THE OWEN FAMILY HOG SAGA, PART THREE by Carl Owen

The wispy, smoke-like fog that hangs over the Smoky Mountains comes from rain and evaporation from trees. On the high peaks of the Smokies, an average of 85 inches of rain falls each year, qualifying these upper elevation areas as temperate rain forests. It was a Wednesday, the day before the end of July in the year of 1919. Looking out from his front porch in the Diamond Creek Section of Transylvania County, North Carolina, Sherman Owen saw some movement at the edge of the wood line. What appeared to be a hog crossed the path leading into the woods. He pulled his pocket watch from the chain attached to his belt and gazed at the time. It was six in the morning and the heat of the July dog days had not settled in yet. He walked the path leading into the woods for a distance and leaned against one of the two twin Lombardy Poplars that soared up into the smoky haze a good 100 feet. His father, William Baxter Owen had planted the poplars 20 feet apart and they graced the entrance to his home and farm. The farm consisted of 23 acres of prime hardwood forest with a clearing for a corn crib and a hog pen. His house was of hand hewn logs nestled up close to a hill leading up to an old logging road that traversed Diamond Creek. He had added on to the log structure over the years. Although somewhat of a mismatch from the original structure, it contained enough room for his growing family. Chickens moved about a-foot as he made his way back up the small incline leading to the house. As he neared the house, he spied his wife, Jeannette Leone coming out of the bank house carved into the hill beside the house. She carried a jar of pickled corn and beans in her arms. Her long black hair hung down to her waist. Sherman could not help but marvel at her long black locks and slender pretty face. "Hey Lone", he called as he approached his front porch, "I think your hog has slipped his pen. Have Leonard go to the creek and check on him." Leonard was his oldest son and had turned out to be a great help to him in keeping the farm up and working alongside him logging timber that they floated down the French Broad River to the lumber mill in Rosman. The timber helped with expenses. He had been able to put aside some money over the last three years to purchase another 25 acre piece of land on the other side of the creek running through his property, Diamond Creek. He chuckled as he thought of the name given the creek. His sons and daughters had searched the width and breadth of the creek looking for diamonds and only finding bright red garnets and an occasional cottonmouth snake. As his wife stepped onto the side porch he heard her call to Leonard to check on the hog. As he approached the house he saw where his boys had been digging red worms around the support wood blocks around the house. He reminded himself to yell at them about undermining the structure of the house. They caught many of a speckled trout in the deeper pockets of Diamond Creek and the family often enjoyed a meal of fresh fish, coleslaw and cornbread. As he climbed the steps to his front porch, he felt his arthritis kick in around his left knee. She rubbed and cursed his knee and thought, "A man oughta get more than 54 years out of a damn knee. He was born on 26 August in 1965 as the Civil War grew to a close. Some of his relatives fought in the Civil war as part of the North Carolina volunteers. Over the hearth of his fireplace hung a Gillespie long rifle that had belonged to an Uncle who was wounded in the war. He also had an Oxen horn that had been turned into a powder horn hanging below the rifle. The Gillespie rifle had been forged in Transylvania County by the Gillespie brothers and was true to the mark although quite long and heavy. Many a deer and an occasional elk had augmented the winter meat in the Owen bunkhouse alongside the fall hog meat. His son Robert was the sharpshooter of the family. He often came home lugging squirrels and rabbits to provide meat for the family table that always had pinto beans, biscuits and cornbread with fresh or canned garden vegetables. The only things that they hauled from town in the old wagon was meal from the grist mill in Balsam Grove or salt, pepper and flour from the Rosman Company Store. No one went hungry in Sherman's house and oftentimes neighborhood kids from the Diamond Creek schoolhouse would stop by for a bowl of beans or a cob of pickled corn from the crock on the front porch. As Robert stepped into the living room of his house he saw Leonard leaving out the back door to check on the hog. He stepped into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee from the fresh brewed percolator on the wood stove. He could always count on Lone to have his coffee ready by six. He opened the bread door over the wood stove and took out a biscuit. He took his coffee and biscuit out to the front porch and settled into his favorite cane chair. As he looked down the path toward the woods, he saw Robert walking back up the well worn path to the house. Looking out on the early morning haze, The Blue Ridge Mountains were becoming more visible as the low lying fog started to lift. Soon the heat of the day would be present. He was thankful for the gentle morning breeze that wafted across his porch carrying the smell of honeysuckle and lilacs. Robert came up close to the porch and Sherman asked, "Is the hog out?" Robert nodded his head, his long brown hair falling across his forehead. "Yeah Daddy, that corner locust post by the gate was broken at the bottom and he squeezed out between the post and the gate. It looked fine when I fed him last night." "Damn hog " replied Sherman. "He will be in the bank house sooner than fall if he don't stop trying to get out. Go get Fred and Robert and we will round him up. Get some rope from the crib. We will tie him to the tree and then fix the wire and post." Leonard disappeared into the house and Sherman finished his biscuit and coffee and sat the cup on the porch railing. He could almost hear Loan say "You men had better quit leaving cups out on the porch. I am getting sick and tired of picking up after you Ethiopians. She seldom cursed, but she had a way of looking at you that was as bad as a cursing. She was a kind and gentle, loving woman. Her old man Lance did not approve of Sherman taking his choicest daughter, but nothing could stand in Sherman's way once he made up his mind. He was sometimes referred to as a very stubborn man,but he had found that his stubbornness while sometimes causing problems also kept him firmly on the path he had chosen. Oftentimes his family heard one of his favorite expressions: "Come Hell or High Water or If I live till Spring I will damn sure get it done." He looked at the coffee cup sitting on the porch rail and then picked it up and headed back into the house. As he reached the front door it sprang open and out came Leonard, Robert and Fred. He stopped for a moment, looking at his fine, strong boys and felt a surge of pride. Norma and Roxie trailed behind the boys. He glared at the girls and told them, "Git back in the house and help yore Mama". Norma said "No Daddie, we are going to help get the hog" "The hell you are do like you are told". Norma stuck out her tongue and followed Roxie back into the house. "How do you wanna do this Daddy?" Leonard said. "Well, you and Robert trail the creek on the low side and me and Fred will take the high side. If you see the hog holler and we will do the same." As he climbed the incline of the hill to get to the ridge his left knee seized for a moment and he stopped. "What's wrong Daddie you getting old? piped Fred. As he rubbed his knee, Sherman told him, "You will think old when I pull up one these Sourwood trees and beat you to death with it" Fred grinned and took the lead toward the ridge. As they walked along the Indian path on top of the ridge they looked out at the beauty of the land. The blue haze was rapidly lifting and the scents of the mountain laurel and honeysuckle blooms smelled wonderful. The Azaleas lit up the floor of the path with bright flowers and Indian brush and Ivy provided a varying shade of colors. Huckleberry bushes lined the path with an occasional gooseberry bush. As they walked they talked about a planned hunting trip to get some deer meat put up. Suddenly they heard Leonard whistle. They found a path down toward the creek and followed it down as Fred returned a loud whistle. As they approached the bottom of the hill to the creek bed, they saw Leonard and Robert crouched behind a bush. They came alongside and Leonard pointed across the creek at the clearing surrounding the Patterson place. "Daddy, there's our hog tied to the corner fence post." I'll go git it" said Robert. "No," said Sherman, "we will talk to the man." As they stepped on stones to cross Diamond Creek, a man came out on the porch of the house and leaned against a support post by the stairs. When they got closer, he called out, "What do you want?" Sherman replied, " We came to get our hog. Thank you for catching him." As they got closer, they recognized the man as Wisdom Patterson. Patterson said "I am keeping the hog. He has rutted around my garden and caused damage." "No," replied Sherman you are not keeping the hog. That is our winter meat. I will pay you for any damage but the hog is coming with us." "Y'all are talking mighty big but you are all in a bunch." "We have been searching for the hog. There is no reason for trouble. If the hog caused damage we will pay but the hog is leaving with us." "Dammed right," said Leonard and started toward the tied hog with his rope. Patterson turned his head and called toward the door. "Boy, bring my gun out here." A small boy opened the door and leaned a shotgun up against the door frame. Patterson stepped down onto the first step of the stairs and said, "You fellers go on back home now and there won't be any trouble. Leonard reached inside the side pocket of his overalls and pulled out his Old Timer's knife and started toward the hog. Patterson quickly stepped back on the porch and cradled the shotgun in his arms. "Don't touch that hog" Sherman grabbed Leonard's arm and said, "Come on we are not looking for trouble. Let's go back home." Leonard pulled against Sherman's grip and Sherman stepped in front of him. " You better damn well do what I say. " We will get the hog back" "No, you won't" shouted Patterson." I am going to sell that hog to cover the damages." As Sherman and his boys trailed the creek back toward his house the boys were grumbling. "Who does that son-of-a bitch think he is. We should have kicked his ass, and took our hog. How can he sell our hog? What gives him the right to tie our hog up? " Finally, Sherman stopped. "Look boys I told you we would get the hog and we damn sure will. Now shut up and let's go home and figure this out." What about calling the law" said Fred. "Stealing is against the law." Sherman glared at Fred and said, "We don't need no dam law. The man has stolen our hog and I meant what I said. We handle our own problems here in the hills. You get the law involved and it will only complicate matters." "Then what will we do? , replied Fred. " We will go home get something to eat and figure out what needs to be done," said Sherman and He stepped out on the trail alongside the creek bed toward the house. STAY TUNED FOR PART FOUR....THE RETRIEVAL OF THE HOG