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Entered at Poet Office, Franklin, N. C.. as second class matter
Published every Thursday by The Franklin Press
Franklin, N. c. Telephone 24
, JONES Editor
?OB 8. SLOAN Business Manager
J. P. BRADY
News Editor
1IRS. ALLEN SILER Society Editor and Office Manager
i P. CABE Mechanical Superintendent
: A. STARRETTE Shop Superintendent
DAVID H. SUTTON Stereotyper
CHARLES E. WHTTTINOTON ...1.1
SUBSCRIPTION RATES
Our-sx Macon County Ivans Macon County
One Tear . . . . $3.00 One Tear $2.50
Six Months 1.79 Six Months 1.75
Ttiree Months 1.00 Three Months 1.00
A Good Idea
/
That's a fine thing, an intelligent thing, they're
doing over Xantahala way. With 'the cooperation
of the county agent's office, they're building a
booth down on the highway, where farm boys and
girls will sell their products to the motoring public.
Supplementing the booth will be a bulletin board,
on which will be listed products nearby farmers
have for sale ; the youngsters at the booth will tell
the interested motorist how to reach the farm of
the man who has honey or sweet corn or cider
or molasses for sale. Funds to finance the project
were raised chiefly through a recent benefit barbe
cue supper served at the Xantahala School.
Makes Sense
That program of Governor Hodges, to encourage
and develop small, local industries, makes a lot of
sense.
Governor Hodges is careful to explain it is not
intended to replace, but to supplement, the long
time effort to attract industries to North Carolina
from outside the state. For our money, though, the
new program makes much better sense than the
old effort to persuade, cajole, or bribe industry to
move into a community.
The old plan has certain unavoidable drawbacks.
First of all, it puts every state in the Union into
competition with every other, every community
within the state into competition with every other;
it ignores what is certainly a fact about North
Carolina ? that we have quite as much to offer
industry as it has to offer us. And while a com
munity sometimes gets exactly the industry it
wants from elsewhere ? Franklin has been un
usually fortunate ? there are occasions when what
it gets becomes a liability rather than an asset,
when the new industry pollutes the air or the
water, or both, or tends to dominate the commun
ity, or disrupts the local sdcial order.
His idea is to "make money out of what is
around you" ; that is, to process local raw mater
ials, rather than ship them away to be processed,
and then be shipped back into North Carolina and
sold here at several times the price we were paid
for the raw material. He cites North Carolina's
preeminence as a producer of agricultural products,
but the fact we process few of them. And he might
have cited, in Western North Carolina, the abun
dance of wood, and the fact that we buy wooden
souvenirs made in some other part of the United
States, or even Japan ; or the fact that we ship
most of our lumber, then pay top prices for furni
ture made in High Point, or even Grand Rapids.
The governor would continue the campaign to
bring industry in from outside the state, but he
would rather have a number of small, local in
dustries, "where we do it all ourselves", than a
single, big industry from somewhere else.
The governor's plan makes sense for at least
half a dozen reasons;
(a) By processing the raw materials where thcv
are, freight charges are saved; (b) the people in
the community are likely to have some facility in
working with the raw materials they are familiar
with ; (c) such small, local industries are almost
sure to he locally owned ? absentee ownership of
anything is recognized as bad; (d) the program
would make for diversification of industry, so that
a recession in one particular manufacturing line
would not prove a crippling blow; (e) with small,
diversified industries, neither the community nor
the individual is overshadowed by some industrial
overlord ? both still own their own souls; and
(f) the governor's .plan for a lot of small, diversi
fied industries probably is the only way we can
do anything substantial, in the near future, about
keeping our young people at home and raising the
average per capita income.
?Governor Hodges, happily, is a practical man. He
isn't satisfied merely to point out the opportunity,
to preach the gospel ; he has set in motion plans
for a corporation to make long-term loans, for ex
pansion, to small industries, loans they cannot
obtain from commercial banks.
We say, more power to him!
Takes Money, Too!
Comments the Cherokee Scout, at Murphy :
It looks as though at least a few U. S. senators know just
who the real working press is. According to a recent Associ
ated Press story, the Senate Post Office Committee has ap
proved a bill declaring that any weekly newspaper "may
suspend publication for vacation purposes" for two weeks in
a year without losing its second-class mailing privileges.
We'll agree it would take something like an act
of Congress to make it possible for weekly news
paper folks to get away from the job for a vaca
tion. We'd point out, though, that the act wouldn't
be worth much unless it carried an appropriation!
It's hard to say which is more foolish, the old
snobbish belief that "family means everything" or
today's nonsense that "family means nothing".
? Letters
Dear Mr. Jones,
Having read the article about Mr. Charles M. Rogers, I
weuld like to add a few words on his service to the patrons.
He served so long and well. I am proud to have known a
faithful servant of the people.
I remember when he began serving this route, taking over
from Mr. Martin Jones. That was before Highway 64 was
built.
He never seemed to lose patience, no matter how gloomy
things were. When he was ill, people would ask, "how is Mr.
Rogers?"
He says he misses the people. The people miss him, too.
Respectfully yours,
B. M. SWEATMAN
Franklin,
Route 1.
Dear Mr. Jones.
The wonderful conduct of the multitude at the Centennial
celebration was a fine, living example of democracy in action.
Liberty and freedom were there, blooming in our blessed
country.
One thing on parade day greatly amused me, something
I could well understand. A grandmother, who was escorting
three grandchildren, ages perhaps four to six, about 10 a. m.
said proudly: "X wouldn't take a billion dollars for my grand
children." Just after the parade, I saw her again, almost
ready to collapse, and heard her say: "I wouldn't take care
of them again for half of Macon County!"
Now that the Centennial has brought up many pleasant
memories, I wish our elderly men and women would tell
some pioneer story to someone who could write it for them
(if they themselves could not) and it could be published in
The Press.
Hero is an example:
When Canada Peek, my father's first cousin, was nine
years old, he was out with a younger brother cow hunting.
A rattlesnake bit him. He got his brother out of the way,
killed the snake, corded the bitten place with hickory bark
he peeled off, reached home ? and lived to be a wonderful
man.
Best wishes for The Press.
Sincerely,
MRS. FAY MASHBURN
Franklin.
(EDITOR'S NOTE: We at The Press realize that the stories
of old Macon, published in the Centennial edition, only
skimmed, the surface. We'd be glad to publish such additional
ones as space will permit, from time to time in the future.)
Others' Opinions
Let Me Lead The Cheers
(Nell Battle Lewis In Raleigh News and Observer)
There's one group in the South which, during the recent
discussions about segregation, hasn't had anywhere near the
commendation that it deserves. So let me herewith lead the
cheers for Its members.
These are the Southern ministers of all denominations and
of both races who didn't suddenly discover on May 17, 1954
what was "Christian" ? by decision of the U. S. Supreme
Court. These are not the noisy clerical boys, not the front
page laddies, not the bandwagon-hoppers. Without raising
any commotion Sit all about intergration, which would muddy
the waters while publicizing themselves, they've simply been
attending, as usual, to their knitting ? and the Lord's. Happily,
they far outnumber the louder crowd.
They know that the great problem of segregation in the
South will never be solved or in way helped by the spouting
of opportunists, clerical or lay. They know that this solution
is a matter for the most prayerful consideration and effort
of us all, and not merely for the shooting-off of pious mouths.
They know that during the last 92 years, the Southern white
people, cruelly crippled though they were by the Confederate
War and Reconstruction, have done wonders, literally wonders,
for the advancement of a race which, until 1863, was In
slavery, and that, if only let alone by outside agitators and
inside exhibitionists, the white people of the South, with
their basic good will toward the Negro and their desire for
his continuous progress, will keep on providing, under the wise
and mutually beneficial restrictions of segregation, for his
advance.
So, my countrymen, I give you the Southern clergy of all
denominations and of both races who have shown both com
mon sense and patriotism and have scorned to use a crisis in
the life of their region to put themselves forward in any
way. We have the Lord's own condemnation of "blind guides"
? by no means confined to ancient Palestine. I give you the
guides in the South today who can see!
STRICTLY
PERSONAL
By WEIMAR JONES
I can never remember catch
ing a train (back in the days
when people caught trains) ex
cept at the very last minute.
Sometimes I made it only by
swinging myself up on to the
last platform, after the cars al
ready had begun to move.
The results of this procrasti
nation weren't good. Always, I
was out of breath. On a few
occasions, I missed catching it
entirely. And once I caught the
wrong train ? and found my
self traveling north, when my
destination was south !
So maybe I'm not the right
one to say this; people might
say to me, "you've got no
right to talk". Well, maybe not.
But I have a feeling that ad
mission of my own guilt about
procrastinating puts the case in
a little different light; besides,
didn't thfey used to say that
those convicted of sin made
the most powerful exhorters?
So here goes. . . .
Why do we here in Macon
County make it a habit to wait
till the very last minute to do
things? and usually when there
isn't any excuse at all for
procrastinating?
Look back at the Centennial
celebration for an illustration, it
was a grand success, of course.
But a few things didn't click
as well as they might have,
there were a few places where
it dragged, a few times when
there was confusion.
In every one of those cases,
I believe we'd find, the trouble
was that whoever was responsi
ble dkln't start IN TIME.
Everybody who lives In Macon
County is proud of a lot of
things about this Ipot, and a
bout its wonderful people. But
this habit of procrastinating
isn't one of them!
So, you laggards, let that be
a lesson to you ? so you won't
make the same mistake at
Franklin's next centennial cele
hratlon!
* * ?
This is my personal bouquet
to a small group ? but I
suspect a lot of people will
join me in saying It Is de
served.
Here ate flowers to my as
sociates on The Franklin Press.
Three weeks ago they com
pleted that week's 48-page Cen
tennial edition. Then, the next
week, starting frojn scratch on
Monday morning, they got out
14 pages, three of them filled
with Centennial celebration
photographs.
And for The Press staff, last
week was no exception to the
rule ? Macon County readers
got their newspaper Thursday
morning, right on time.
And last week, with a key
man in the mechanical depart
ment away on vacation, they
put out another 14 pages ?
and again readers got their
paper on time.
Can anybody wonder I am
proud to be a part of such a
team!
ItKKUK IN IMt INIUI-1)
Anything Can Happen To One Who Lives In A Housetrailer
R U limmia Qr.?l I
Lugging the 4500-pound pick
up and the 7, 000-pound house
trailer from the Gulf of Mexico
to Highlands in four easy days,
using two drivers, was not hard
work. The transmission under
our floorboard and the power
brakes were reassuring every
mile of the way: but, there is
always the mental strain en
route. "Journey's End" is real
only after the house is prop
erly leveled and every one hit
the hay. Sleeping in a house
that rests on springs is a
strange experience Indeed.
We were parked on the side
of Bearpen Mountain, some
where near four thousand
feet up. The nose (tongue) of
the trailer was in a dug-out,
while the rear end was several
feet above the ground, resting
on stilts.
It was midnight; the chatter
box disc-jockey out in Iowa
gave us the correct time. My
faithlul, tired wife was sleep
ing like a child. There was no
moon, the town lights were be
low us. At this altitude ' there
is often a strong breeze ? strong
enough to cause the trailer
to rock ? but tonight It was
midnight stillness. The large
Balsam trees over our trailer
were still, on guard; they would
be the first to tell us the wind
was moving. Suddenly ?
The trailer began to waltz
on it's stilts, shaking as if some
prehistoric animal had it in it's
teeth. There was a pause, as if
the thing rested to catch it's
breath; then the shaking was
repeated, followed by several
loud raps on the side of the
trailer.
My wife roused and bounced
to the window, separating the
Venetian blinds, trying to look
to the ground below. I yanked
her away from the window, not
wishing to have her exposed
to the unknown danger. As
quietly as possible I eased on
my bathrobe? the temperature
was in the high twenties. The
trailer continued shaking as I
staggered up the aisle to the
drawer where I kept my Smith
and Weston.
My wife was at my side, ask
ing, "What are you going to
do?" Stories of friends of mine,
out West, who were awakened
by parties shaking their trailer,
waiting on the outside to rob
them, returned to my mind;
stories of robbers who burned
newspapers under trailers to
frighten the occupants outside.
The shaking continued, it
seemed to grow worse. I whis
pered to my wife, "You stay
inside, I'll go outside". The
looked-for objection to this
move did not materalizet ?
With my trusty pistol in my
right hand and a flash light
in my left, I eased the trail
er door open and leaped sev
eral feet clear of the door.
Somewhere in that leap I lost
my flashlight!
The noise and rapping came
from the other side of the
trailer ? for this, I was deeply
? / ?
grateful. Something was moving
around the front pt the trailer
coming towards rhe ? it had tc
come by me because the pick
up was parked in front of the
trailer, perpendicularly. Witt
my gun cocked, shaking in the
cold dark night, I saw whal
appeared to be two eyes thai
were the farthest apart of anj
I had ever seen in all my life.
I was ready to blast awaj
when some car down the roac
flashed it's light against the
aluminum sides of my trailer
and I beheld the most beautifu
creature that ever walked uf
Bearpen Mountain! It was Mr
?Crane's beautiful pure-bred Jer
sey cow!
She had became wedged be
tween the housetraller and the
balsam tree. In struggling tc
get free, she shook the trallei
on it's stilts; swinging her head
her horns banged the side ol
the trailer. Many a strange
thing can happen to the fellow
who lives in a housetraller?
and it usually does!
News Making
As It Looks
To A Maconite
? By BOB SLOAN
Never have I seen a plainer
example of the fickleness and
sometimes unfairness of the
public mind than is being
shown by many of the people
In Buncombe and Madison
counties concerning the Pigeon
River-French Broad river road
route dispute.
For many years R. Getty
Browning, chief locating engi
neer for North Carolina State
Highway 'Commission, has been
known as a man of the high
est integrity who is particularly
outstanding in his field of work.
The peoples of the areas men
tioned above In th$ past were
particularly high in their praise
of Mr. Browning.
Now Mr. Browning, possessed
with the same integrity and
judgment, has rendered a de
cision, backed by nine of the
12 members of the North! Caro
lina State Highway Commission,
which calls for the location of
a route between North Caro
lina and Tennessee running
through Haywood County, rath
er than Buncombe and Madison
counties. So now Mr. Brown
ing Is "hasty, a waster of the
public's money, etc."
It Is very difficult for public
officials to conduct affairs in
a way whereby the most public
good is done. Attitudes like
those represented above and
pressure groups, whose only
concern is their own, make it
twice as difficult.
The attitude of Buncombe
and Madison County leaders
has been very self-centered. The
picture presented by the leading
daily paper shows the views
mostly of the disgruntled people
in this area. Both deserve the
censure of those who would see
North Carolina grow and de
velop as a whole.
* * *
Anyone wish to contribute to
a good cause ? sixty hymnals
and a piano are needed at the
local prison camp. If you really
want to do a good deed, get
in touch with the Rev. J. Bark
ley and help in this matter.
Do You
Remember?
(Looking backward through
the files of The Press)
I
50 YEARS AGO THIS WEEK
Mr. George W. Tilson and
family, of AshevUle, arrived
last Wednesday to spend a
few weeks visiting In Franklin
and Macon County.
Mr. C. G. Memmtnger has
just returned from the West
Indies and is spending a few
days with his family at Rose
mary, their beautiful summer
home. ? Highlands item.
Lieut. Governor Francis D.
Winston arrived here Monday at
noon and many of our citizens
were pleased to shake his hand.
He left yesterday to attend the
Bar Association meeting at Tox
oway.
25 YEARS AGO
Mr. Bill Higdon, who gradu
ated from the University of
North Carolina in June, return
ed to his home in Franklin
Sunday.
Mr. Dick Slagle arrived from
New York on Thursday to be
with his father, Mr. Henry
Slagle, while Mrs. Slagle, a Gold
?tar mother, is in France.
Mr. and Mrs. Homer Long,
of Norcross, Ga., have been
visiting relatives here.
10 YEARS AGO
Mrs. J. L. McKinley and
daughter, Rita, of Acompo,
Calif., are spending several days
visiting Mrs. McKinley's father,
W. V. Parker, and family, at
their home on Franklin, Route
3.
Mrs. Verlon Swaffard and
young son, Benny, left last week
for New York, where they plan
to spend several weeks with
their husband and father, Sea
man Verlon Swafford, who is
stationed there.
Miss Jeane Parry, student at
the University of North Caro
lina, Chapel Hill, has arrived
to spend the summer with her
parents, Dr. and Mrs. Wlllard
H. Parry, at their summer home
on Little Yellow Mountain
Highlands item.