Found! The Holy Grail of LeConte's Centennial

Schantz (fourth from left) with stylish University of Chicago students on a 1927 ecology field trip to the Great Smoky Mountains (University of Chicago archives)

 Orpheus Schantz was one of the original Smoky Mountain tourists and is remembered as the first paying guest at LeConte Lodge. His 1951 obituary in The New York Times described him as "one of the group instrumental in establishing the Old Smoky Mountain National Park."

In 1951, The New York Times editors failed to correct "Old Smoky" as "Great Smoky." The folk song, "On Top of Old Smoky," by The Weavers, was popular that year.

 Schantz' visit to Paul Adams mountaintop tent July 16-17, 1925, marks the birthday of LeConte Lodge. As Mike Hembree and I researched our book, LeConte Lodge, we knew that Schantz's pioneer experiences would be vital to the story. We tried to track down his journals, letters, or photographs, and even considered a wild-goose-chase road trip to the University of Chicago, where he taught.

 We had no luck before the book was published in January. Then recently, I stumbled across one of Schantz's scrapbooks right here where I live in Boone, North Carolina—in the library at Appalachian State University. I'd spent days in the special collections there, dredging up LeConte material and helping Mike research the university's NASCAR collection for his book, Petty vs. Pearson.
 Meanwhile, the Holy Grail of LeConte Lodge (acquired by App State in 2021) was keeping Schantz's secrets in an adjacent room.

Knoxville Journal, Nov. 1, 1925

 Schantz was raised on the Canadian shores of Lake Huron, became became a professor at the University of Chicago, married Carrie Flagler in 1889, raised two children, and was widowed in 1922.

 He made his first pilgrimage to the Smokies in 1918, when Andy Huff's Mountain View Hotel had only four rooms and the trip from Sevierville to Gatlinburg was by horse and buggy.  

 As a leader in the Audubon Society and a contributor to National Geographic magazine, Schantz led the 1932 Smoky Mountain Faunal Survey which identified 37 mammals in the future national park, including a rock vole that is found nowhere else in the world. "This region has been unknown zoologically," said E.V. Komarek of the Chicago Academy of Sciences. 

 Carlos Campbell, author of "Birth of a National Park in the Great Smoky Mountains," praised his influence: "Mr. Schantz has done more to boost the Smoky Mountain National Park project than any other person who is not directly connected with the movement."

 Our book documents a 1924 meeting between Schantz and Adams, who was commissioned in 1925 by the Great Smoky Mountains Conservation Association to establish the first public camp atop Mount Le Conte. They attended a scientific convention in Nashville, where Adams gave a presentation from his August 1924 climb with the Southern Appalachian National Park Commission: "Trips with the National Park Commission and Bird Check Lists Obtained." 

 The fellow bird-watchers had much more in common than we previously knew, since Schantz had camped on Le Conte in 1923. That was when Wiley Oakley guided Schantz, Frank Freels, Gertrude Schwass, and Jennie Russ up Mount Le Conte. Schantz, 49, wrote:

This is the tale of the jolly four
who spent the night on a balsam floor
on top of Leconte in Tennessee
above the clouds 'neath a balsam tree.

Hikers at the lean-to used by the 1924 federal national park commission. It's possible that this is where Schantz camped in 1923. (Dutch Roth archives)

 When I first read Schantz' description of the balsam bedding, it sounded so much like Adams' 1925 tent that I wondered if Schantz might have gotten the year wrong in his scrapbook. But the fact that he doesn't mention Adams indicates that these are two separate trips.

 On July 16, 1925, Schantz brought a larger group up to Adams' brand-new tent camp, paying $36 for 12 guests and two guides (Oakley and Will Ramsey) to spend two nights on the mountaintop.

 Schantz led dozens of excursions to the Smokies and climbed Le Conte at least 10 times. His son set up a travel agency that advertised "Springtime in the Smokies" to nature-loving friends from Chicago, and he often had enough guests to fill a Pullman passenger car for the two-day trip from Chicago to Knoxville.

Photographer Jim Thompson visited Paul Adams' camp on July 17, 1925. It appears that Professor Orpheus Schantz' group is seated in front of the tent. Adams is holding the ax. Uncle Ike Carter (standing at left in front of the tent) was once recognized as Le Conte's oldest climber; Dutch Roth is fourth to the right of Carter; and the men between them may be guides Wiley Oakley and Will Ramsey. The boys in the rear are probably some of Adams' workers (Levater Whaley, Earnest Ogle, and brothers Rellie and Bruce Maples). The structure at top right is a canvas lean-to where Adams lived. (Jim Thompson archives)

Archives at the University of Chicago include this photo of the original LeConte Lodge,

built by Jack Huff in 1926. This was filed as "Cabin in the Great Smoky Mountains," so it was easily overlooked.

 LeConte Lodge's centennial celebration will be low-key. The national park has not announced any plans for ceremonies at the lodge. I am planning to visit on July 17 (which will correspond to the second night of Schantz' 1925 trip), and we'll celebrate with guests and crew. 

Orpheus Moyer Schantz signed the lodge logbook after his 10th climb in 1938.

Notice how many of the early guests were from the Upper Midwest.

Remember Craig Kimbrel's ghostly home run?

Craig Kimbrel's 2015 Topps baseball card was his last in a Braves uniform. Saves were not a priority for the rebuilding Braves, so they traded him to the Padres on Opening Day.

 When Craig Kimbrel was a hot-shot kid and I was a rookie blogger, I posted that he might become the first Hall of Famer who never batted in a big-league game.
 Despite the inglorious way he was defenistrated by the Atlanta Braves in June, Kimbrel might yet make the Hall of Fame. He ranks fifth all-time with 440 career saves. Three of the men ahead of him have plaques in Cooperstown: Mariano Rivera with 652 saves, Trevor Hoffman with 601, and Lee Smith with 478. The only active player with more saves is Kenley Jansen, 461. Kimbrel does have more saves than six Hall of Fame relievers: Billy Wagner, Dennis Eckersley, Rollie Fingers, Goose Gossage, Bruce Sutter, and Hoyt Wilhelm.

 As a closer—a game-ending relief pitcher—Kimbrel's job description did not require him ever to come to bat. But he actually batted twice in his career, missing his opportunity to be Cooperstown's version of Moonlight Graham, who played only half an inning in 1905. Dr. Graham, the sage of the movie Field of Dreams, never fulfilled his dream to stare down a big-league pitcher, nor to "feel the tingle in your arms as you hit the ball."

 Kimbrel batted for the Padres in 2015 and for the Cubs in 2021 (the year before the National League instituted the designated hitter). Both times, he entered the game in the next-to-last inning, and then took his turn at bat so he could finish the game in the bottom of the inning. (Whatever happened to the double switch?) 

 As I researched this, I googled "Craig Kimbrel" "plate appearance" and look what AI came up with: 

 What in the name of Rick Camp? or Bartolo Colon? 

 AI's source was a Red Sox notebook story from the 2018 World Series. The lead item was an accounting of Kimbrel's gloomy season, and the second section discussed Mookie Betts' first home run in 98 post-season plate appearances. 

 Whiff! AI can't read subheads, nor tell Mookie from Craig. 

 I googled "Hall of Fame pitcher with fewest at-bats" and discovered that the record-holder is actually Jack Morris, who batted just once in a DH swap-out in 1987. At least, rather than striking out, he hit a foul ball that was caught by the right fielder. 

 Morris (elected to the Hall of Fame in 2017, 23 years after his retirement) and Rivera (who went 0-for-3) are tied for the lowest batting average in the Hall of Fame. Colon was a lifetime .084 hitter who hit his first home run at age 42. 

 Morris did make his mark in some box scores as a pinch runner. Though he never made a hit, he scored four runs over the course of his career.

Memoirs: Three-Score and 10 Blessed Years

I found this viewpoint on my 11th climb on Mount Le Conte in 2024. 
Daredevils sometimes pose on the ledge behind me.

My daring friends,
Bernie and Dewey

 Having completed my 70th year, I'm dwelling on the 90th Psalm, a prayer of Moses, where the 10th verse declares, "The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their boast is only labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away."
 Moses finished strong, and at age 120 he climbed Mount Pisgah, where the Lord showed him the Promised Land and then laid him to rest.
 At 70, I haven't had much toil or trouble—never a headache nor a heartache, even my heart attacks were painless—but the years are rolling up on my odometer. After 25 years in the newspaper business and 26 years at Samaritan's Purse, I'm contemplating retirement at the end of 2025.

 Lest all my lessons, adventures, puns, and Dad jokes pass away with me, I've jotted down these memories, on the chance that someone someday might wish they had asked me.

 Before we get into the chronology, I should deal with eternity and share my Christian testimony. When I was growing up, I wasn't sure where I stood with God. I knew that some of my friends had been baptized as babies, and I didn't know if that applied to me, and I was too terribly shy to ask.
 When I was about 11 years old, my Sunday School class made a field trip to the Anderson County jail. While we were there, in a stark chapel with wooden benches, a preacher gave a scared-straight sermon, and I remember being terrified by the prospect of hell. I remember that someone led me in the sinner's prayer, then told me to tell my parents when I got home. I assume my Sunday School teacher told them, but shy Tommy never did.
 Our family regularly attended Sunday School, though we didn't often stay for "big church." One night in November 1972, we went to a revival service at Concord Baptist Church, where the evangelist warned us that this might be our last chance. He used the illustration of a mountain climber who had reached an overhanging ledge, only to see his rope swing away from him. As it swung back, he knew he would have to make the leap, because the lifeline would never get any closer. (Of course it took a mountain-climbing example to move my heart.)
 I didn't have a load of sins to confess, but on the last stanza of Just As I Am (No. 240 in the Baptist Hymnal) I walked the aisle to "join the church," as we described it back then. Nov. 15, 1972, was my born-again birthday. My little sister Martha Ann also came forward at that revival, and we were baptized on the same day.

 If you are like I was, and not sure where you stand with God, I want you to know how dearly He loves you (John 3:16), and how you can know Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. Here is how Billy Graham explained it. 

How about that Olde English typewriter font?

1955: I was expected in 1954 but tarried until Jan. 18—costing my parents a tax deduction. I was 20 inches long, although Grandmama Essie (who worked at the hospital) proudly told everyone I measured 20 feet. We Layton kids were among 10,509 babies delivered by Dr. Anne Young, who was one of the first female doctors in South Carolina. Mama's baby book says I was adventurous: "Walked out the back door at 9½ months, received bad bump, skinned place, and a scare!" At age four, I fell and knocked out my two front teeth. I'm told my first words were "Mama" at 7½ months, followed by "Da-Da," "Bye-bye," and "Patty-cake." 

My book! And a library of friends

 For years, I said I didn't have a book in me, but along came the centennial of LeConte Lodge, which my colleague Mike Hembree recognized as a fine story-in-waiting. We collected the tales and photos, found a publisher (McFarland Books), and jumped through the editorial and licensing hoops. 

My only previous book

 On Jan. 10, just before my 70th birthday, I received my "author copies"—just in time for the Lodge centennial in this summer. (If you bought a 100th season T-shirt last year, then you should read how the 100th birthday comes after the 100th season.) Hundreds of our books were aboard the 2025 airlift in March, so that lodge guests can buy a copy. 

 I've been blessed to know dozens of authors in my journalism career. Off the top of Google's head, I came up with close to 200 books written or edited by friends and acquaintances. 

 Following is a catalogue of authors whose paths I have crossed. The bibliography says a lot about me and my circle of friends. My little library has shelves for baseball, biography, the Civil War, Clemson, history, Jesus, mountains, and NASCAR, not necessarily in that order. It includes two books titled Rebel With A Cause, as well as the synonymous Intangiball and The Intangibles; not to mention Chasing Moonlight and Chasing the Smokies Moon.

 If I have overlooked your book, please let me know so I can add it. One good thing about a blog is the ink never dries.
 Here they are, arranged alphabetically by author:

JERRY ALEXANDER (1937-2018): Jerry manned our Oconee-Pickens bureau at the Anderson Independent and knew those storied hills better than anybody else.

• 2004: The Cateechee Story
• 2006: Where Have All Our Moonshiners Gone? 
• 2008: Antebellum: Old Pickens District S.C., 1828-1868
• 2009: Blood Red Runs the Sacred Keowee

DR. FRANK AYCOCK: Frank teaches electronic communications at Appalachian State University. If you wonder why your TV won't function like a wall-sized iPhone, join us on Wednesday morning for bagels, and Doc can explain it to you.

• 2012: 21st Century Television: The Players, the Viewers, the Money 
• 2014: Television in the Cloud 

 
BILLY BAKER: We share a deep appreciation for high school sports in South Carolina. I burned out after a decade of statewide coverage for The Greenville News, but Billy's High School Sports Report is about to turn 30 and still thriving. He wrote the book on the granddaddy of them all:

• 1993: John McKissick: Called to Coach

PETER BARR: I had the honor of welcoming Peter to the summit of Sugarloaf Mountain in Rutherford County, N.C., when he became just the second man to reach the highest point in all 100 counties in North Carolina; and he was on Mount Guyot to welcome me when I became the fourth member of the club:

• 2008: Hiking North Carolina's Lookout Towers
• 2021: Exploring North Carolina's Lookout Towers