Rye Valley History

Author: Admin

First Baptist Church Of Sugar Grove

First Baptist Church Of Sugar Grove

This article is being published in memory of Nancy Ann Purefoy 10/26/1933 – 3/26/2025 This beautiful little church house dates back to 1915 in the community of Sugar Grove. Records found at Smyth County Courthouse reflect March 10, 1915, a deed was made by Chaley Barber and his wife Alice to Andrew White Walter Stuart and A. F. Wilson who were both named as trustees. The sum of money exchanged to execute this deed was $30. This deed was made with specific restrictions that read “…said lot to be used for building a church house and not for any other purpose. Said church to be known as Shugar Grove Missionary Babtis Church- colored.” James Purefoy provided the following information and photo about the church on the Rye Valley History Group: This was the First Baptist Church in Sugar Grove, Va. It was the African American Church in the area.I can remember attending all day services there as a child. My mother, Nancy Lee Purefoy, attended there as a child. Her father, my grandfather, Fred Lee was a deacon there. My grandmother, Cleo Lee, was a deaconess. Some of the names of other people that attended were Barbers, Stuarts, Lees, Goins, Madisons, Thompsons, and Murrells. There were others that I cannot mention. This information was provided by my mother Nancy Lee Purefoy. Services continued at this church into the early 2000s. David Rutherford, then employed by Rye Valley Water Authority, shared the following about the property: When Rye Valley Water Authority was getting easements for new water line I traced the deeds back to try to find a signatory for the church property. Ended up getting Mrs. Cleo Lee to sign. Great Lady. The deeds referred to it being in the “colored section of Sugar Grove”. The details in the deed made it sound like the area was from the church back to where Gene Ross now lives out to Flat Ridge Road and back to Quarter Branch Road.   (2022-2024) The building collapsed under a heavy snow. The photo at left was what remained of this beautiful little church as of 2024. The church is shown on a 1935 Quadrangle map by location only, no name. Also on that same map, just down the road near the Quarter Branch and Flat Ridge Fork on the opposite side is another church labeled as “Union Ch.”  It is speculated that this could have served as the Sugar Grove Negro School up until the early 40s. The Sugar Grove Negro School is documented by Evelyn Thompson Lawrence in a book available about all of the Colored Schools in the county that can be found in the Heritage Room at the Smyth County Public Library in Marion, VA however, it does not mention any specific location where this school was located.         *If you have additional information to add about this church, please comment or use the contact form. We would love to add additional information.

Barbers, Black History, Churches, Communities, First Baptist Church Of Sugar Grove, Goins, Lee, Madison, Murrell, Purefoy, Stuart, Sugar Grove, Thompson

Teas History & William H. Teas

Teas History & William H. Teas

More than 100 years ago, the community of Teas was established and emerged. May 10, 1910, a charter was granted to the Marion Extract Company of not less than $300k and not more than $600k.  The officers named on this charter were W.H. Teas of Ridgeway, PA, President and E.M. Campbell also of Ridgeway PA, Vice President. Also J.C. Campbell of Marion was named Secretary and Treasurer. Within a few days of this charter, the company purchased land in Rye Valley which was located along the line of the Marion Rye Valley Railroad. This was designated to be used for the new extract plant that would soon dominate the area.  It would be one of the largest of its kind.  Read more about the Teas Extract Plant here. The extract plant was expected to be in full operation by January 1, 1911. It would employ more than 100 men on startup. Teas was named for William Holmes Teas (1876-1930). Mr. Teas built a spacious home near the extract plant he would oversee which is still standing today. He was born in Patterson, NJ to the Reverend John Teas and Elizabeth M. Holmes-Teas and was a graduate of Penn State College. His father was pastor of a United Presbyterian church. He worked in and around Philadelphia for a while after graduating college until he met his wife, Margaret Hoblitzell.   He later established the offices of the Marion Extract Company and then following that, the extract plant and the town of Teas.  The family spent about 5 years in the area and were well known. They had 3 boys.  In the photo shown, you see the home that Mr. Teas built. It was later the home of G. H. Wilson and family. (shown in photo). The Teas Extract Plant proved to be very profitable in the area and brought jobs to many. It also brought many people to the area and created a need for company housing, a couple of stores, a school and all of the community events and activities that come along with an influx of people.  Teas School operated until approximately 1957 according to most. The Teas Family relocated to a home along the Chesapeake Bay where he passed away from a brief illness of influenza which turned into bronchial pneumonia on April 28, 1935.  Mrs. Teas then made her home in Nashville, TN where the principal factory was then located.  William Teas was interred in the West Laurel Cemetery in Philadelphia.  A brief service was described in their home in Sharspoint which is near Annapolis, MD.   Services were conducted at the Blair Funeral Parlors where services were conducted jointly by Dr. Goodridge Wilson of Marion, VA and Dr. Johnson, Rector of  Old St. Anne’s Episcopal Church in Annapolis The Teas Community prospered until  production slowed; most of the chestnut trees were gone from which they used for extraction by 1930. The extract plant was eventually vacant. The company housing disappeared one by one, stores closed, the post office closed and those people then used the one at nearby Sugar Grove. Once a booming little industry town, it gradually became the quiet little suburb of Sugar Grove we have today, retaining its name.    

Communities, Extract Plant, History, Industry, Teas

Sugar Grove Fiddlers Convention at Highlands Park

Sugar Grove Fiddlers Convention at Highlands Park

The Sugar Grove Fiddlers Convention first began in the early 70s and was hosted by the Sugar Grove Fire Department.  This event was set up on the ball field at Sugar Grove School for a number of years and featured musical entertainment from all around. At one point, Bonnie Raitt performed in Sugar Grove prior to becoming widely known and going mainstream. This has been confirmed by at least 3 individuals who were in attendance. She was also confirmed in the area as close as Galax during that same time. The Fire Department provided food and drinks at this time and benefited from the proceeds.  At some point during the 1970s, this event was moved to a new location owned by the Medley Family at Cedar Springs. It is not completely clear why the event had a change of venue but several have suggested it was because upgrades were offered at the new location to accommodate more people and more popular performers. Additionally, alcohol and a broader variety of concessions could be brought in at a location off school property. This location became known as Highlands Park and from that point forward, the event was then known as The Sugar Grove Fiddlers Convention at Highlands Park. This venue consisted of a covered stage area, lighting, sound equipment and a more professional entertainment setting that was better equipped to accommodate performers as well as the audience.  This event routinely drew at least a thousand or more people and became very popular. The Sugar Grove Fire Department continued to cater the event providing food and drinks as a fundraiser for their organization and the event grew steadily until the summer of 1977. (Photo of original shirt contributed by Michael Osborne) July 1977 Incident at the Sugar Grove Fiddlers Convention The Sugar Grove Fiddlers Convention was in full swing on a hot summer July weekend, more than one thousand people were in attendance according to Smyth County News. A disturbance was noted mid-day between two individuals who were arguing but that seemed to subside without further incident. The musical entertainment continued into the evening. Just after 11 PM, a single gunshot suddenly rang out. Everything suddenly came to a screeching halt. Chaos ensued as attendees became aware that someone had been shot among them. The newspaper confirmed this along with the following information:  “A Smyth County man was shot in the face Saturday night as he sat in front of the band box at the fiddlers convention.”  The article goes on to identify the victim as Charles Peake, 34,  of Sugar Grove and reads “Witnesses said a man walked up behind Peake, stuck a pistol in his mouth and puled the trigger.” Peake escaped certain death from the gunshot when he jerked his head causing the bullet to pass through his lip and exit out the side of his face. Miraculously no one else was hit or harmed. He was treated at the hospital for minor injuries and released. Witnesses confirmed the man identified as the shooter was the same man who had been seen arguing with Peake earlier in the day. Both men were initially arrested in relation to the incident. Noel Bain Johnson was charged with “unlawfully and felonously using a firearm in the commission of a felony” according to the Smyth County News and Smyth County Sheriff’s Department.  Johnson was picked up by Smyth County Sheriff’s Department,  and booked at 9:45 PM Sunday July 10th and was released on $25,000 bond. Common Law Order Book 23, Page 477 available at the Smyth County Courthouse reflects a jury indictment as follows: “Noel Bain Johnson- using a pistol in attempt to murder- a True Bill.” and ” Malicious wounding – a True Bill”  signed and entered by Judge J. Aubrey Matthews, August 23, 1977. This marked the end of an era and series of entertainment events for Sugar Grove. Other Little Stories and Interesting Things The day after the event, the Millers would all go to Highlands Park and take along some neighborhood kids and black trash bags to pick up trash and clean the grounds. They earned money for every full bag of trash collected. If you have additional details to add to this topic, please use the Contact page and let us know!  Articles are always open for updates and additional content, photos or information.    

Cedar Springs, Sugar Grove

Urban Legends: Octagon House Hauntings

Urban Legends: Octagon House Hauntings

DISCLAIMER: 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 multiple urban legends. 𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗄𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗆𝗒𝗍𝗁, 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗌. 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗅𝖾  𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌. There are several urban legend-like stories that have been around for decades surrounding the Octagon House. These tales have almost become a part of local culture, at least with people of a certain age group. Let’s explore some of these tales. We have an actual brief history of the Octagon House HERE if you would like to read about the factual history before you embark upon the local stories. Abijah’s Ghost Walk On December 1st, it is said that the ghost of Abijah Thomas appears at dusk as an eerie blue-white glow, moving between the remains of his beloved octagonal house, Mountainview, and the Thomas family cemetery just up the hill, where his grave is located. It is believed that he returns on the anniversary of his unexpected death to check on his cherished home. The sightings are not interactive, and all reports suggest that this is a residual haunting rather than an active one. This ghost story is perhaps one of the longest standing stories to be passed around locally. The Cellar The cellar is often regarded as the most haunted spot on the property and is the focal point of numerous tales of malevolent paranormal encounters. It is said to have been the site where slaves were beaten for failing to perform their work properly. Various versions of the story have circulated, but the most widely known claims that if you stand on the ground behind the house, where the cellar once was, after sunset, you will be confronted by an evil spirit that demands you leave the property. Those who do not heed the warning may suffer physical harm. Other accounts suggest that visitors can hear the anguished screams of those who died on the property, emanating from this mysterious cellar. This version also ends with the evil spirit confronting those present, urging them to depart. Some people feel compelled to bring a rosary, crucifix, or other spiritual items for protection if they dare to visit the location. It is factually known that there was no evidence of a cellar found anywhere around the house and specifically not at the rear of the house near the back door as most of these tales indicate.  Additionally, according to various local historical sources, many of the slaves who were owned by Abijah Thomas remained there after slavery was abolished following the Civil War and done so because they were treated well by the family. The Dark Room The dark room was another area on the property known for paranormal activity. Located on the second floor at the top of the stairs, it was centrally situated in the house. The room had no windows and only one door. Popular stories about it included rattling chains, eerie screams, slamming locking doors and blood stains on the floor and walls. It was said to have been a place where slaves, and sometimes even the Thomas children, were punished—locked away for long periods without food. Given its location on the second floor, attempting to access the room, especially in the dark, would have been dangerous—particularly during the time when people dared to enter the house after it had been condemned. The room itself was oddly sized, making it suitable for storage as it was intended.  While no blood stains were found on the remaining white plaster walls, there were dark stains on the floorboards. However, it was determined these were not blood stains, but rather food stains from canned goods that had either broken or spoiled, leaving the dark stains. Priscilla Thompson, the daughter of Abijah Thomas, clarified in writing that the room had always been used for storage and that no one was ever punished there. She also mentioned that when the door was open, enough light came through to see whatever one was looking for in the room. This writing was reproduced in the article about the octagon house. The Ghost Who Threw People Out the Window As early as the late 1990s, a popular story began circulating about an especially angry spirit said to haunt the Octagon House. The tale was linked to a broken window on the second floor at the back of the house. A particularly jagged shard of glass remained hanging in the window frame, having not fallen out. According to the story, the spirit that haunted the second floor and guarded the dark room was so enraged by a trespasser who could not be convinced to leave, that it hurled them out of the window, throwing them from the second story with an unseen force, effectively ejecting them from the house. This became a widely circulated tale, often used to warn people to stay away from the second floor. While there are no verified reports of anyone actually being thrown out of a second-story window, countless stories have been passed down through the years about people—mostly young adults—visiting the property as a sort of rite of passage. Many went there in groups for a thrill, to get scared, or to drink and smoke pot. It’s possible that someone could have fallen out of the window, though it likely went unreported, possibly to avoid trespassing charges or other consequences. The Sign Of The Cross This story dates back to 2002. One evening, a group of high school students from Marion, along with a few from Sugar Grove, decided to visit the Octagon House just before sunset. Their goal was to explore the house and see if the rumors about it being haunted were true. They even considered holding a séance to see if they could provoke any paranormal activity. To avoid getting caught, they arranged for a friend to drop them off,…

Stories, Thomas, Thomas Bridge

Abijah Thomas and Holston Mills

Abijah Thomas and Holston Mills

The Rise and Fall of Holston Mills: A Historic Textile Town In 1844, industrialist Abijah Thomas made a significant investment in a 344-acre tract of land, complete with a sawmill and grist mill, in what would later become the town of Holston Mills. This land was nestled within a growing area that would become the heart of a bustling industrial hub during the 19th century. By the early 1860s, Thomas, along with a business partner, founded the Holston Woolen Factory, marking the beginning of the town’s rise as a textile center. The Holston Woolen Factory became a major producer of textiles, particularly wool, and played an integral role in the local economy. The village that grew around the factory adopted the name Holston Mills, a nod to the success and importance of the textile mill in the region. The town’s growth was not limited to the mill itself; as the factory flourished, so did the surrounding community. Residential areas, shops, and services began to spring up, creating a vibrant, self-sustaining village. The Impact of the Civil War During the American Civil War, Holston Mills found itself at the center of wartime industry. The village became the site of Co. A of the 23rd Battalion of the Virginia Infantry, and the woolen mill played a crucial role in supporting the Confederate war effort. The factory produced textiles for Confederate uniforms, contributing to the logistical needs of the Southern army. This connection to the war effort highlighted the strategic significance of Holston Mills, not just as a community, but as an essential manufacturing hub during one of the most tumultuous periods in American history. However, following the end of the Civil War, the mill and the town faced challenges. The industry was left dormant for a time, and the post-war years proved difficult for many Southern communities, as they struggled to recover from the destruction of the war. But Holston Mills would not remain stagnant for long. A New Era of Prosperity In the years following the Civil War, the Holston Woolen Factory saw a revival. In 1875, new ownership took over the mill, marking the beginning of a period of renewed prosperity for the town. With fresh investment, the mill, now known as Holstein Woolen Mills, began to expand once again. This resurgence allowed Holston Mills to grow into a fully developed village, with a school, shops, a post office, and a telegraph office. The mill and the infrastructure surrounding it helped solidify the town’s status as a thriving industrial community in the late 19th century. The new owners were instrumental in modernizing operations at Holstein Woolen Mills, ensuring that it remained competitive in a rapidly changing industry. As the town’s population grew, so did the demand for services, and Holston Mills became an attractive place for workers and families looking for employment opportunities in the textile industry. The Decline of Holston Mills However, as with many industrial towns, the fortunes of Holston Mills would eventually shift. In the early 1890s, Holstein Woolen Mills relocated to Salem, marking the beginning of the village’s decline. Without the mill as the central driving force of its economy, the town began to lose its former vibrancy. The population dwindled as people moved away in search of new opportunities, and the shops, post office, and other services that had once been vital to the community fell into disuse. Over time, Holston Mills was abandoned, and what had once been a bustling industrial village gradually disappeared. Today, little remains of the once-thriving town, but its legacy as an important part of the 19th-century textile industry lives on. The rise and fall of Holston Mills serves as a reminder of the rapid changes that can occur in industrial communities, and the impact that one mill can have on the development of a town. Holston Mills may no longer be a vibrant community, but its history stands as an important chapter in the story of America’s industrial past, illustrating both the opportunities and challenges that came with the growth of the textile industry in the 19th century. The location is on Red Stone Road, north of Old Mill Road/South Fork Road (County Routes 648/650). When traveling north, it will be on the right-hand side.  A historical marker is located at or near 2107 Red Stone Rd, Marion, VA 24354, United States.

Adwolfe, Black History, Communities, Holston Mills, Industry, Thomas Bridge

The Abijah Thomas Octagon House

The Abijah Thomas Octagon House

Abijah Thomas was born on May 21, 1814, in what was then Washington County, later part of Smyth County when it was formed in 1832. He was the son of Thomas Thomas and grandson of John Thomas. At the time of his birth, the United States was still in its infancy, with only 18 states in the union, James Madison serving as the 4th president, and the War of 1812 just concluded. That year also marked the establishment of Francis Cabot Lowell’s textile mill in Massachusetts, which would later inspire Abijah’s own textile operations in Southwest Virginia. Raised in a farming family, Abijah’s father and grandfather had worked the land, but the region was rapidly industrializing, embracing manpower, water power, and horse power. Abijah adapted to this change, becoming a manufacturer of iron, textiles, and leather goods. His father, Thomas Thomas, held several significant roles in the community, including Justice of Washington County in 1806, overseer of roads in 1819, and Sheriff of Washington County in 1831-32. He also carried the title of “Esquire,” reflecting his high social standing. In 1795, a land survey granted John Thomas 230 acres along the South Fork of the Holston River, where he established a grist mill and sawmill. This same land would later become the site of Holston Mills, one of Smyth County’s first industries, founded by Abijah around 1860. Abijah’s father married Freelove Cole, daughter of Joseph and Remember Cole, early settlers from New York. She is credited with naming Marion, the county seat, in honor of Revolutionary War hero Francis Marion, the Swamp Fox,  during a conversation at the Thomas home in 1832 during a visit from a commissioner. Abijah grew up on the farm, learning traditional skills like hunting, fishing, blacksmithing, and tanning animal hides. He attended a private school in Wythe County, learning reading, writing, and arithmetic, and later became a skilled carpenter and surveyor. Notably, he was one of the few to subscribe to a newspaper, which he would read aloud to neighbors. Abijah also built the first threshing machine in Smyth County and operated several iron furnaces and Holston Mills. When Smyth County was formed in 1832, Thomas Thomas and William Porter, Abijah’s brother-in-law, became justices of the new county. Abijah married Priscilla Cavinette Scott in 1836 in a ceremony performed at her parents’ home by Reverend Robertson Gannaway. At 22, Abijah and his 16-year-old bride set up their first home in a log cabin on the Thomas farm, near the site of the later famous Octagon House. Abijah owned slaves, and Priscilla managed the household, training servants, educating children, and caring for the servants, providing for their well-being, including sewing clothes and supplying bedding, blankets and quilts as needed. In 1856-57, Abijah constructed the Octagon House, also known as Mountainview, a striking and unusual architectural feat in the region. Built with the help of skilled carpenters, brick masons, and slaves, the house was inspired by Orson Squire Fowler’s octagonal designs and was the only one of its kind in Southwest Virginia before the Civil War. The home featured innovative design elements like triangular spaces used for closets and custom-shaped corner bricks. Built on a 10×10 central beam, the home sat on limestone hauled from an unknown quarry, with materials crafted on-site. It boasted 17 rooms and an intricate roof structure to support shingles and metal coverings. The Octagon House reflected a national “octagon fad,” inspired by Fowler’s own 1853 construction in New York. Some suggested that Abijah chose the design to ward off wind or to avoid being trapped in a corner by the Devil, while others thought he believed in the octagon’s superior qualities. The house’s 16-foot thick walls rose 22 feet to the roofline, with 32 windows providing natural light. A porch ran along the three front sides, and a second-floor promenade deck was accessible from the second-floor doors. The interior had a spacious layout with 8 rooms on the first floor, including a parlor with pink marbleized plaster and a chandelier, a family room with built-in storage, and a winter kitchen. Upstairs, there were bedrooms, including the Thomas girls’ rooms, a master bedroom, and the infamous “dark room,” used for storage, not punishment as urban legends suggest. The Dark Room is located in the center of the 2nd floor of the Octagon House and therefore has no windows or natural light. It has been the subject of many a horrific tale and has become an urban legend over the years. This room measures 15’ 8” x 8’ 1” and was factually used for storage of food and other items in the Thomas house.  Some information can be found in a 1940 writing of Priscilla C Thompson, Abijah’s daughter which reads: The dark room upstairs was used as a store room, a catch-all for cotton bats, patent office reports, Congress records, etc.  When the door into the upstairs hall was open, the room was sufficiently light to find anything wanted. The idea of my father using this room as a jail to punish any one of the children is all a myth. Urban legends tell a more horrific story of a haunted “slave house” where the owner used the dark room to whip and punish slaves and also lock up his own children as punishment. The size of the room wouldn’t be adequate for this as well as the fact that it is located on the 2nd floor making it not readily accessible for these purposes. Furthermore, the dark stains on the floor said to be blood stains are factually food stains from canned food that broke or spoiled after bring stored there long after the civil war and abolishment of slavery. The white plaster walls do not reflect any such stains. Abijah Thomas was said to treat his servants well contrary to urban legend. Upon close examination of the brick in the Octagon house, you can find the remaining fingerprints of the slave children who formed the bricks that were used in…

Black History, Families, Holston Mills, Homes, Industry, Slavery, Thomas, Thomas Bridge

The Wreck of the Number 9- A Day In The History of the Marion Rye Valley Railroad

The Wreck of the Number 9- A Day In The History of the Marion Rye Valley Railroad

September 10, 1912 began like most other days, the crew boarded a boxcar coupled to the #9 Shay in Fariwood and headed up to their work site on Pine Mountain.  Kent Steffey was a seasoned 45-year-old engineer, respected for his skill and experience. A proud member of the Brotherhood of Engineers Union, and a native of Wythe County who had relocated  along with his wife to Wilson Creek, Grayson County.  Steffey worked for Spruce Lumber Company. He was known for his dedication to his work, and on the fateful day in September, he was once again at the helm of Shay locomotive #9, taking on the daunting task of navigating Pine Mountain. The journey from Fairwood to the top of Pine Mountain was no small feat. Spanning about five miles, it took roughly an hour for Steffey to guide the massive locomotive up the switchback. The logging crew was dropped off  and Steffey’s train was turned to begin its descent. It was here that things took a tragic and unexpected turn. As the train began its descent down the mountain, which featured a steep 6% grade, Steffey applied the brakes, expecting to slow the heavy load. However, to his horror, there were no brakes. The train began to pick up speed rapidly, and Steffey realized the full extent of the danger. Without brakes, he was helpless to slow the train as it hurtled downhill. He whistled to the back of the train to alert the Fireman. The train reached dangerous speeds, and the situation worsened as gears started stripping off the wheels, further reducing the train’s resistance. At this point, Steffey’s options were limited. In a desperate attempt to alert the crew and prevent a disaster, the fireman, Nute Bateman, tied off the whistle to signal impending doom. Bateman, fearing for his life, jumped off the train, narrowly escaping the impending crash and certain death. Meanwhile, Fields Anderson, the conductor, managed to lock the brakes on the last car in a last-ditch effort to stop the train. Realizing they had no chance of stopping the runaway train, Anderson also jumped, watching helplessly as the train sped away around the bend. Both Bateman and Anderson survived, though they could do nothing but watch in horror as the train disappeared around a curve in the mountain. Moments later, the sound of a horrific crash echoed across the valley. The two men rushed to the scene of the wreck, which wasn’t far from where they had jumped. As they approached, they saw the twisted, mangled wreckage of the train, derailed and overturned on its side. The wreck was a scene of utter devastation. Steffey, however, was not immediately found. It wasn’t until later that his body was discovered, crushed beneath the boiler of the 65-ton Shay locomotive. Kent Steffey’s death was a tragic loss. He was survived by his wife, Emma, and their four children: Mabel, Ruth, Virginia, and Mary. His passing left a deep void in the community, especially for his family and colleagues at Spruce Lumber Company. Despite the danger he faced, Steffey’s courage and quick thinking during his final moments, as well as the brave actions of his crew members, remain a testament to the sacrifices made by railroad workers every day. All that remains is his tombstone in Rural Retreat, Va., and this ballad, “The Wreck of Ole Number Nine.” Kent Steffey was an engineer, the best one on the line. Each morning he’d leave Fairwood with his Engine Number Nine. To the mountains he would go, making sure to run on time, Not knowing that his fate relied on his lucky Number Nine. Fields Anderson was conductor on that fateful day. The autumn sun shone brightly, painting the world in gay display. Beneath the clear, blue sky, no hint of danger lay, But the engine’s brakes refused to work, and Kent’s train ran away. “On brakes, on brakes!” he whistled, but the brakemen were all gone, And the fireman, Nute Bateman, thinking of his home, Leaped from the cab to save his life, as Nine dashed madly on. Still on the rails, the bell began its mournful clang, And across the mountain air, the sorrowful whistle rang. ‘Farewell, farewell,’ it seemed to say, and the wheels sang death’s song. It struck the curve with awful force, and from the rails she sprang. Beneath the wreck, now cold and still, the engineer was found, His body crushed and mangled, buried beneath the ground. Now poor Kent is sleeping beneath the mountain sod, His body cold and buried, but his soul has gone to God. ~Anonymous

History, Industry, Railroad, Stories

Teas School

Teas School

Teas School: A Glimpse into the Past and the Struggles of Rural Education In the early 1900s, the small town of Teas, Virginia, was a thriving community born from the success of the Extract Plant, which had been established around 1910. The plant’s superintendent, Mr. W. H. Teas, lent his name to the town, marking the beginning of a new chapter in the area’s history. As the plant grew, so did the community, and with that came the creation of company housing, a post office, a commissary, and more. One of the most significant establishments was the Teas School, which became a central institution for local children. The school operated through the 1950s, and some say it possibly remained in service into the very early 1960s. During its years of operation, however, it became clear that the conditions at Teas School were far from ideal. A newspaper article published in March of 1954 in the Smyth County News sheds light on the challenges faced by the school and its students during this period. This “tell-all” piece was part of a series focusing on rural schools in the county and aimed to highlight the dire circumstances at Teas School. The article, titled “Bleak Conditions at Teas School,” painted a bleak picture of the school’s state. The article emphasized that the lunch period for students was a “sad time” due to the inadequate equipment available. The kitchen only had running water when the basin in the hall was not in use, and hot water for washing dishes and other equipment had to be heated on a stove. The building itself was in a state of disrepair, with the exterior missing underpinning, a loose gutter that allowed snow and water to drip onto the steps, and railings around the porch completely absent. The lack of proper doors, broken windows, and deteriorating plaster made the school a cold and uncomfortable place for children to learn. The conditions inside the classrooms were equally concerning. Desks were old double seaters requiring students sit two to a seat, and some were seated too close to the stove, while others sat in areas that were too far from it to stay warm. There was only one light in each room, and the overall atmosphere was not conducive to learning. In fact, the article noted that the school’s environment was so challenging that it was hindering the students’ ability to receive a proper education. The author of the article, whose identity remains unknown, clearly intended to bring attention to the serious shortcomings at Teas School and maybe even embellish them a bit. It is unclear why Teas School did not receive funds or repairs over those years it was in service. The article’s detailed descriptions of the physical problems, along with the poor educational conditions, demonstrated just how much the community and its children were suffering by this time. By the 1960s, the inevitable conclusion was reached: Teas School was abandoned, and its students and teacher were transferred to Sugar Grove School, where better conditions awaited them. Looking back on the history of Teas School is a reminder of the resilience of rural communities and the challenges they faced in providing education to their children. While the conditions at Teas School were far from ideal, the spirit of the community and its efforts to keep the school going speaks to the importance of education, even in the most difficult circumstances. Today, Teas School may be a distant memory, but its story is a vital part of the Rye Valley’s history. The building that served for decades as Teas School was finally torn down sometime in the early 2000s. Most who attended Teas School have fond memories of their time there and their teachers and unlike the description of the article, seemed to have very happy memories of school there and then later at Sugar Grove. We do not have a lot of information about the students or teachers at Teas School It was a small two room school.  We have several photos shared on this article from Lucille Kinkade’s collection. She taught there for several years before moving to Sugar Grove School along with a Mrs. Slemp during the 50s.  If you have additional information or stories about Teas School, please comment on the article. Photos of Teas School Through The years photos of Teas School before it was torn down Photos of Teas School before it was torn down Photos of Teas School Before it was torn down Mrs. Lucille Kinkade, Teacher at Teas School and Sugar Grove School Lucille Kinkade’s painting of Teas School Teas School Class Photos at Teas School Students at Teas School Conditions 1952 Continued Conditions 1952 Continued Conditions at Teas School 1952 Ruth Slemp, Teacher

Communities, Education, Teas, Teas School

From Sugar Grove To The American Red Cross National Capital Region

From Sugar Grove To The American Red Cross National Capital Region

Preface: This article will not be written by the editor of the site but rather its original author through the transcription of her original notes. The following comes to us from Janelle Hamric (1916-2022), a lifelong resident of Sugar Grove. Through her writings, we will now learn the full story of how Sugar Grove attained national recognition and played a notable role in the history of the country during WWI and then gained national recognition nearly one hundred years later. Donna (Hamm) Keesling’s Quilt    1918 “From the back roads of my mind…” Each Red Cross (small) joining the quilt represented a .10 cent donation. After the signing of “Armistice” on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month 1918, the war which began in 1914 was over. Mama embroidered a “Gold Star” on any name of a serviceman’s square who had been lost in action. When my grandparents F. Jackson and Emma (Phipps) Hamm decided to sell their property at auction, including the mill they built, now known as the Hamm Roberts Mill, and move to Rising Sun, MD, chances were sold on the quilt at mama’s request and proceeds added to the Quilt Fund. Aunt Lora Hutton, her sister, had the lucky number! She said “I would like to let it go to the highest bidder.” Grandfather bought the quilt  and gave it to mama. Presently, I am the “Keeper” but it will be placed in the Smyth County Museum at a later date. Total amount collected for The Red Cross was $111.50 (In mama’s writing on the back of the quilt) The same buying power today would be $1868.65. My mother died at age 57 and we wondered what other things she could have done. She “loved her neighbors as herself” and was a dedicated Christian. I displayed the quilt for Elizabeth Church and the Ruritan Club November 4, 2013. Red Cross (Cont.) Mama thought the child who remained home the longest should have the quilt. My brother, Dean who lived in California had claim to the quilt. I kept it for several years and on his last visit here, I insisted he should take it with him. Two years ago, my brother realized his failing health and sent the quilt back to me UPS knowing it would find its rightful place in a museum. I am now the sole survivor of four siblings and “keeper” of the quilt. November 20. 2015 a letter was sent to Mrs. Hamric from the American Red Cross National Capital Region thanking her for her donation of her mother’s quilt. It went on to say “The quilt was on display at the Annual Salute to Service Gala in Washington DC. It served as the centerpiece in an exhibit celebrating the long history of support the American Red Cross has provided our men and women in the military. Over 700 guests were present for this event including US Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter.” This letter further went on to say that given the historical importance and age of the quilt, a textile expert had been engaged  from the Corcoran Gallery of Art  to ensure proper preservation of this quilt.  It also specified that it was believed that this quilt was part of a larger national fundraising effort for the war in 1918 and further research would be done for additional examples across the country.  Sugar Grove’s Red Cross quilt serves as the centerpiece for this exhibit.

Communities, Families, Hamm, History, Keesling, Mill, Sugar Grove, Teas, WWI

The Smyth County Almshouse at Teas

The Smyth County Almshouse at Teas

In 1874, the Smyth County Board of Supervisors purchased 274 acres from John M. Williams in the Rye Valley. This land was purchased to create an almshouse or poor farm in this part of the county. The Sheriff was ordered to collect 18 3/4 cents from every taxable person for the support of the almshouse. The Smyth County Almshouse is established in 1874 near Teas, Virginia on present day Slabtown road. Mr. Will Keesling was listed as a superintendent of the poor house at one time  and Mr. Samuel  Wilkinson is listed as superintendent on the 1910 census and his wife, Jennie Wilkinson is listed as housekeeper. During the Civil War and following the war, most of the men had gone to serve and were either killed or returned home with injuries that left them unable to work. This was one basis of establishing these almshouses.  The poorhouses population was more narrowly defined during the twentieth century when  social welfare legislation such as workman’s compensation, unemployment, benefits and social security  began to provide a rudimentary safety net for people who would previously have been pauperized by such circumstances. Eventually the poorhouses evolved  almost exclusively into nursing homes for dependent elderly people . But poorhouses left orphanages, general hospitals and mental hospitals for which they had provided the prototype as their heritage system that such people in institutions  would provide the opportunity to reform them and cure them of bad. habits and character defects that were assumed to be the cause of  their poverty. This as they soon found out was not the case. Often the poorhouse was located on the grounds of a poor farm, on which able-bodied Residents were required to work, Such farms were common in the United States in the 19th and early 20th century. A poorhouse could even be part of the same economic complex as a prison farm. and other penal, or charitable public institutions. Poor farms were county or town run. Residences where paupers (mainly elderly and disabled people) who were supported at public expense. The farms declined in use after the Social Security Act took effect in 1935, with them disappearing completely by about 1950. Most were working farms that produced at least some of the produce, grain, and livestock they consumed. Residents were expected to provide labor to the extent their health would allow,  both in the fields and in providing and housekeeping and care for other residents. Rules were strict and accommodations minimal. The photo at the top of this article was taken many years after the poorhouse closed. It met the basic needs of people who did not have anywhere else to turn. They were given a roof over their head , a bed for sleeping and three meals a day during the late 1800s and early 1900s. In 1910, a census document lists the following as Inmates at the poor farm at Teas: Robert Harris, 35 Bettie Harris, 30 Guess Colin, 89 Leander Walls, 83 Mary Hogston, 67 Dollie McGee, 46 Ivans Willard, 6 Neoma Ranels, 80 Maud Marshall, 52 Mary Losson, 41 Mary Pickle, 35 Corrill Crutchfield, 20 The poor farm was sold in 1914. By 1927, Smyth County had joined others in the establishment of a district home in Pulaski. During the days of the almshouse in Smyth County, there were reportedly about 1200 people who were dependent on the county. There were multiple poor farms around the county during this time. Special thanks to the research of Donald Harrington for some of the details of this article. Without his work and his family’s contribution to this article, we would not have a photo of the Poor Farm house or much of the information that has been presented here.   

Cedar Springs, Communities, Families, History, Keesling, Poor Farm, Teas, Williams