textile industry; which was once such a predominant part of the economy here.

The room dealing with the impact of the First World War locally was of special interest to me as my grandfather trained in nearby Spartanburg, S.C., right before shipping off to France in the summer of 1918, just in time for the final offensive drive to Berlin. All in all, this was a delightful meander back through the county’s attic; so to speak; not unlike the Smithsonian in its own unique way.

I know that Sue was especially delighted to see this room; which serves as the meeting room for the local DAR chapter, as she is a member in the Mooresville one. Her great, great, Grandfather Henry Pensinger fought in the Revolution; losing a leg at the Battle of Ticonderoga humping cannon over snowy mountains for the surprise raid on the British. Then they humped the cannon back over the same mountains on the way home.  There is also the actual old courthouse; which is located upstairs and I did not see. Sue did, and she can finish telling you about that as well as more about the local DAR chapter. Take it away, Sue....

   

The Elizabeth Maxwell Steele Chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution was chartered in 1898. It is named for Elizabeth Steele as she was a “Salisbury Patriot”, who operated a Tavern just up the street from this corner during the American Revolution. The story is that General Nathanial Greene stopped overnight at the Tavern. When Mrs. Steele realized he needed funds for his Troops, she gave him her life savings. (Note the money bag on her portrait on the wall.)

The second floor is the actual old courtroom with a wrap- around interior balcony.  You can stand in the balcony and imagine the old courtroom scenes below. It has been refurbished and is available for event rentals. To the side of the courtroom, are doors that lead you out to the exterior balcony that overlooks the historic downtown.

Shotgun Shacks - Relics of a Bygone Era

Driving home from Lincolnton one day I passed a group of shacks along the side of the road. They are at the intersection of  Routes 150/27 on the north side of the road. Intrigued, I turned around and headed back to take some pictures and a closer look. I got so much more for my trouble, it was worth the time.

The shacks date back to the earlier part of the 20th century, probably about 1920 or so. They were rented by the day, night or hour to people passing through. That was the story I got from the bank that sits adjacent to the shacks.

I was directed to the owner, who lives across the road on 150. She is an elderly woman and I really didn't want to bother her, valuing my own privacy as I do. So I asked two guys standing outside the Realtor Office, which is next door, about the shacks. They directed me to the Lincolnton Historical Society and gave me a contact there along with a number to call. And I just may do that. But the story they told was so good, I'm afraid that the truth might spoil it for me.

The area was known as Goodyville back then. It sits next to the town of Boger and has been swallowed up by Lincolnton over the years. It was commonly knowledge that these shacks were mainly used for drinking "white" liquor and also prostitution during the years of Prohibition.

That was all I needed to hear. My mind raced with sepia toned images of hot, sultry summer nights and ladies dressed in flapper type outfits with rolled stockings, drinking white liquor from glass jars. Maybe there was music -a radio, or perhaps a piano...

The mind is the most fertile of places. Images come and go as you drive by and stories plant themselves in your head. They take on a life of their own that nothing, not even the true story, can change.

I'll probably make that call to the Historical Society, but I'll always hold onto this little slice of life that I got driving down the road. Sometimes the truth just don't cut it.

"Tales from Old Iredell County" by O.C. Stonestreet (2012)

Thanks to author O.C. Stonestreet I will never look at the local roads, such as route 115, 21 and 150, in the same light again. They say that the only thing new is the history you don’t know, and Mr. Stonestreet has managed to gather all of the local folklore into this delightfully entertaining, quickly read, 200 page book.

Mr. Stonestreet was speaking at the DAR meeting last Saturday in Mooresville, and Sue; who is a member; bought a copy of this book which details all of the local legends in the county. Some are suspect, but others ring very true, even explaining some of the things I see; or wonder about; as I travel the local roads each day.

Among the stories related here, which vary from Tom Dooley’s hanging, which made a great folk song; to some more important; although not fully proven tales. We also can boast that Iredell County was the birthplace of Kit Carson, the legendary pioneer, and North Carolina’s version of Daniel Boone. Remember, these events took place when North Carolina was the western frontier of our nation.

I especially liked the story about Abraham Lincoln, whom I have written of several times here and is one of my favorite Presidents. It seems that Abraham Lincoln may have been fathered by a man named Abraham Enloe in Rutherford County; about 60 miles from here; who had a maid named Nancy Hanks. She became pregnant by her employer; and although he was already married with kids; he did the honorable thing by paying Tom Lincoln $500 and a wagon; with a team of oxen; to claim the child was his. Tom Lincoln was on his way to Illinois and just passing through, so he readily agreed to the arrangement. Moreover, Tom Lincoln; who was never overly fond of his son; was short and stocky; while Mr. Enloe was tall and lean, just as Abraham Lincoln was. Even pictures of Mr. Enloe’s son bear a striking likeness to the President. This story has never been definitively disproven, with even some of Lincoln’s own words alluding to the uncertainty of his parentage.

From crimes and punishments, lynching’s and murders; with a bit of mayhem thrown in; there are some truly colorful stories in this book. Along with some stories concerning gravestones; the book is a wonderful thing to have in the car as you go about your daily business. It will enable the reader to expand upon the little tidbits of tales which he may have heard about, but thus far been unable to verify. So much of local history has been lost to the ages, and Mr. Stonestreet’s little book may go a long way in stopping some of that loss.