GLANCING BACK
AT BREVARD
-♦
Taken from the file* of The
Sylvan Valley News,
beginning 1895.
---—.... '
(From the file of Oct., 1906)
Invitations are out for the mar
riage of Miss Pauline Fortune and
William M. Bradley at the resi
dence of the Fortune sisters next
Sunday night.
Hon. S. T. Everett, who has
been spending much time this
summer at his mountain home in
the Davidson River section, re
turned last Sunday to his home
and business interests in Cleve
land, Ohio.
Mr. and Mrs. Beverly Trantham
are the happy parents of a daugh
ter, born Sept. 30, and a Sunday
birthday means never to want.
Excavating for the Dunn’s Rock
building is once more in progress,
with indications that the weather
will permit its completion at no
distant day.
C. M. Doyle is digging potatoes
this week, and they are good for
sore eyes—many of them too large
for market purposes.
This early cold spell has caught
the chrysanthemums before they
opened, and it looks now as if we
should have no flowers this fall.
We learn that several families
in the Selica section are preparing
to move to the cotton mills in
South Carolina this winter. How
long must it be until Brevard will
have a mill where our own people
can find employment without mov
ing to other states.
Business men who go home at
night and leave their business
houses unlocked must have unlim
ited confidence in our guardians
of the peace. Tuesday night the
watchman found two business
places unlocked and had to call
Chief Galloway to stand guard
while he notified the interested
parties.
James O. Bracken, a boy around
13 years old, disappeared from the
Thomasville orphanage in August,
and is supposed to have run away.
Any information as to his where
abouts will be gratefully received
by his widowed mother, Mrs. Flor
ida Bracken, of Brevard.
Born to Mr. and Mrs. T. T.
Loftis on Friday last a brand new
baby boy. This is their eleventh
child.
A. M. Verdery and family have
moved to the Aethelwold hotel
and will board instead of keeping
house this winter.
Mrs. Burch Allison was quite
severely hurt this week by step
ping on a rusty nail which went
through the shoe sole to her foot.
She was reported some better yes
terday.
Walter Orr, who has been in the
passenger service for five years
past, will change this week to the
freight service of the Southern
railway, with headquarters in
Brevard.
Mr. and Mrs. S. F. Puette left
yesterday after a sojourn of more
than two years among our people,
and will make their future home
at Lenoir. Mr. Puette has been
TICK, tock! Tick, tock! 1943
is wearing out. Another and,
we hope, much better year, is
ahead of us. Let us enter k with
new zeal, new hope, new objec
tives. Looking forward, we wish
you all die blessings the bright
New Year can possibly bring.
ROSE’S 5,10 AND 25c STORE
Paul iWvwt was bora aa Now Yaar's
Day, 1735. Wa hail that day! And just
as ha returned to his goldsmith's work,
long altar his historic rida, so will wa
return to the normal occupations of the
ways of peace. That day we also hail,
looking forward to it with renewed hope.
On this Eve of New Year, 1944, wo
salute all of our friends. Happy New
Year to you!
QbbottKnioht
BREVARD HENDERSONVILLE ASHEVILLE
THEOL0HOMnOWN
C*N« THESE 6LAMOK
6»RL MECHANICS— F1*ST
ITS LIPSTICK ON MT „
WftENCHBS-.NO'*/ ITS
bubble ®um on
MY CUSHION --A*
I if I W t«w
By STANLEY
WAIT TIL HE FINDS
"THOSE Core* TIPPED
*'ClE*iES*IN HIS TOBACCO
CAN * • OH‘. BOV
The Gift Speaks
By SYLVIA SPENCER
I am a gift to the National War
Fund.
I sprang from the generous hearts
of the American people.
They made me of love for a strick
en world . . .
They made me of their need to
share the fruits of their free
dom.
They made me to go into all the
world,
To help the needy, the suffering,
the wounded . . .
They made me to walk on the
battlefields of bleeding China.
In the burning cities of Russia,
Across Holland’s wasted lands,
They made me to comfort the
widows of Poland and Czecho
slovakia.
They made me to stretch my hand
to Yugoslavia, Belgium, Nor
way and Luxembourg.
America made me to feed the
shivering, the starved, in
Greece.
They made me to march across
Europe
Side by side with the homeless on
the long roads
Leading nowhere ... *
I am a gift to the National War
Fund fashioned by the gener
ous hearts of the American
people.
Through me merchant seamen,
tense from the grim convoy
vigil, find rest . . .
Through me the wet, the weary,
the war-torn soldiers find the
cheery fires, the soft chairs;
Through me the lonely, the home
sick, the foot-loose, find the
lights and the music, the
friendly word....
I am a gift to the National War
Fund.
The American people made me
from generous hearts—
They made me of school children’s
pennies and dimes.
They made me of silver money
earned to give away.
They made me of dollar bills sav
ed for a rainy day
(Oh, never in the history of
the world has there been
such a rainy day for civil
ization).
They made me or crisp paper
money, of checks and pledges.
They made me big and strong and
identified with the business in
terests of our town, is a believer
in the use of printers ink, and his
business relations with The News
have ever been pleasant.
powerful.
They made me a symbol of free
dom—
The Freedom to Give—to help the
less fortunate neighbor.
I am a gift to the National War
Fund.
I frighten Hitler and Hirohi
to—
I make Hitler and Hirohito
cringe—
They are afraid of me
For they know that I bind up
the wounds they inflict,
I rescue the refugees,
Refresh the weary,
Minister to the sick,
Replant the fields,
Americans made me from their
hearts.
They made me in every county
and town,
They made me in every state.
They made me to say to the world:
World, we have seen no rivers of
blood in our streets.
We have seen no trail of ragged
souls across our land.
We have seen no homes cracked
and crumbling . . .
We have seen no starved children
with hungry eyes and swollen
bellies.
We have not seen our Churches
burned and bombed.
Our school and factories ruined.
Our gardens, our green parks
ground to dust.
We have not seen our men-folk
shot against a wall—
Our women ravished.
Our children tortured.
Our cities destroyed.
We have seen none of this with
our eyes.
But our hearts see . . .
Our hearts know your suffering.
Our hearts grieve for your dead.
Our hearts mourn for your homes
and your cities.
Through our gifts our hearts speak
to the world . . .
Our hearts speak:
I am a gift to the National War
Fund.
Americans free to LIVE . . .
Americans free to GIVE . . .
Made me.
National War Fund—
Reproduction Rights
NO EXPERIENCE
Moss: “I had to fire my new
stenographer.”
Clerk: “Didn’t she have any ex
perience?”
Boss: “None at all. I told her
to sit down and she started look
ing around for a chair.”
iStMtihMlSlMRMM
eaKS
TUw
is IteU J
!
V
It is easy to tell. The bustle and merriment;
the good fellowship. We are wishing you,
and You and YOU all the good things
that 1944 can possibly bring.
Duckworth Motor Co.
N. BROAD ST.
— PHONE 198
An American Soldier
Talks
By Edgar A. Guest
['lever mind the long speeches,
Never mind the verbal flowers!
\t your duty be as strong
As we try to be at ours.
Free to come and free to go,
Uncomplainingly do your share.
Keep the homes we used to know
Happy, as if we were there.
Mever mind the hero stuff!
Medals go to very few.
ifou at home be brave enough
For the tasks that fall to ycu.
What of us is asked we’ll do—
Foxhole grim or sky or sea!
ro the red, the white, the blue
Just as faithful you must be.
Here’s the way we see it all:
Wars are fought by young and
old,
Youth to fight, perhaps to fall,
Age the lines at home to hold.
Never mind the pretty speech!
Vain the victories at Rome,
Vain our dead along the beach
If they break through you at
home.
If you look on us with pride,
Give us back the pride you feel.
We are fighting side by side,
You with faith and we with
steel.
Back us until we reach the goal
And our dreadful work is done!
Back us, body, mind and soul
Until freedom’s war is won!
Gjtmms
v .. ■/
★
We've Been Hitting 'em
Where They Live, Folks,
and the futiire looks a great
deal brighter. Here’s wish
ing all our friends Health,
Happiness and Prosperity
in 1944.
Long’s Drug Store
Have a Coca-Cola * Haere Mai!
(BE WELCOME)
•.. from Wellington to Wilkes-Barre
The Yank in New Zealand quickly wins a friend when
he says, Have a “Coke”. From the equator to the poles,
Coca-Cola stands for the pause that refreshes,—‘tine tie that
binds good neighbors.
BOTTLED UNDER AUTHORITY OF THE COCA-COLA COAPANY BY
Coca-Cola Bottling Co. Asheville—Hendersonville Branch
mippitsr nfiD.rf
/944
^ Another year, another page...
time to renew old friendships and
that resolution which we make each
year—to serve our customers still
better than the year before . . . .
MEW YEAR'S 6REETINGS TO EVERYBODY
HAVE A GOTO TIME AND DROP IN TO SEE US
REMEMBER, YOU ARE ALWAYS VERY WELCOME HERE
Co-Ed &• Clemson Theatres
“Transylvania County’s Entertainment Center”