The Tar Heel Thursday, July 6, 1978 13
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The recently restored West Point
Mill on the Eno River was built in 1778
and served as an important focal point
for the Durham area during its 164
years of operation. Originally
constructed as a grain mill, the water
power was later adapted to drive a saw
mill.
As the mill grew its spacious
building housed an increasing variety
of activities. A country store in one
corner that first sold the mill's
cornmeal and grits gradually brought
in more foodstuffs, household
necessities and even coffins and other
furniture.
The mill's importance as a power
and economic center facilitated its
development as a social, recreational,
political and geographical focus. It
was a natural gathering spot for local
folks and the presence of the mill
influenced the location of roads in the
area. Roxboro, Coal Mill and Guess
Roads are all known as old mill roads.
The mill went out of business in
1942. Left to the elements, the
structure collapsed in 1970.
Spearheaded by the Eno River
Association and the Friends of West
Point, a concerted effort was mounted
to rebuild the mill. Using old pictures
n-going tradition
i of Danish folk
phasize individual
y trained artisans
ctors come from as
irmont and Indiana,
se to home as
m mountain
crafts are taught as
cticed traditionally,
ining course, for
udents learn the
cess of producing
rom carding and
;obring with dyes
natural materials
y the students
ikewise, students of
n to make the oak
t are used in
g-
sol also offers
l folk music and
i Dance Weekends
ind fall.
r colleges, the Folk
:ourages family
conducting a two
Folk School each
milies with children
The success of the Folk School
is due in part to its unique sense of
community involvement. The
residents of Brasstown donated
land, manpower and money to
build "a school that would not just
make teachers and preachers,"
and the school has responded by
providing educational and social
outlets for the community.
Through the efforts and
encouragement of Mrs.
Campbell, local craftsmen
formed the Brasstown Carvers,
whose wooden figures are now
.sold, along with other local
products, in the school's Craft
Shop, providing additional
income for the community.
The day of the cottage industry
is gone; twentieth century life
demands a more efficient form of
production. But the tenacious
pride in individual craftsmanship
survives, not as an outworn relic,
but as a living heritage in
Brasstown.
Marcia Decker
Staff photo by Allen Jemigan
of the original structure to keep it
realistic and, aided by funding and
labor from the state and the city of
Durham, the new structure was
completed this year. On Sunday, the
wooden and iron gears were,
engaged, the flood gates were opened,
the water wheel began to turn and the
West Point Mill was again in
operation.
John Hoke
John and Hattie Lee of Chatham
County have remedies "for
whatever's ailin' ya" that do not
come pre-packaged and "new,
improved."
In fact, John and Hattie think you
cannot really improve upon nature's
own. Their herbal remedies grow right
in their own back yard in a cultivated
garden plot and in the woods
surrounding their farm in Moncure.
John and Hattie brought a sample of
their herbs to the 1978 N.C. Folklife
Festival in Durham and displayed
them on a chart with labels and a
Biblical inscription.
"In the midst of the street of it, and on
either side of the river, was there the
tree of life..." the inscription began.
"The Bible's the basis of herbal
healing," John says to folks at the
festival.
"...which bare twelve manner of
fruits, and yielded her fruit every
month; and the leaves of the trees were
for the healing of the nations.
Revelations 22:2."
"I believe that," John says. "The
Lord made it all. That's all we have to
go by."
"Herbs will cure anything that's
wrong with anybody," John explains.
You just have to know what to get for
what ailment."
John had a little bit of every thing
tacked up on his chart samples of
sasaparilla, sassafras, rat's vein, night
shade, bear's foot, catnip and rabbit
tobacco and life everlasting.
John has a hot (very hot) pre
breakfast appetizer that is sure to
knock your socks off. Sip a little
sasaparilla soaked in Georgia Moon
whiskey and you have a cure for
arthritis, John says. Also purifies your
blood. John oughta know. He takes it
everyday.
"Cut up your sasaparilla in two inch
pieces. Fill a quart jar three-fourths
full. Pour in your Georgia Moon," John
days. "Take a tablespoon before
breakfast. Repeat at bedtime."
John, who learned his herbal
wisdom from his mother, picks and
tends the herbs. Hattie does the fixin'
and b re win'.
Hattie says the herbs were "a
necessity with the family we had. I've
raised eight boys and six girls. We
lived out in the country and
transportation was limited. We didn't
have an automobile, just a mule. We
couldn't afford a doctor everytime one
of the children got sick."
"But my children were pretty
healthy," Hattie says. "We gave most
of our herbs to other people's children.
For the measles, we'd brew up some
herbal tea. For mumps, we'd rub some
hog jowl grease on em.
"We'd take a little of one thing, and if
it didn't work, we'd try something else.
Never anyone take sick from herbs.
With mint tea, you can take two or
three cupfuls, won't bother you at all.
Now poke root's powerful. You don't
take but a little of that.
"Only thing that ever hurt me was
when a doctor told me to take eight
aspirins a day. You can take too much
of anything.
"We don't have anything against
doctors. There are times you need a
doctor quick. But it makes sense to
help yourself when you can," Hattie
says.
A young festival goer in an orange t
shirt goes by John's herbal exhibit and
is much taken in by it. Told John he
had heard about an herb in China that
is great for longevity.
"You take it and you'll live 250
years," he tells John who nods politely.
John laughs saying, as the orange t
shirt disappears, there goes one
person with some familiarity with a
certain weed himself.
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Matt photo by Allen Jemigan
For constipation, John suggests you
take grip grass. "Cut off three inches
of it. Boil it in a quart of water, down to
two cups. Then count the steps from
where you are to the bathroom, cause
it clears out your system.
John's sister, Maude Bryant, gets
into the herbal act, too. Maude was a
lay midwife for about thirty years,
learned the skills from her midwife
mother. She delivered eight of John
and Hattie's fourteen children and
had eleven children of her own.
Maude fixed "many, many a potion"
for her children, her nieces, nephews
and the neighbors.
"Wild cherry and red oak bark
boiled together is for whatever is your
trouble," Maude says. "Boil it down to
a pint. Take a teaspoon three times a
day. It makes a quart after you add a
pint of whiskey. The whiskey
preserves it, so it won't spoil so quick."
John says to chew the root of rat's
vein for heart trouble, smoke or chew
rabbit tobacco for asthma, drink
brewed yard mint for stomach trouble
or yo time you up right, you women."
If it's poison ivy that has you itching,
John tells you to put a cupful of night
shade in sweet milk, mash the leaves
up. Dip a cotton rag in and rub it on.
If summer flies are buzzing your
way, John proposes a solution for that.
"Mash up some catnip in a saucer.
Add a little sweet milk and sugar.
When one fly gets a taste of it, he goes
an' tells the others. Soon, you'll get a
whole bunch of em eatin' it. It swells
em up. It'll kill many a fly, I'll tell ya'
that."
John and Hattie will celebrate their
50th wedding anniversary next year.
And you can bet herbs will be part of
the celebration feast.
Georgia Moon will probably make
an appearance, too.
Patty Giebe
Arthel 'Doc' Watson brought
more than just his famous
banjo-picking and ballad
singing to the Folklife Festival in
Durham. He was accompanied by no
less than eight kinfolk from the
mountains of Western North Carolina
The presence of the Watson clan
added a number of mountain folkways
to the festival. On the festival stacje
Sunday, Doc Watson played his
traditional music with guitar, banjo,
harmonica and song to a hot but
enthusiastic crowd. Doc soon called
upon Cousin Willard to give his
version of the tragic Tom Dooley
legend, which Doc gave with his
sensitive rendering.
Cousin Willard wanted to dance, so
Doc plunged into Salty Dog. Willard's
feet hit the floor and the crowd joined
them in exuberant accompaniment,
singing and clapping wildly. The
dance-crazy crowd exploded again
when Willard's granddaughter, Polly
Watson, started dancing
unexpectedly on the stage in a style
that showed without a doubt who her
, granddaddy was.
t Up the hill in the Mountain Area, the
Watson clan occupied a corner of the
compound where they demonstrated
mountain skills and sold examples of
their handicraft. Willard leaned
against a tree next to his still, puffing
occasionally on a Camel through his
'smoking stick' and answering
questions from curious and often
moonshine-thirsty onlookers.
"There's only water in there," Willard
told the ones that asked for corn
whiskey. "They wouldn't let us do it up
right."
'The government knows I've got
this, there hasn't been a drop made in
it. I made this small still up to show
people how it's done. I take it with me
to things like this (folk festivals) all
over the place."
Willard had heard about a large
bootlegging operation near Elon
College that was recently raided by
state and federal agents. "Them boys
were making some likker," he said.
Willard had had better luck in his only
run-in with revenuers. "When I was a
youngster, oh, about 16 or 17, I saw ;
some agents raid a still I was working ;
for in Tennessee. Didn't get me. I was
out gathering wood, that was my job." :
Willard's wife, Ora, presided over
the tent where the family's handicrafts
were displayed and sold. To handle
the brisk business, their son,
daughter-in-law and two
granddaughters pitched in to help.
The most popular items were
Ora's colorful quiltwork and Willard's
hand carved wooden toys, especially
the paddle that would set four small
wooden hens to pecking for corn as
soon as it was picked up. Willard
prided himself on the intricately
carved carriage with a team of horses
that was displayed.
The Watson family exemplifies the .
spirit that made the 1978 Folklife . ;
Festival a success. Willard patiently
explained where to put the corn mash
in the still and then responded to
another request by calling his
granddaughter Polly to join him in , j
an impromptu encore of his Salty Dog i i
dance. f. '.j
The crowd loved it.
John Hoke s i