Oct 172023
 

Controversy over viewing the Ozarks as a refuge of degenerate primitives has a long history. This symbol of profound rusticity upset promoters and businessmen like John Woodruff but defenders of the premodern Ozarks rushed to defend even the stereotypical hillbilly. On March 27, 1934, The Springfield Leader and Press reprinted highlights of the disastrous meeting of the Springfield Folk Festival advisory committee with Chamber of Commerce leadership. Replying to accusations that they were “advertising to the world that we are ignorant”:

“We are not trying to present freaks or ignoramuses,” the honorable district chairman said. “We are just trying to preserve some of the old, lovely, beautiful, wonderful things that went into the making of the country. I am not ashamed of some of the things my parents did.” “Of course, it does not have to be rough, rowdy, and hoedownish,” the Springfield city chairman said. “Oh, yes it does,” put another leader. “It wouldn’t be the Ozarks if it didn’t.” “You mean we’re not going to have hill billies with beards?”

Taken from James Fork of the White: Transformation of an Ozark River, now on sale for $17.50 (half price) postage paid, at www.beautifulozarks.com

 

Oct 052023
 

Like the pioneer newspaperwoman’s prose, this is well researched and very readable. It’s in the Ozarks Studies Series, edited by Prof. Brooks Blevins. It is footnoted and indexed but does not have an academic tone. The author credits Dr. Blevins encouragement and acknowledges Lynn Morrow for “setting me straight innumerable times.” Morrow also knew and admired Lucile. Newspaperwoman of the Ozarks: The Life and Times of Lucile Morris Upton. Susan Croce Kelly. University of Arkansas Press, Fayetteville. 2023.

by Leland Payton

The Life and Times of Lucile Morris Upton reads the subtitle of Newspaperwoman of the Ozarks, a new book by Susan Croce Kelly. The author knew the pioneering woman journalist. Lucile was her great aunt. It’s much more than a genealogical tribute, though, familiarity with her “bookish family” and small-town background gave insight into Lucille’s rare ability to champion modern technology and at the same time accept the unenlightened behavior of the legendary Ozark hill folk.

Way back when someone was bitten by a dog suspected of having rabies, they would borrow the Morris family’s “madstone”—a small, calcified object found in the gut of a white deer. Backwoods folk believed when this rare object was soaked in warm milk it would draw the “pi-zen” out of the wound. Her literate family knew better but they played along with the superstition. Decades later, when the Springfield business community lit into “hillbilliness” she supported a folk festival which celebrated the old-time ways in her column. The belief Ozark hills and hollows sheltered communities living like our ancestors made good copy and attracted tourists.

Lucile Morris not only wrote hundreds of features covering the atavistic Ozarks, but she also wrote a column for the Springfield News and Leader, “Over the Ozarks,” inviting readers to submit folk songs, legends, and poems. This recognition of the vernacular gave her a large following.

As a child she was enthralled by old timers’ tales of the Civil War and its turbulent aftermath. An outbreak of unsettled scores in the region was covered nationally. Lucile is best known today for her study of the Baldknobbers, the Ozarks’ bloodthirsty post-Civil War vigilantes.

All aspects of the past interested her. The fact that the home of Daniel Boone’s son, Nathan, is a state park and Wilson’s Creek Civil War Battlefield was incorporated into the National Park System is due in large part to her persistent advocacy for their preservation.

Journalists today are often accused of political bias and advocacy in their reporting. Lucile Upton distanced herself from politics or social movements. Susan Kelly notes that although women were once discouraged as newspaper reporters, she was not an active feminist. That her family were all Democrats in a Republican stronghold perhaps made her wary of partisanship. She acknowledged issues had two sides and vigorously pursued objectivity and fairness.

The writer of this biography shares this interest in stories that connect the past with the present. Susan Croce Kelly was once, like Lucile, employed as a reporter by the Springfield News-Leader.  Her book Father of Route 66: The Story of Cy Avery was praised for connecting its subject’s personality and the times in which he lived. That gift of portraying people against a historical backdrop connects the two related writers.

Lucile Morris Upton grasped that the hillbilly was derived from observations of authentic Ozark folk culture. If a pop culture cliché, she didn’t blame the cartoonist, Hollywood, or the media for exploiting this rustic’s popularity. “The public, however, is entitled to know the difference between the genuine and the synthetic,” she believed.

Bald Knobbers, published by Claxton Printers, Caldwell, Idaho. 1939, is a stirring account of vigilante violence in the aftermath of the Civil War. This first edition with graphic dust jacket can go for hundreds of dollars. Lucile interviewed old timers with memories of the night riders who terrorized the White River hills until three Bald Knobbers were hung on the courthouse square in Ozark Missouri in 1889.

Her well-researched book on the Baldknobbers was the first to cover the violent post-Civil War Ozark vigilante. Since that time, numerous accounts have been published, both fiction and nonfiction. Hollywood was interested in making her version into a movie, but World War II redirected their priorities. A recent locally produced movie has been released on DVD. A well-known musical group, The Baldknobbers, have entertained Branson visitors for 60 years.

Lucile worked for years on two unpublished novels. Her characters and locations were praised by editors, but they thought the plots lacked excitement. This is surprising given her vivid account of post-Civil War violence.

On Sept. 7, 2023 Susan Croce Kelly gave a lecture on her new book at the Springfield-Greene County library Center. it was a cut-to-the -chase presentation. Kelly, like her great aunt Lucile Upton, been a journalist of the old school—terse, factual prose without an agenda.

As a native, Lucile had a feeling for the landscape and the people who settled it. She didn’t always share their attachment to primitive ways, but she understood it was a component of their identity.  She disagreed with the modernist, progressive beliefs of Springfield Chamber of Commerce president, John T. Woodruff who underestimated the commerciality of hillbilly-ness as a tourist draw.

Through the many years as a News-Leader reporter, she produced countless features covering every aspect of Ozark folk culture. She covered Thomas Hart Benton, the Herschends, Rose Wilder Lane, the Lynches, Rose O’Neill, Otto Earnest Rayburn, and Harold Bell Wright. She reviewed Vance Randolph’s books but they had an “on again, off again” relationship as Susan Kelly put it.

 

 

                                     Susan Croce Kelly signs a book for
Crystal Payton after her Springfield Library talk.

 

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Sep 172023
 

These attractive maps promoting rusticated leisure near Springfield were designed by Paul Holland.

Paul Holland was the owner of Holland Engraving Company and a weekend painter active in the Ozarks’ Artists Guild in the 1930s. Holland was a lifelong defender of the Ozarks as a fit subject for art. “Ozarks Treat Artists Better” read the title of a July 25, 1930 Springfield Leader article about Holland’s misadventures going back east to paint that landscape. Not only was he unimpressed by the art he viewed, but he also found the landowners inhospitable:

After a three-week survey of the situation, Paul Holland, “hillbilly artist” and leader in the Ozarks Artists Guild, has returned from a tour through New England and southeastern Canada more convinced than ever that the Ozarks offers to artists “all the advantages and none of the disadvantages” of the east. “‘The natives,’ he said, ‘seem averse to having sketchers on their land, and even the docks, and virtually all homes are posted ‘no trespassing.’”

This painting and five others by Paul Holland, as  well as the maps, from our collection are now with Missouri State Libraries-Ozark Studies Institute. Read more about the collection here

Oil painting by Paul Holland titled “Ozark Village.” View of Branson’s downtown from Presbyterian Hill across Lake Taneycomo.

 

Aug 272023
 

Real photo postcard, 1920s, Ozark, Missouri. Wooden covered bridges were never common and very few survive. Iron bridges were abundant and with maintenance, many remain in use today.

The logo of the City of Ozark features the 1922 iron bridge under which flows the Finley River and the motto of the growing community is “Bridging strong tradition with bright futures.”

The flood of July 9, 1909 was the greatest on record (although records may be updated when the floods of the last few years are counted). Soon after this photograph was taken the covered bridge floated off its piers and crashed into the railroad bridge visible downstream.

The Christian County court advertised for bids for a replacement just five days after it washed away. That month they contracted with the Canton (Ohio) Bridge Company to build a metal span for $3,648.

Covered bridges evoke the past even more than old metal truss bridges. The popular belief that they were constructed to keep from spooking horses may have some validity, but primarily their enclosure was to protect the wood trusses from the elements. Few have survived anyway. Only four remain in Missouri.

Taken from James Fork of the White: Transformation of an Ozark River, now on sale for $17.50 (half price) postage paid, at www.beautifulozarks.com

Aug 192023
 

Water driven mills were a necessity in isolated Ozark valleys. They were a community gathering place and Ozarkers are enormously nostalgic about these symbols of frontier (or near frontier) subsistence lifestyle. Few are left.  Floods took out many and they were not maintained after being abandoned when improved transportation delivered commercially ground flour.

Had the son of the owner of the watermill at Hurley, Missouri, been more careful with his brush fire, we could have photographed an early and conventionally nostalgic rural relic. The rambling three-story, crudely built, added-on, and deteriorating structure built in 1892 was being restored when it burned to ashes on April 3, 2005. The site today consists of a few fire-scorched and rusty pieces of machinery set among some foundation stones. Invasive weeds and sumac are already being replaced by trees. In another decade finding any evidence there was ever a historic mill here will require archaeology

There was a time in the 1920s and ’30s when the railroad brought opportunity to this village five miles east of Crane. A 1927 Stone County booklet pronounced with only a little puffery:

Hurley is said to be the most mutual, cooperative and moral town in Stone County. It is a small town on the Missouri Pacific between Crane and Springfield and surrounded by very fertile, productive land, and it claims proportionally, the largest trade of any town in the county. A stream of clear spring water runs through the center of the town sufficient to grind out the best flour, meal and feed; and the pretty homes and streets are all clean and the inhabitants healthy.

Mary Scott Hair, a cousin of Dewey Short, wrote a paid column beginning in 1948 under the pen name “Samanthy” for the Crane Chronicle recording the life and times of Hurleyites. Her father had once owned the Spring Creek Mill, and she and her husband and daughter worked a small farm nearby. In a 1982 interview printed in Bittersweet she summed up her life: “I have lived in Hurley all my life and I probably won’t live anywhere else. I am rooted and grounded in Hurley. My younger days were Hurley’s best days. Sometime I wonder whether or not it was all make believe.”

Taken from James Fork of the White: Transformation of an Ozark River, now on sale for $17.50 (half price) postage paid, at www.beautifulozarks.com

Aug 122023
 

John T. Woodruff: progressive president of the Springfield Chamber of Commerce.

Woodruff had thousands of copies of “The Ozark Empire Magazine” distributed at the 1933 Century of Progress Exposition in Chicago. It mentions the region’s good fishing but said its rivers could be “harnessed for power development.” The stage was set for a battle between the Chamber’s vision of modernity and the romantics and folklorists. As May Kennedy McCord (Queen of the Hillbillies) wrote “I am tired of manmade wonders.”

John Thomas Woodruff, like John Polk Campbell, Springfield’s original booster, was dedicated to growing his town by improving transportation. He is locally considered the father of Route 66. Woodruff came to Springfield as a lawyer for the Frisco Railroad, built half a dozen important buildings, and tirelessly promoted the city.  Both men sought to alter the White River to make it commercially useful. Campbell pulled snags to improve it for steamboats. Woodruff lobbied successfully for high dams that would transform the free-flowing river into reservoirs.
                                                                                                                 James Fork of the White, p. 139

In 2016, Tom Peters, Dean of Library Services for Missouri State University, published “an encyclopedic biography” of the civic-minded entrepreneur. Although history has bestowed the official moniker, Father of Route 66, on Cyrus Avery of Tulsa, John T. Woodruff was one of the movers behind the designation of that highway. He was among the group of highway advocates and engineers at the Colonial Hotel in Springfield, August 30, 1926, that sent a telegram to Washington accepting the number 66 assigned to a federal highway from Chicago to Los Angeles. Because of that designation, today Springfield boasts the “birthplace” tag and annually hosts the “Birthplace of Route 66 Festival.”

Lesser known is the fact Woodruff also became the first president of the U.S. 66 Highway Association.

James Fork of the White: Transformation of an Ozark River, now on sale for $17.50 (half price) postage paid, at www.beautifulozarks.com

John T. Woodruff, An Encyclopedic Biography is available at the History Museum on the Square in Springfield, the PawPrints Bookstore in Plaster Student Union on the campus of Missouri State University, at the Rail Haven Motel in Springfield, or directly from the publisher.

Nov 092022
 

Press photo, May 9, 1938, showing Congressman Short, Rep. Dudley White and their wives at a DC barn dance.

Dewey Short was “an avowed Hill-Billy.” Neither he nor renowned folklorist Vance Randolph ever disavowed the term. Unlike the transplanted Kansas folklorist, the educated congressman was an Ozark native. Like politicians from Andrew Jackson on, he exploited his backwoods credentials. The cutline of this press photo, “Chicken and Fixin’s YUM YUM,” notes they were dressed in “approved rustic styles” at a D.C. barn dance. Galena’s famous son alternately postured as an Oxford schooled philosophy professor and a Stone County hillbilly. And he was both.

Born in Galena to a family of 10 children, he served in the infantry in World War I, then graduating from Baker University in 1919 and from Boston University in 1922. Short also attended Harvard University, Heidelberg University, the University of Berlin, and Oxford University. Dewey rose to national prominence as the Representative of Missouri’s 7th congressional district.

In 1942, the St.  Louis Star and Times sent a reporter down to Galena to find out, “Just who is Dewey Short, this 44-year-old, one-man hillbilly band from the Ozarks, who has been elected for four straight terms in Congress from the Seventh District in Southwest Missouri?”  Encountering Jackson Short, Dewey’s father, the reporter “came to the right place.”  Writer Ralph S. O’Leary noted that “the oratorical gifts” for which Dewey Short was noted came from his father, “who talks fluently and decisively.” Dewey’s own speechmaking talents earned him the moniker, “Orator of the Ozarks.”

 

From James Fork of the White: Transformation of an Ozark River, 352 pages with more than 400 color illustrations. Lens & Pen Press is having a half-price sale for all titles. James Fork is now available on our website at www.dammingtheosage.com for $17.50 (half the original price of $35), postage paid.

 

Jun 082022
 

The idea the Ozarks is inhabited by primitives has been perpetuated in books by educated travelers like Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, in popular songs like the “Arkansaw Traveler,” and in souvenir postcards, like this one by otherwise-respected photographer George Hall.

We have incorporated many quotes by Lynn Morrow in our books. This paragraph from Shepherd of the Hills County: Tourism Transforms the Ozarks, 18802-1930s by Lynn Morrow and Linda Meyers-Phinney, so perfectly describes this posed photograph that we use it in its entirety. The book exquisitely describes the romanticism and sentimentality that pervaded early Ozark tourism. Like Mark Twain, the authors debunk popular culture without dismissing the people who embraced its mythologies.

Morrow and Meyers-Phinney reproduced the Hall postcard, captioning it, “Commercial stereotyping using the Arkansaw Traveler story.”

Twentieth century Arcadians came to the White River expecting to see rustics whom the national press labelled as hillbillies, since journalists and tourists had used the term from the very beginning of commercial tourism. Ozarkers quickly learned to cash in on the demeaning hillbilly image. If the tourists wanted to see hillbillies, then hillbillies made their appearances. Float-fishing guides were model hillbillies at the gravel bar camps, telling tall tales and manipulating their Mid-South dialect for the enjoyment of sportsmen; locals at resorts and the legendary sites of Harold Bell Wright’s novel took up the challenge of dramatizing the hillbilly stereotype for visitors.

As we found in the gift shop of the Shepherd of the Hills Ziprider Canopy Tours tower, the practice continues:

Lens & Pen Press is having a half-price sale for all titles. James Fork, Damming the Osage, Mystery of the Irish Wilderness and others are now available on our website at www.dammingtheosage.com for half the original price, postage paid.

May 122022
 

Robert Page Lincoln profiled Charley Barnes, James River guide and john boat builder, in a long article titled “Floating Down the River” in the March 1948 issue of Fur-Fish-Game magazine.

The caption from the 1948 article reads, “This photo of Charley Barnes and his two brothers, Herbert and John, was taken in 1909 about the time that the Barnes float trip business at Galena, Mo., was at the height of its success. Barnes told Lincoln that the bass shown in this photo are the same average size as those taken now. Reading left to right are Herbert, John, and Charley Barnes.”

Charley later developed a distaste for trophy photos. Fishermen would keep more fish than they could eat to take an impressive picture. All the early river guides were supporters of the conservation movement and fish and game laws as they viewed the protection of natural resources to be in their business interests and encouraged an early form of catch-and-release.

Barnes was born near Mount Vernon in 1878. The family moved to a farm near the James three miles from Galena when he was eight. He and his brothers spent much time fishing this historic river and their catches were such that Barnes conceived of the idea of making boats and taking out fishing parties. At the age of 26, in 1904 Barnes started taking out his first parties.

Though his big city customers may have considered Barnes a “hillbilly” – he not only built the john boats they floated in, but with his brother he also owned the Galena Ford agency.

 

Lens & Pen Press is having a half-price sale for all titles. James Fork of the White, Damming the Osage, Mystery of the Irish Wilderness and other titlesall are now available on our website at www.dammingtheosage.com for half the original price, postage paid.

Apr 132022
 

Real photo postcard, by Fox. 1923

The L.B. Price Mercantile Company was incorporated 18 February 1898 and almost made it to 100 years, being dissolved in 1993. In its heyday it was a “great business house,” whose main offices and storerooms were at 13th and McGee in Kansas City. According to an undated (but likely early 1900s) article in the Kansas City Star profiling the firm, L.B. Price had retail stores selling “household specialties” across the southeast and into the Midwest and employed more than 600 people.

This 1923 photo most likely shows men of the company’s management. A short bio of L. B. Price called him one of Kansas City’s “millionaire merchants.” We speculated in James Fork of the White (p. 249) that the large, relaxed group might have been traveling salesman (then called drummers). However, the article lauded the company for annually bringing its managers from around the country to Kansas City to report on their year and plan the future.  Considering that, it’s more likely that this “largest ever” James River float trip might have been a reward to managers for a successful year of sales.

Urban clientele like this were no doubt entertained by the tall tales and witticisms of the colorful local guides. Doubtlessly the businessmen referred to them as hillbillies, but not in a derogatory fashion.

 

From James Fork of the White: Transformation of an Ozark River, 352 pages with more than 400 color illustrations, which examines the entire watershed of the famed Ozark float stream, a tributary of the White River. Lens & Pen Press is having a half-price sale for all titles. James Fork of the White is now available on our website at www.dammingtheosage.com for $17.50 (half the original price of $35), postage paid.