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Carol Perkins: The Hitching Post 'James Sullivan came to Metcalfe County from Russell County when he was just a boy and died in 1952 when he was seventy five and I was only six," Carol Sullivan writes. "By all accounts, he might easily have been the greatest man I never knew. He was certainly a progressive one." The next earlier Carol Perkins column, Who is watching your children? By Carol Sullivan Perkins My grandfather, James Monroe Sullivan, ran a country store and established the first post office in what is known as Cork. Supposedly, he named the post office after our ancestors from Cork, Ireland; however, it may have derived from the rows of bottles sealed with corks, before Prohibition, that lined the shelves. A man wanted a drink, down came the bottle and off came the cork. How Grandpa ended the partnership at Cork According to my grandmother (Ethel Acree Sullivan), he had a partner in the store, and they had a falling out. Grandpa took a chair out in the road, loaded his pistol, and shot out every letter of the man's name in the sign hanging above the store. That was one way to end a partnership. Cedar Flat was next home From Cork, my grandfather bought a farm in the Cedar Flat community. He was a trader of land, but not a farmer. This was to be his final stop. My grandmother, with five boys by then, said she was moving no more, and she didn't. This is where she raised nine of her thirteen children (two died prematurely and Clyde when he was three) and where she died at the age of ninety seven. Trained to be teacher under Professor Thompson My grandfather taught school after being trained at the Normal School by the noted Professor Thompson. After a few years, he left teaching and built and operated a grist meal on his farm. Perhaps the most interesting of his jobs was that of a ghost writer for many state politicians. Wrote for Henry Watterson He actually wrote for Henry Watterson, founder of the Courier, and named my father for this man, a name now handed down to the third Watterson in the family. Years ago, but not so many that you won't remember, the courthouse yard was outlined with iron pipes running through concrete posts. Early on, this railing was for horses, but during my time it was for people to idle away an afternoon. When the judge in the 1920s decided to add hitching post to the courthouse yard, he commissioned my grandfather to engineer a plan. Grandpa convinced county to build concrete hitching posts At first, the powers of the county wanted a wooden fence for the horses, but my grandfather knew they would tear it down within six months, so he convinced them to construct the concrete square posts, which are standing today. Each had a thick steel railing extending horizontally from one concrete post to the next. He and his oldest sons, Carl and Walter, threaded each steel rail and completed the rails and hitching posts. Before protest could be mounted, steel pipes were removed I don't know who made the call or why it was made, but one morning the rails were there and then they weren't. A decision must have come down from somewhere that those steel rails (round pipes) needed to be removed. Before anyone like me could protest, they were gone. That rail around the courthouse had a history and it wasn't about rails; it was about the lives of people who spun tales from atop of them, whittled as they leaned on them, or sat on them on a Saturday afternoon with their girlfriends. Many parents gathered in town on Saturday nights while their kids went to the movie. Mothers sat in cars with the windows down; men sat on the rails. Kids measured their athletic ability by seeing how far they could walk on them without falling into the grass or gravel. I didn't know this story until the rails were gone. It happened to surface during a conversation with my only living Sullivan uncle, Oscar. Had I known the history, I might have led a rally to save them. Even now, I miss those pipes around the courthouse yard. James Sullivan came to Metcalfe County from Russell County when he was just a boy and died in1952 when he was seventy five and I was only six. By all accounts, he might easily have been the greatest man I never knew. He was certainly a progressive one. -Carol This story was posted on 2010-07-11 07:43:51
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Have comments or corrections for this story? Use our contact form and let us know. More articles from topic Carol Perkins:
Carol Perkins: Who is watching your children? Carol Perkins: Feeling Like Myself Carol Perkins: Churches Carol Perkins: Missing Mother Carol Perkins: The new washing machine Carol Perkins: Let's Talk About...Flour Sack Dresses Carol Perkins: Let's Talk About... Field Hockey Carol Perkins: Sinus! Carol Perkins: In a hurry Carol Perkins: The Furniture Truck View even more articles in topic Carol Perkins |
 
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