MY BROTHER EDGAR
My brother used to be an outgoing person. He used to travel and work hard whether it was logging, construction or whatever. I never met anyone who did not like Edgar. The women especially thought he was a handsome man.
Truth be told, he was probably the best looking of the eight brothers. He spent some time on the west coast in the Eugene, Florence, and Bend areas. At one time I had three sisters in the Bend area right by the three sister’s mountains.
I think I was around 14 when he brought his girlfriend, later to be his wife, Fay Henderson to the mountains of North Carolina. While I was growing up, Edgar, my brother Gerald and I spent a great deal of time in the woods hunting rabbits, squirrels, and other food for the table. Often, we would go fishing in the Auger hole and the Canebrake. The French Broad River was our main source of fish and in fact, my brother Michael overtook my brother Charles as the best fisherman in the family. Mike could catch a fish with a diaper pin or the finest of Eagle Claw fish hooks.
Mama packed our family up when Daddy got sent to prison for moon-shining and moved us to Westport, Oregon. Thelma and her husband Henson crammed us all in a 1955 or 56 Chrysler and we drove across the County like college students tying to set a record on how many people would fit in a phone book. I don’t know how anyone survived that trip.
Edgar and Gerald fished the steel-head streams and Gerald and I fished the port. Daddy hunted the mountains when he joined us after his one year prison stint. For a time we sharecropped in Banks, Oregon picking strawberries while Daddy was incarcerated. We lived in a tarpaper shack at the end of the strawberry fields and each day was a repeat of the one before. Most of the time we picked strawberries through the week. When the weekend came then we picked strawberries. Somehow we survived through Mama’s strong will and with by brother Charles standing in as the head of the family with Daddy being gone. We strung beans and picked beans. We picked blackberries and picked up beer bottles for the refund.
Later, we moved back to North Carolina and Daddy went back to moon-shining and Edgar got in a little trouble with the law by driving while driving under the influence and breaking jail and such. He ended up spending a year at hard labor in Craggy Prison. He came out a changed man. He kept to himself a lot. After a bad car wreck, he kept more and more to himself until some folks described him as a hermit. This went on for a while and all of a sudden, Edgar dried out and moved to South Carolina and started working regularly.
Edgar was home one day when one of his brothers pulled a U-Hall truck into Edgar’s house. Edgar had just got off work and did not know that the truck was loaded down with Marijuana. Suddenly, Law enforcement was everywhere and Edgar was arrested and sent to prison for something that he had no part in.
This event turned Edgar bitter and reclusive and he retreated from society for the most part and did in fact become a hermit, exiting only to get some smokes or beer. He would welcome you in and show the traditional southern hospitality, but it was clear that he was on edge until you left.
When I would visit from the West Coast, I would take my guitar to Edgar’s and play for him. There were two songs that he loved dearly. The first was: “You’re my Memory Number One” and the other was an instrumental, “You are My Flower”. Edgar loved those two tunes and I play them still. I can remember Edgar walking through the woods with me showing me different flowers such as lady slippers and lilies. He seemed to know the names of various roots, plants and trees intimately. He knew where every ginseng plant was and he loved to collect ginseng and ramps (wild onions).I know that when he worked with Daddy that Daddy taught him the difference between a Sour Gum tree and a Sour Wood tree as well as how to adjust the moonshine temper exactly to 100 proof.
Edgar was a jack of all trades. He could fix broken things like chainsaws, trucks, etc. But he can’t fix our broken hearts.
He was found dead on November 23rd 2009 floating face down in Frozen Creek, the creek he and I fished so many times and where we both grew up alongside. He lived most of his life alongside Frozen Creek.
Law Enforcement was quick to assume that Edgar was drunk and stumbled into the creek and drowned. They did not do very much of an investigation and a doctor where Edgar’s body was taken quickly announced that the cause of death was accidental drowning.
Edgar never expected or received a break from law enforcement during his life and he did not get the investigation he deserved at the end of his life. His wallet was missing and his pockets turned inside out. Quite a few drunks and deadbeats hung around Edgar’s place, some of who would kill for one dollar or less.
The truth will eventually come out. I know in my heart that the cause of death was not accidental drowning and I also know that eventually, someone will tell what happened and then and only then will Edgar be at rest. Until that time he can rest assured that his family will always love him and never forget him. He is with my Mama and Daddy, my brother Ronnie and my sister Estelle. They will sooth and comfort him.
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