by D M Barrett
At about 10:00 am the preacher finished his morning studies and ventured across the road to the discount grocery. He hoped to get a glimpse of the first ever edition of The Mountain Gazette.
“Come in, preacher! I’ve got you a newspaper hot off the press,” Jack Wright exclaimed.
“Anything worth reading?” the preacher inquired.
“There’s lots of ads from all of the local businesses. He’s included some state and national news. But you are part of the front-page news,” the shopkeeper said.
“That’s reassuring,” the preacher said as he rolled his eyes.
“It’s about the upcoming mayoral election,” Mr. Wright explained.
“I wasn’t aware that there was a mayor,” the preacher said with a puzzled look.
“There hasn’t been a mayor here for five years but now there’s talk about needing one,” the storekeeper replied.
“What does it say?” the preacher asked.
“It says that the local business owners, the banker, and much of the public want a new mayor. It says you are acting as de facto mayor, whatever that means, and a Mountain Gazette poll puts you leading the pack of potential candidates by polling at 75%,” Jack Wright read.
“De facto mayor suggests that I’m acting as an unelected mayor. I doubt that he left Main Street to conduct his poll,” the preacher said slightly sarcastically.
“It says that Sheriff Hankins endorsed you,” Jack Wright said.
“Give me a copy of the newspaper. I’ll read it without your commentary,” the preacher said with a chuckle.
After flipping through the eight-page Mountain Gazette, the preacher exclaimed, “Oh no!”
“Did you find something juicy?” Jack Wright asked hurriedly.
“It’s in the Around Town column and it’s not good,” the preacher stated somberly.
“What does it say?” the proprietor inquired.
“It says that Dr. Marcus Whitman and Miss Anna Mae Crowder are planning to wed before Labor Day and suggests we should look for a premature baby. It says that the local preacher has been spending a lot of time with the county nurse and it appears a romance is budding. It asks if a local storekeeper’s wife is aware that he hides a jar of moonshine and almost weekly secretly shares it with a young woman barely half his age,” the preacher read.
Before he could reply, the phone rang, Jack Wright answered it, and Dr. Whitman accused him of leaking his business to the newspaper.
“This is bad, preacher,” Jack Wright said with an ashen face.
“It’s about to get worse,” the preacher remarked.
“Why do you say that?” Jack Wright asked.
Before the preacher could respond Frankie Wright, the shopkeeper’s wife, came marching through the door. In years to come the preacher would describe her entrance as being that of General Sherman marching through Georgia.
“I want that moonshine and I want it now, Jack Wright!” Frankie Wright screeched.
“What moonshine?” Jack Wright said with a straight face.
“The moonshine that everyone in Ferguson knew about but me and the preacher,” she yelled.
Jack Wright reached under the counter and handed her a quart fruit jar of crystal-clear moonshine. Miss Frankie took the jar to the door, emptied it onto the ground, and threw the empty jar into the trash barrel beside the gasoline pump.
“Can you believe that he’d do something this dastardly, preacher?” she asked.
“I’ll pray for him, Sister Frankie,” the preacher responded.
“Pray hard preacher! If there’s a next time, you’ll be preaching Jack Wright’s funeral,” she proclaimed as she left the store.
“This ain’t good, preacher. You’ve got to do something about this,” the storekeeper said excitedly.
“Call that newspaper man and tell him to come down here,” the preacher instructed.
It wasn’t long before Louis Barrett entered the store and began, “Good morning! This is a great day to be alive.”
“It is if we can stay that way,” Jack Wright responded.
Before the editor could respond, the preacher began, “Louis, the newspaper looked great. The ads were well placed. The news articles were thought provoking. Overall, the newspaper was better than I had dreamed it would be,” the preacher explained.”
“I’m waiting for the ‘but’ that seems to be on the tip of your tongue,” Louis Barrett said.
“But, this Around Town column is causing considerable grief in Ferguson,” the preacher said rather gently.
“I don’t understand,” the editor replied.
“Dr. Whitman called Jack Wright and accused him of leaking their story and was close to threatening bodily harm. Miss Frankie Wright confiscated and drained his fruit jar of moonshine. If I hadn’t been present, he would likely have suffered bodily harm. Finally, I’m not looking forward to Nurse Bilbrey confronting me about a so-called ‘budding romance,’” the preacher explained.
“It’s all true. I have a source for everything that was printed,” the editor said confidently.
“Editorializing on ‘premature baby’ and your suggestion of a ‘budding romance’ go beyond what is appropriate in a small town,” the preacher explained.
“So, what are you saying, Brother Mann?” the editor asked.
“We recommend that you use a little more discretion when speculating and consider what’s in the best interest of your subscribers,” the preacher said.
“Well, it sure did sell newspapers. Some people brought two and three copies,” the editor said with a chuckle.
“A word of caution, Brother Barrett: Double check your facts, consider your sources, and act in the best interests of those who read and support your newspaper,” the preacher advised.
“Do you have any advice, Mr. Wright?” Louis Barrett asked.
“Yes, I do. Don’t get sick and have to see Dr. Whitman and if you see Frankie Wright – take off like a bat out of hell,” he instructed.
“Preacher, I need your help on a story,” the editor said.
“What do you need from me, Louis?” the preacher queried.
“It seems that a dispute has arisen between two local Cherokee families and the TVA over putting power lines on a local burial ground,” the editor explained.
Jack Wright and the preacher looked at each other and the preacher asked, “Where did you hear about that?”
“I saw the engineers arrive Tuesday. When they quit work they claimed to have had a heated complaint from the Cherokees. They said they were bringing down an Army company from the Richmond Depot to protect them as they worked,” Louis Barrett explained.
“This is bad,” Jack Wright said.
“No, it’s very bad,” the preacher remarked.
“I’m headed over to talk to the locals and get their side of the story before I go to press. I can use you to verify the facts and state that you were present during the interview,” the editor explained.
“We can go in my truck. We’ll have to park about 100 yards from their property and walk the rest of the way,” the preacher said.
As the two men walked toward the small enclave of the two Cherokee families, the editor asked, “How do you think this is going to play out?”
“The Tennessee Valley Authority is going to have to reroute those power lines from across the Cherokee burial grounds or else,” the preacher stated flatly.
“Or else what?” the editor asked.
“Or else there will be violence,” the preacher explained.
“The chief engineer said the power will be generated from a dam located across parts of the Obey and Cumberland Rivers. He said the rights of way had been purchased in the past two years and that the matter was settled,” the editor said.
“Let’s get the Cherokee version before you go to press,” the preacher cautioned.
As the two men approached the small encampment, they were greeted by one of its older male residents. He looked more like a local than a Che
rokee except for long hair and some jewelry.
“It is our honor to be permitted in your village,” the preacher said as he bowed his head slightly.
“It is our honor to host a holy man who cares greatly for his people,” the Chief replied.
“My name is Thomas Preacher Mann,” the pastor said.
“I am Andy Standing Deer. I am the local leader of the Cherokee. I am from the Eastern Band of Cherokees, but our descendants settled here after the Great War,” the man explained.
“This man is Louis Barrett. He is the editor of The Mountain Gazette newspaper in Ferguson. He is here to find the truth about the government violating your sacred burial grounds,” the preacher said.
“We will answer his questions truthfully,” Standing Deer replied.
“What is the conflict between the local Cherokees and the government engineers?” Louis Barrett asked.
“We settled here after the Great War. We were given land for our grandparents fighting with the Confederates. We have a deed given to them by the grandfather of Miss Rosie, the innkeeper,” Standing Deer explained.
“Was the deed ever filed at the courthouse?” the preacher asked.
“I do not know. But we have the deed here in our dwelling,” Standing Deer replied.
As he went to retrieve it, the editor asked the preacher, “Does it have to be filed to be legal?”
“A recorded deed is the best way to protect a property interest. If there is a dispute, it’s often a race to the courthouse to get a deed filed. If there is no other deed filed, an unfiled deed is paramount. Also, they have been living here, openly and notoriously, for about 75 years. Undoubtedly, it’s theirs by adverse possession alone,” the preacher instructed.
“What about the burial ground?” the editor inquired.
“If it were a normal piece of ground, it could be taken legally by the government upon payment of just compensation under the power of eminent domain. In some cases, the courts permit a cemetery to be relocated if the taking involves rights of way,” the preacher said.
“Do these people have any recourse to save their sacred burial grounds?” the editor inquired.
“I need to see the deed,” the preacher said.
Andy Standing Deer returned with the old deed in hand. The paper was faded as was the ink. There was no doubt about its age and authenticity.
“What do you think?” the editor asked.
“The deed is made out to Cherokee Nation,” the preacher said.
“What does that mean?” Andy Standing Deer asked.
“It means that this land belongs to the Cherokee tribe and not just to your ancestors alone,” the preacher responded.
“I could have told you that, Holy Man,” Standing Deer said with a smile.
“This piece of paper will loudly tell it to the government and their engineers,” the preacher announced.
“What is the effect of that deed?” Louis Barrett demanded.
“It means that the government has invaded the sovereign soil of the Cherokee Nation and is desecrating one of its sacred burial grounds,” the preacher explained.
“What’s going to happen?” the editor asked.
“Andy Standing Deer, Thomas Preacher Mann, and Louis Barrett are going to the Putnam County Courthouse and file this deed into the legal records. Thereafter, we are all three making a peaceful visit to see the TVA’s chief engineer,” the preacher explained.
* * *
After they returned from the Putnam County courthouse, the preacher parked the truck and the three men walked toward the work area of the government engineers. The work crew was clearing trees and brush but had not reached the burial site.
“I’m Thomas Preacher Mann. This is Louis Barrett and Andy Standing Deer whom I believe you’ve met,” the preacher said as he offered his hand.
“I’ve met these two gentlemen previously. I’m Watson Driver, chief engineer with TVA,” the man explained while shaking the preacher’s hand.
“I apologize for interrupting your work but wanted you to be aware of some things that you might want to share with your superiors,” the preacher said apologetically.
“Please explain,” the engineer encouraged.
“Here is a deed that is registered at the Putnam County Courthouse. This land was ceded to the Cherokee Nation by its original owner some 73 years ago,” the preacher said.
“How does that affect us?” Mr. Driver asked.
“Essentially you are trespassing on the land of a sovereign nation and about to desecrate a sacred burial ground,” the preacher explained.
“I’ve got paperwork that says this ground has been taken by eminent domain. My work order gives me the right to clear land and set poles and string transmission lines,” the chief engineer sneered.
“Mr. Driver, I suggest that you send your superiors a telegram from the telegraph office in Crossville. It will likely change your mind and prevent you from making a serious and costly mistake. I doubt that you will be directed to continue on your present course of action,” the preacher warned.
“I’ll make some notes and send one of my guys to Crossville. If you come back mid-morning tomorrow, I will have a reply,” the engineer promised.
“I have discussed your situation with the Cherokees. They have no problem with TVA clearing this land, setting poles, and stringing transmission lines. They have a serious problem with the route soon to be taken through their burial grounds or cemetery,” the preacher said.
“It’ll be a few days before that section of land is reached. Hopefully, this will be resolved by then,” the engineer stated.
Once the trio had walked a sufficient distance from the work site so they wouldn’t be heard, the newspaper editor asked, “What do you think?”
“He’s with the government and he’s not here to help us,” the preacher said bluntly.
“I agree,” said Andy Standing Deer.
“What’s next?” Louis Barrett inquired.
“We’re all three taking a brief trip to the telegraph office before the feds get there. Andy Standing Deer is going to send a telegraph to the Eastern Band and seek their guidance and counsel,” the preacher said.
“The Holy Man is right. The government is not truthful,” Standing Deer remarked.
“There’s another problem,” the editor said.
“What is that?” the preacher asked.
“That engineer told me this morning that he had a company of soldiers from Richmond Depot on their way,” Louis Barrett reminded.
“How many soldiers are in a company?” Standing Deer asked.
“A platoon is typically 25 to 50 men organized into two sections or squads. A company contains three to five platoons or about 60 to 100 soldiers,” the preacher replied.
“How do you know those numbers?” the editor inquired.
“I was the leader of a squad or half platoon in the war,” the preacher said flatly.
“Looks like we’re headed up the mountain,” the editor remarked.
On their return from Crossville, the preacher was in deep thought as he drove the old black Ford truck. He had helped Andy Standing Deer compose the telegram to the leaders of the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Nation. He ended his message with a request that the tribe immediately dispatch 100 warriors to Ferguson to defend the sacred burial grounds from desecration.
“What are you thinking, preacher?” the newspaper editor asked.
“If this impasse can’t be resolved peacefully, we are headed for armed conflict,” the preacher said solemnly.
“Holy Man speaks the truth. Cherokees have been moved many times after their land was seized by the government. Now they want to move our dead. If the government tries, there will be war,” Andy Standing Deer said defiantly.
“Brother Barrett, you might want to hold the story until we see what happens tomorrow,” the preacher recommended.
“Indeed,” remarked the newspaper editor.
* * *
About 10:30
am the following morning, Andy Standing Deer and his two companions arrived at the work site. They noticed that about 80 soldiers were present and had dug in with their backs to Jerusalem's Ridge. The Company had assumed defensive positions along the perimeter of the entire area.
The Chief Engineer was accompanied by a second lieutenant. Both men had a stern look.
“This is Lieutenant Anderson. He’s got your response, preacher,” the engineer said sarcastically.
“This site will be cleared, poles erected, and transmission lines strung. This will be done according to the original plan that Engineer Driver is following,” the Lieutenant said arrogantly.
“I think that is a foolish and illegal position,” the preacher said.
“I recommend that you three get the hell off government property or we’ll arrest and detain you for interference with government operations,” the lieutenant warned.
The preacher started to turn and leave the site along with the editor and Standing Deer. An enlisted man, in somewhat of a show of force, lifted his rifle and pointed it toward the group.
Dozens of Cherokee warriors had positioned themselves among the rocks and trees that placed them in flanking positions to the soldiers. When the soldier raised his rifle to the preacher, the editor, and Standing Deer, the Cherokees raised rifles and bows to the soldiers.
In a panic the soldier fired to his left. The bullet ricocheted off a large boulder and struck the preacher in the back. A firefight ensued with Standing Deer and Louis Barrett dragging the preacher out of the hot zone. Once the trio was safely out of range, the Cherokees stopped firing. A moment or so later, the soldiers ceased firing.
The two men placed the preacher in the back of the old black truck. Louis Barrett drove the truck quickly to Dr. Whitman’s office in Scott’s Apothecary while Andy Standing Deer attended to the comatose preacher.
Upon being told of the news, Joe Scott, Dr. Whitman and Standing Deer carried the preacher into the exam room. Dr. Whitman motioned the men out of the room just as the newspaper editor arrived.
“What are you going to do for him?” the editor asked.
“Try to save his life. He’s been shot in the back. He’s losing blood and he’s in shock. Be sure to put that in your damn newspaper,” the physician screamed as he slammed the door.
