Autumn Fires by Robert Louis Stevenson
(From  A Child’s Garden of Verses, 1885)

In other gardens
And all up the vale
From the autumn bonfires
See the smoke trail!
Pleasant summer over
And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
The gray smoke towers.
Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall!
​
Although October is my favorite month of the year, I seem to have trouble holding on to it. Time seems to take on a new rate of travel this time of year, and before I know it, it’s Halloween and October has passed me by once again.
This year, I am intentionally trying to enjoy October. So far the rainy weekends are keeping me from the fall tasks of cleaning off the garden and putting the flower beds to rest for the winter. But I am doing my best to soak in the signs of the changing seasons: darker mornings, lengthening shadows, and subtly turning colors.
I’ve put a pumpkin on my porch, and set a pot of yellow mums beside it. A minimal decoration, but a purposeful contribution to my awareness of the month! October will not pass by unnoticed this year!

A Deer Story, Part 1July 22, 2016
by Barbara FinneganUntil my family moved to the Shenandoah Valley, we were major-city suburban types. Paved roads, sidewalks everywhere, gutters, and trash and snow removal were just some of the amenities we expected without really paying attention to them. But my grandparents lived “in the country,” so I felt pretty knowledgeable about rural life.
Not long after our move, I was in conversation with a coworker, talking about the upcoming hunting season. She told me her husband loved to hunt, but they had a freezer full of venison and she didn’t want any more. “If he gets a deer this season, do you want it?” she asked.
“That would be great,” I answered enthusiastically. My tone was smooth and casual, but I thought to myself, “Yes! Free meat!” Feeling shrewd and thrifty, I pictured stacks of labeled and neatly wrapped meat in our freezer—and significant savings to our always-stretched grocery budget.
The weeks passed, and the conversation was forgotten, when I received a call at home one crisp fall day. The hunter had bagged a young buck, and it was hanging in a local barn. We could pick it up in a couple of days. Hanging in a barn! Pick it up? The whole thing?
And not only that, but at the end of the call, my friend added, “He’d like to keep the head, so you can just bring that back for him.”
Indeed. I thanked her calmly on the phone before the panic set in.
“Okay, we can do this,” I told myself. Surely our ancestors had done this many times.  Not to worry. So, knowing how important it is to delegate to avoid becoming overwhelmed, I asked my husband to retrieve the deer from the barn. He brought it home in the hatchback of our small car.
Our children gathered ‘round the back of the car and peered at the carcass through the glass. “I think it’s alive, I saw it move,” said one son. “Why are its eyes open—can it see us?” said another. Putting on my cloak of parental calm and assurance, I told them no, it was not alive, and it couldn’t see us. And, for good measure, I told them we were getting our meat just like hunters did in the olden days. They weren’t convinced.
To be continued

Anybody remember those old telephone “party lines?” Some might argue that those first communication channels were better than Twitter and Facebook, and possibly even superior to Instagram (minus the pictures, of course). Pick up the phone at the right time, and you might hear who is visiting whom, who might be cheating on their spouse, lying to the preacher, stealing from the country store or secretly courting the milkman!
The telephone system in Rockingham County had a rather auspicious beginning in – of all places – the tiny town of Bergton. Two young girls, Ada and Pearl Wittig, were the first switchboard operators in the area in the late 1800’s. The first switchboard was located in the Wittig house behind the Bergton Store.
But usually, when folks think about the telephone system in Bergton, they think of Vanny Moyers. Albert Savannah Moyers “Vanny,” was a pioneer in telephone operations. In the early 1900’s, he moved the switchboard to his 200 acre farm some 2500 feet up West Mountain. With the help of some books on electricity and telephony he managed to build – by hand – a stronger, more far-reaching switchboard.
A few years later, in 1905, the Harrisonburg Telephone Company helped to organize the Dovesville Telephone Company. They strung wires from their homes up to the mountain top switchboard, using trees for telephone poles. The first board of directors for the telephone company included: Siram May, L.P.Souder, S.G. Wittig, Michael Fink, Benj. Smith, William Wittig, and John F. Wittig.
The first telephone customers used a magnetic telephone, which held four batteries. They were all on the same party line and could easily listen in on their neighbors’ conversations. Each household with a telephone had a separate ring, with “long” and “short” ringtones. Folks had to listen carefully and count the “longs” and the “shorts” to hear if the phone was ringing for them or for a neighbor
Vanny was the only person in the area who had a radio. He often helped the community stay informed of international and national events by turning on his radio and opening the telephone lines for everybody to hear.
Although communication devices have come a long way since the old party lines, human nature has stayed pretty much the same! We are still interested in the details of our neighbors’ lives—their comings and goings, joys and tragedies. Fortunately, we don’t have to listen in on conversations anymore. We can read it all – and comment on it all — on the latest forms of social media!
Information from Local Lore of the Shenandoah (Cullers/Lilliendahl) and an interview with Kenny May of Bergton

In 1880, a man by the name of . E.D. Root moved to town of Broadway. He had  a head full of bold ideas and a radical plan for developing this growing community. Root established a newspaper in 1888 calledThe Broadway Enterprise. (The town already had a weekly newspaper – Broadway Echo—started by William Grim the previous year. A decade later, yet another newspaper began circulation in Broadway,The Broadway News, published by George Jamison and John Fravel.)
E.D. Root was a man whose vision went far beyond his  publishing career. He was convinced that Broadway had the makings of the “Ideal City.”   In his Prospectus of Virginia Valley Land and Improvement Company of Broadway,” he wrote: “exaggerated statements always work damage to all concerned, therefore, we present the merits of our claims for recognition from men of all classes and all avocations, feeling convinced the course adopted will build our town and make Broadway the leading town of the Shenandoah Valley.”
Root sold stock in the company to enthusiastic buyers. Company officers included representatives from Broadway and from Wall Street in New York.
The prospectus boasted that “Broadway is the nucleus of a coming city of manufacturing and commercial status.” It assured prospective buyers that “…even the most conservative citizens believe Broadway will have from eight to ten thousand (population) before two years go by.”
Root talked of the vast iron, lead and zinc ores, and the abundance of timber in Broadway. He also praised the many successful businesses already established in the town. He noted “one large pottery, one flour mill, one corn and plaster mill, one creamery, one tannery, one lime kiln, five general stores, one drug store, one foundry and machine shop, one broom handle factory, two wagon manufacturers, one sash, blind and door factory, one saddle and harness factory, one barrel factory, two weekly newspapers, one hardware store, one jewelry store, three churches, one school, one Masonic Temple Hall and one opera house.” Root had also made plans to build a grand hotel in the center of town.
There were several factors that contributed to the demise of Root’s dreams. For starters, the city he planned required a vast amount of capital. The “rich resources” he had depended on were not as plentiful as he had hoped. Contrary to his expectations, Wall Street investors did not hurry to the tiny town to buy parcels of land.
Nature also worked against Root. In July of 1884, a cyclone struck Broadway, and in September of the same year, a hurricane swept over the area.
Root finally gave up his dream of the “Ideal City.” Before he left the area entirely, he moved to Harrisonburg and tried running for the Senate as a Republican candidate. When he lost to Democrat S.S. Turner, he took what was left of his finances and moved elsewhere.
The town of Broadway is still not close to Mr. Root’s population estimation of 8,000 – 10,000 residents. Recent annexation and a barrage of building projects have, however, set the town on a path of steady growth. Perhaps Broadway will never become the hub of activity envisioned by that optimistic Northerner, but it seems to be humming along just fine.
(Information from “Regards to Broadway: The Story of an American Town  Cullers and Lilliendahl)

Many little schools dotted the landscape of Fulks Run during the late 1800s and early 1900’s.  The bookLocal Lore of the Shenandoah (Lilliendahl/Cullers) list the following:
The Chimney Rock School was a one-room school built in 1885 at the entrance to Brock’s Gap. The original land for the school was deeded to the Plains District School Board by Sarah Riddle on October 21, 1885. The school probably closed about 1906.
The Extract (Church Mountain) School was one of the shortest lived schools in Rockingham County. The Excelsior Oak Extract Company was a major employer in the Fulks Run area fro the late 1800s to the mid-1920s. The company built this school for the children of its employees. Called the “ooze factory” by local residents, this business, owned by General Roller, extracted a variety of products from the oak trees in the area. Both the plant and the school was located a short distance north of Fulks Run at the base of Church Mountain.
The Fulks Run School was located near Fulks Run on Dry River. The date of the construction of this one-room school is unknown. in 1914, this school was replaced by a two-room school located further south. from 1914 through 1922, the Linville and Plains District Board hired the teachers. The school closed at the end of the 1951-52 school session.
The Genoa School was built in 1919 to repose two older schools in the neighborhood– the Oak Grove School and the Shoemaker School. The 1919 recorded deed states that the land for the Genoa School was purchased from Rev. and Mrs. George Fulk and the Shoemaker family. Records indicate that the Fulks were paid $171.87 for 137.5 “poles” of land. The Shoemakers were paid $50.00 for 16.5 “poles” of land.
Originally known as the Fawley School, the Mt. Pleasant School was deeded to the Plains District School Board by Adam H. Fulk on September 24, 1880. This school served the community until about 1900 when a new school was built on land acquired from William May.

The first mention of the Broadway Pottery was in a document dated 1890, however local historians don’t know much about the pottery before the early 1900’s when a young man named Charles (C.C.) Wood began working there.
Wood enjoyed the pottery business — creating, firing and finishing fine earthenware, but eventually the salary he was able to draw from working there was not enough to support his growing family. He accepted a job at a large pottery in Keyser, West Virginia. While the Wood family was in Keyser, the Broadway Pottery closed.
In 1925, C.C. and his family returned to Broadway, and together with his wife, Lena, and fellow potter, Fred Byford, they formed a corporation and bought the Broadway Pottery. They changed its name to Shenandoah Pottery Company.
About ten years ago, we were able to talk with Harold Wood, C.C.’s son, about what it was like growing up around the kilns and clay. Many of Harold’s earliest memories were centered around the family’s business. He remembered playing around the big kilns and watching the pottery being created. The the main floor of the building held supplies such as silica rock, sand, kaolin clay, fire clay and other minerals. The pottery did not use local clay, but ordered the raw materials elsewhere.
The main floor also held tons of coal needed to run the huge kilns. The kiln temperature had to be exact in order for the pieces to come out without cracks and blemishes. Pieces had to be in the oven for three days in order for the glaze to set properly. After the three day firing period, workers had to wait several days for the large ovens to cool enough to remove the pieces.
All during the firing process, C.C. or one of his employees had to keep the fires burning at an even temperature day and night. They did this by shoveling coal into huge, metal doors located around the base of the kiln.
The Shenandoah Pottery manufactured toilets, sinks, earthenware, porcelain, china, terra cotta, bricks, tiles, pipes and ceramic ware. It also produced glassware, glass ornaments, cut glass and structural glass. The Pottery shipped the finished products by railroad to markets in the northern states.
Unfortunately, the Shenandoah Pottery didn’t survive the economic woes of The Great Depression. Although the pottery has been closed over eight decades, some of the pieces it produced are still collected today.
Information from Local Lore of The Shenandoah (Lilliendahl and Cullers)

The first Post Office in the town of Broadway was established on September 4, 1854. It was officially called “The Broadway Depot,” but it was housed in Beards Store (the former A. W. Whitmore and Sons Grocery Store). John Q. Winfield served as the first postmaster. According to an article in The Daily News Record, annual receipts for the first several years ran under $25.
Women have traditionally played an important role in Broadway’s economic and industrial advancement. Broadway’s first postmistress was Mrs. Lillian Basore in 1869. Mrs. Mary E. Pugh served in 1885, and again in 1893. Miss Sallie W. Pugh began a 10 month term in November, 1917.
In October, 1880, the name was officially changed from Broadway Depot to Broadway Post Office. For unrecorded reasons, the post office was closed from March 8, 1882 until June 15, 1882. It was reestablished after June 15 with John Beard as postmaster.
The Broadway Post Office changed locations several times over the years. Finally, on November 17, 1962, it found a permanent home: a newly constructed building on the corner of Miller and Central Streets.

During the 1930’s, an enterprising young woman named Cora Mason opened a bakery on Main Street. Folks in Broadway loved her fresh bread and rolls so much that she started a local bread delivery service. A brand new 1939 Chevy panel truck took the baked goods as far north as Woodstock and south to Bridgewater.
Some time later, Reuben Dove bought the bakery and turned it into a candy and frozen custard store. Buying penny candy and feasting on cool frozen treats are memories many Broadway folk will carry with them the rest of their lives.
Kids growing up in the early 1950’s talk of taking glass soda bottles to Dove’s store for a cash refund. The money was usually “recycled” right back into the store though, since most of the young entrepreneurs used their profit to buy candy and ice cream.
I have heard countless tales of the idyllic joys of growing up in Broadway in the ‘50’s. Children roamed all over town playing pick up baseball games, swimming in the Linville Creek or just dreaming the day away. Parents never had to worry about the whereabouts of their youngsters.
Perhaps these memories grow fonder with the telling, but there seems to be a lot of truth in this pleasant reminiscing. The world has changed drastically in the past 60 years, and that change has inevitably affected even small towns such as Broadway. But the memories linger, and who knows, maybe on a particularly lazy summer day when the traffic slows and the sun hangs low in the sky, one can hear faint echoes of laughter as those long-ago children discover the latest flavor of frozen custard at Dove’s candy store!

One could not live in the Broadway area long without getting  to know Jr.  and Betty Fitzwater. They were true pillars of the community, and dedicated their lives to helping their neighbors.  Several years before they passed away, I had a chance to spend a Sunday afternoon with the Fitzwaters. I probably gleaned enough information from that visit to write an entire book on their lives, but that’s another project for another day!
Although they were involved in many serious pursuits (such as saving lives and running the town), they also had a fun — and some might say mischievous — side.  In fact, Jr. admitted  always being “up to something!”  One of the events they enjoyed organizing the most was the annual Broadway Firemen’s Parade.
Folks in Broadway never quite know what to expect when they attended the Firemen’s Parade. There was, of course, the traditional bandwagon pulled by a team of horses.  This process was not as simple as it sounds.  They would have to put the wagon wheels in the creek for a week so they would soak up water and swell up  big enough to use. On one occasion, the bandwagon wheels swelled too big to cross the bridge into Broadway. Fortunately, there was time to allow the wheels to dry out and deflate a bit before the day of the parade.
One particular parade in the late 1940’s literally left spectators with their mouths agape. The Grand Marshall of the parade was none other than the famous King of the Bull Whip, Lash Larue!
Sometimes Mother Nature cooperated with the parade, and sometimes she didn’t. Once Jr. had arranged for skydivers to jump from a plane and surprise the spectators. There were surprises that day, but not exactly the ones on the agenda. The wind blew the stuntmen past Broadway, west to Cootes Store. Jr. and Betty had to follow the off-course divers and drive them, unceremoniously, back to town.
Broadway residents still enjoy two parades each year: the Homecoming Parade in October and the Christmas Parade in December. The bands still play (although not from a bandwagon), the floats still dazzle and the fire engines roar, but we would all be pleasantly surprised if, by chance, a rope twirling cowboy or an amazing stuntman would happen to pass by.