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."

New York Times proofreaders didn't catch 'Old Smoky' instead of 'Great Smoky'. That year, 'On Top of Old Smoky' was a popular song by the Weavers.

 

 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.

In the big inning, God created baseball

     Congratulations to Coach Tim Corbin and the Vanderbilt University baseball team for winning the 2014 College World Series out in Omaha. 
     I was fortunate enough to cover that event three times during my sportswriting career: 1975 with South Carolina and 1995 and 1996 with Clemson (where Corbin was an assistant coach). On one of those trips, the Omaha World Herald produced a special edition that included the following piece by George Sisler—not the Hall of Fame first baseman but a war correspondent for the Memphis Commercial Appeal who became an preacher in the 1960s. 
     It's a game story cut and pasted from the King James Version of the Bible. It's quaint in its cliches, apocalyptic in its description of a double play, and prophetic in the reference to pitching around Aaron. (Hank Aaron, who recently turned 80, would have been a 16-year-old kid in Mobile when this was written in 1950.) This is old-school, old-testament baseball—there is no mention of a savior at the end. Of course, it was 1-1 in the ninth, so it wasn't a "save situation," either. 
     If you read closely, you'll find some irregularities. Israel got four outs in the first inning, including a two-out sacrifice. That can happen when you take scripture out of context. Philistines can go ask St. Peter for a review. On the other hand, this would not have been the first time Israel got an extra out—see Joshua 10:13! 
     I could not find this anywhere else on the Web, so I posted it here just for you: 

      The people gathered ^{Ex 32:1} to see the battle, ^{1 Sam 17:28} and the people sat down to eat and drink ^{Ex 32:6} sweet water ^{James 3:11}  and parched corn. ^{Josh 5:11}

     Eli sat upon a seat by the wayside, ^{1 Sam 4:13}  and he stretched himself ^{1 Ki 17:21} that he may see good. ^{Ps 34:12}

       So the people shouted: ^{Josh 6:20} Where are the nine? ^{Luke 17:17} Let the young men now arise and play before us. ^{2 Sam 2:14}.

     The first came out ^{Gen 25:25} and went into the field ^{Num 22:23} and they stood every man in his place. ^{Judg 7:21}

     And Peter called ^{Mark 14:72} whether it be good or bad, ^{Lev 27:12} as one mocketh another ^{Job 13:9} with loud voices: ^{Luke 23:23} His watchmen are blind. ^{Isa 56:10} And he stooped to ^{1 Sam 24:8} make clean the platter. ^{Luke 11:39}

     And the trumpeters sounded: ^{2 Chr 29:28} Kohath shall pitch. ^{Num 3:29} And Samson went and caught. ^{Judg 15:4}

     David was up ^{2 Sam 24:11} on the left side ^{Ez 1:10} and he struck it into the pan ^{1 Sam 2:14} foul.  ^{Matt 16:3} The second was offered. ^{Judg 6:28} He striketh.^{. Job 34:26} On the third ^{Gen 22:4} he struck ^{1 Sam 2:14} him out. ^{Gen 22:11}

     So the Levite went in. ^{Judg 17:10} He stood, and measured the earth; he beheld and drove ^{Hab 3:6} for an homer. ^{Hos 3:2} And all the people shouted with a great shout. ^{Josh 6:20}

     And Noah went in ^{Gen 7:7} and did fly ^{2 Sam 22:11} into the field. ^{Num 22:23} And Jothan ran away ^{Judg 9:21} and looking back ^{Luke 9:62} gathered it. ^{Isa 62:9}.

     And Aaron went in ^{Ex 5:1} and worketh it ^{Isa 44:12} two and two. ^{Gen 7:9} And Samson said: ^{Judg 15:3} Strike it! ^{Ex 12:7} And Aaron spake: ^{Ex 4:30} Be not one of them that strike. ^{Prov 22:26} And the man refused to smite. ^{1 Ki 20:35} And Aaron took ^{NUM 16:47} and he walked. ^{1 KI 15:3}

     Amon sacrificed ^{2 CHR 33:22} and Aaron ran ^{Num 16:47} into the second ^{Heb 9:7} and overran, ^{2 Sam 18:23} and with the bag ^{Mic 6:11} afar off, ^{Gen 22:4} a good man out. ^{Matt 12:35.}

     Now Jeremiah came in and went out ^{Jer 37:4} being caused to fly. ^{Dan 9:21} And the men of Israel retired. ^{Judg 20:39}

     Then the Philistines went up. ^{Judg 15:9} And Joseph was captain ^{Gen 39:1} of the Philistines. ^{Judg 3:31} And Absalom pitched. ^{2 Sam 17:26}

     Then Joseph commanded to fill their sacks. ^{Gen 42:25} Shimei came forth, ^{2 Sam 16:5} stood, and walked. ^{Acts 3:8} The pitcher ^{Ecc 12:6} looked this way and that way. ^{Ex 2:12} He stretched out ^{Hos 7:5} and threw. ^{Acts 22:23} And Archers hit. ^{1 Sam 31:3} And it came to pass on the second, ^{Luke 6:1} Joab caught ^{1 Ki 2:28} the line ^{Job 38:5} and threw ^{2 Sam 16:13} at the first. ^{Gen 13:4} Therefore, David ran and stood upon ^{1 Sam 17:51} the first, ^{Gen 13:4} put forth his hand and caught ^{Ex 4:4} the toss. ^{Jer 5:22}  This is the second death. ^{Rev 20:14}

     Then Joseph could not restrain himself, and he cried: ^{Gen 45:1} Goodness, if thou continue in ^{Rom 11:22} going down, ^{Gen 15:12}, our bones are dried, and our hope is lost ^{Ez 37:11} and my garments ^{Isa 63:3} and job. ^{Ex 14:20.}

     And Abram went up. ^{Gen 13:1} And Abram drove ^{Gen 15:11} into the air. ^{Acts 22:23} Judah came in ^{Gen 38:8} under it. ^{Dan 4:14} And through the idleness of hands ^{Ecc 10:18} the fly ^{Is 7:18} droppeth through, ^{Ecc 10:18} giving him a double. ^{Deut 21:17}

     Abraham took the wood and ^{Gen 22:6} caught hold of ^{2 Sam 18:9} an hard ^{Matt 25:24} and high ^{Rev 21:12}  delivery ^{Is 26:17} and smote it ^{Judg 7:13}  that thou mayest go home. ^{Judg 19:9}

     Thus and thus ^{Judg 18:4} Israel fought ^{Josh 10:42} and the Philistines fought ^{1 Sam 4:10} until the ninth. ^{Lev 25:22} For each, one ^{Num 7:3} in the first, ^{Gen 8:13} and seven times ^{Lev 25:8} after that they ^{Ecc 9:3} gathereth eggs. ^{Is 10:14}

     In the ninth ^{Lev 23:32} Israel went out ^{1 Ki 20:21} in a row, ^{1 Ki 7:3} and none came in. ^{Josh 6:1} He sent divers sorts of flies among them, ^{Ps 78:45} and they caught every one. ^{2 Sam 2:16}

     The first man ^{1 Cor 15:45} for the Philistines ^{1 Sam 28:15} drew the third, ^{Rev 12:4} and the fourth ^{Ex 28:20} came unto the outside. ^{Judg 7:19} He walketh. ^{Job 22:14} The pitcher ^{Ecc 12:6} climbed up ^{1 Sam 14:13} and pitched. ^{Gen 12:8} And Moses put it upon a pole ^{Num 21:9} for an homer. ^{Hos 3:2}

     And there was a very sore battle that day; and Abner was beaten, and the men of Israel. ^{2 Sam 2:17}

     And behold, the man clothed with linen, which had the inkhorn by his side, reported the matter, ^{Ez 9:11} and wrote it in a book. ^{1 Sam 10:25}

Columbia's unforgettable brick mimes

     Watching that blockbuster LEGO movie reminded me of just how much silly fun you can have riffing on bricks.
     You thought bricks were just a bland facade of suburban affluence? Bricks never made you laugh? Then you must not have driven across South Carolina toward Myrtle Brick, back in the days when you might play a golf course designed by Jack Bricklaus, sing along with Brickney Spears, or go deep-sea fishing for Moby Brick.
     Those were the kind of visual puns portrayed by cartoon bricks we used to enjoy on one perpetually clever billboard along I-20 near Columbia. On the long drive from Greenville to Myrtle, it was a welcome sign of comic relief that could keep our family entertained for miles.
     Bricks can't talk, but they sure can mime. On that billboard in Columbia, a brickture could be worth a thousand words.
     Like this one from the 1980s:

     Once you take time to study the details, it's not hard to figure out that this is brick-dancing. But try to decode it with a quick glance at 70 mph.
     The billboard advertised the Richtex Brick factory near the Broad River Road exit. The signs were never sales pitches, and the Richtex logo was the only wording I ever saw. Yet that solitary billboard did its job so well that the Richtex brand remains engrained in my mind long after Brits bought the brickyard.
      That campaign must have been a marketing challenge. How do you advertise bricks—a once-in-a-lifetime purchase that involves no customer loyalty, no price breaks, no free installation, no sentimental values, and no distinctive qualities? Has anybody ever built or bought a house based on the brand name of the brick?
     What's an ad agency to do?
     "Exit here for bricks"? I don't think so.  
     "Lifetime warranty"? That goes without saying. 
     When all else fails, drop back and pun.
     Hey, we're all groan-ups here.
     Stop, you're kiln me. 

     Here comes another one: 

     When I searched for these masterpieces on the Internet, I hit a brick wall. All Google could find were a few old chats and a 1987 newspaper clipping.* That's not surprising, since the brick ads date way back to the 20th century, long before Picasa and camera phones became so ubriquitous. 
     It's a rare treat when you get to discover something that Google didn't know and couldn't find—something a newspaperman could declare "Scoop!" The last time this happened, I was searching for Alfred Adams' long-lost biblical proof that Boone is the second Garden of Eden. That one I eventually found offline through the Boone Chamber of Commerce.
     This time, I found a clue on LinkedIn that led me to Cynthia Gilliam, the advertising artist with Columbia's Semaphore agency who developed the campaign for Richtex. She directed me to an old Facebook wall where a few of the billboard images survive. I am reposting these here with all due credit and gratitude.
     Gilliam obviously took delight in that campaign, and she shared how it "went viral" way before social media, sparking discussion on morning radio shows and hometown newspapers across South Carolina. I wonder if all that spontaneous buzz/free advertising might be one of the reasons why brick houses are so popular in the heart of Brixie. 

"Tunnelvision" on brick. Marion Street, Columbia

     Personally, I think the brick ads might be the best thing to come out of Columbia since my dear wife. In fact, bricks and billboards may represent the pinnacle of Columbia's creativity, considering Blue Sky's "Tunnelvision" mural, along with the recent tourism billboards with the self-depbrickating slogan, "Famously Hot, Surprisingly Cool."
     Mary and I were headline writers when we met, so you can understand why we still enjoy twisting phrases and playing with words. Our kids ought to be thankful we didn't name them Ben Joe and Amanda Lynn. They might cringe at our hee-haw humor, but they can't deny that they are ...

     I think this one is more idiom than pun. However, you get bonus points if you bricognized a bricket fence or brickberry cobbler. Shame on you if you guessed son of a brick.
     By the way, did you know that the holes in bricks are called frogs? (Google knew.) I think this goes back to the Bible. The endless demand for bricks was the last straw for the Israelites enslaved in Egypt, so to leverage their freedom, Moses called down a series of plagues, including a plague of frogs. And the Lord said to Pharaoh, "No more mason with My peeps." 

     And that, dear children, is where holy bricks come from. Behold!

     Speaking of peeps, puns sometimes hit you out of the blue. This one is from the Reagan era, when some of us were convinced the sky was falling:

     I assume that's Henny Penny with the pink purse, aka Mrs. Cocky Locky. (That reminds me of another Columbia icon, the Troll Ball Coach, who once was a pun-ter as well as a quarterback and has now mastered the faked pun and the brick-handed compliment. Lots of orange-clad folks around Clemson and Knoxville have other sobriquets for him, some that rhyme with brick.)
     When budgets are tight, an agency may be able to squeeze multiple messages out of the same scene. These two holiday billboards feature the same silhouetted house, presumably made of brick, as well as the same moon, presumably made of bricotta cheese. I see five or six more briquettes, depending on whether those fluttering hallowingers are really brickbats. How about you? 

 

      Puns have an undeservedly bad reputation. Some snobs say they are the lowest form of humor. Yet Shakespeare and Jesus dabbled in puns, and Hitchcock called them the highest form of literature. 
     I will admit that too many puns may spoil the blog. And if you haven't had too many already, you soon will. Before you censor me, just remember: If puns are outlawed, only outlaws will have puns. 
     As far as I'm concerned, the only thing wrong with a pun is when the author writes, "No pun intended." If you didn't intend it, then backspace and change it. More often, "No pun intended" means exactly the opposite—I not only intended it, but I want to call it to your attention because you might be too brick-headed to get it on your own.
     No such intent here on my blog. 
     Nope, unintended.

_______________________

THE BRICKS START HERE
*The Richtex billboards begin in 1979, according to a clipping of a 1987 AP story that Google found in the archives of the Tuscaloosa (Ala.) News. (Gilliam's Semaphore Agency took the account in 1982, and all the examples I posted are from Semaphore.) The AP story included a wirephoto of Chip off the Old Brick, so we can confidently date that one to 1987. Other first-generation illustrations mentioned in that story were Brick Dancing, Bricken Little, Aerobricks, Brick of the Litter, and Brickfast of Champions.

Welcome to the Garden of Eden

The Green Park Inn's green horse faces south on the Eastern Continental Divide, as if he might sip from the Pee Dee and piddle-dee-dee into the Mississippee.

 Four of America's more poetic rivers descend from the mountains where I live: the Mississippi, Pee Dee, Santee, and Tennessee. The first two can be traced to springs under the stately Green Park Inn, which straddles the Eastern Continental Divide in Blowing Rock. Headwaters for the other two are within walking distance.

Alfred Adams

 As far as I know, the only other place that stands at the head of four great rivers is the Garden of Eden, as described in the second chapter of Genesis.

 Alfred Adams (1911-2002), a patriarch of Boone, wrote a little essay about this, harking back to the simpler days before Boone had a Five Guys, four-lane highways, or a three-time national champion football team. 
 I couldn't find this anywhere else on the web, so I put it here just for you:

Boone, the Second Garden of Eden

by Alfred Adams 

    There’s been a certain amount of research done to locate the ancient Garden of Eden. It’s been discovered to have been forty miles east of the city of Damascus; the Damascus where Saul had his vision. From the Garden there rose four rivers. One flowed north, one south, one east, and one west.

    Boone, North Carolina, is located forty miles east of the city of Damascus, Virginia, and from the base of Grandfather Mountain rise four rivers, flowing one to each of the cardinal points of the compass—-which gives you all the physical evidence necessary to convince you that it is indeed the second Garden.

    Now with it being 3,333 feet up here to the courthouse yard, depending upon where in the courthouse yard you measure, because it ain’t level either, we have no air and water pollution problems here. The air you breathe here is just as pure as any breeze that ever chortled down a country lane before the advent of the combustion engine on civilization.

    The water that bursts out of the breasts of these majestic mountains and cascades down over the rocks, over the logs and on out into the rivers of the valley below has been tested to be 100.00001 percent pure, which makes it a good place to live.

    But eventually, the shadows lengthen and twilight falls and you can no longer ignore the clear call of the tolling bell. You’re now 3,333 feet closer to the abode of the righteous. You’ve got a running go on heaven from up here.

    And look at the other side of the coin. Suppose you fail to walk circumspectly before the world, and the keeper of the Golden City frowns upon your application and supplication. Heaven forbid! But in that event, you are 3,333 feet farther from the kingdom of the Satanic majesty. You can delay your entrance into that unwanted and unholy land by that much travel time.

    And the way traffic gets in Boone, it’s worth considering.

————————

HEADWATERS:

• Raindrops that fall in Blowing Rock actually have five ways to go to the beach. The New River heads north to the Ohio, the Watauga winds west to the Tennessee, and a thousand miles downstream they merge and feed the mighty Mississippi on the way to New Orleans. Meanwhile, the Yadkin flows east to the Pee Dee, and the Johns River goes south via the Catawba and Wateree to the Santee. Separated at birth, these two rivers eventually run parallel and are reunited in the end—emptying into the Atlantic through the Georgetown harbor in South Carolina. In addition to these three natural outlets, there are also canals that divert waters from the Santee to Charleston and from the Tennessee through Alabama to Mobile. Click here to see the drainage animated.
• A patch of rhododendron at a house across the road from the Green Park Inn in Blowing Rock is one of 53 "triple divide points" in the United States—where the watersheds of three major rivers begin. Technically, the Santee, Pee Dee, and Mississippi define this triple divide, while the Tennessee starts three miles west in the Moses Cone Park. The nearest triple divides along the Blue Ridge are on Sassafras Mountain, S.C., (head of the Santee, Savannah, and Mississippi) and in Carroll County VA (the Pee Dee, Roanoke, and Mississippi). Click here for the list.
• The Blowing Rock News published a story about the head spring of the Pee Dee, which is now hidden in a manhole at the Green Park Inn. See the postcard below. 
• You'll occasionally read that the New and the Nile are about the only rivers in the world that flow north. I've also heard Asheville's counter-culture ascribed to the fact that the French Broad runs north—as if there is something strange about that. Let's dispense with this nonsense forever: Five of the 13 longest rivers in the world flow north. So do many of our more famous rivers, including the Rhine, Niagara, Monongahela, Shenandoah, Snake, and St. Johns. Just because they go toward the top of the map does not mean they defy gravity or social norms.
• On the other hand, why do we say that rivers "rise"? They only rise when dammed. 

Antique postcard shows the springhouse that once guarded the head of the Pee Dee.
The house in the background still stands on Green Hill Road just off U.S. 321.
A thousand captured Confederates drank here the evening of April 17, 1865.