I was fortunate to visit the area of his birth and see the replica of the cabin he was born in.
Built in the 1950's it was modeled after a late 18th century log cabin from that area.
With just one room and a ladder leading to the loft the family lived in tight proximity.
The front and back doors faced each other with a wide gap all around the perimeter for the freezing air to penetrate. The two windows were wooden shutters also with gaps and I cannot image how cold it was even with the open wood fire.
My husband took me on a freezing day in 2006.
It was a good day to go as it helped me understand the hardship of these poor pioneer families. Every day was a struggle finding food and keeping wood cut and supplied for warmth.
Looking closely at the structure I couldn't find a single nail.
I found this truly amazing!! as well as the fixation of the timber on the wall corners, all without nails.
Heavy hardened mud filled the gaps between the logs keeping much of the wind and cold at bay.
Set near the banks of a fast flowing Nolichucky river.
I imagined Davey struggling to maneuvering his wooden barge on the swift wild current.
There is nothing quite like standing in a place where you know others have stood before you.
Then allowing your mind to drift... taking you back through time to that bygone era. Closing your eyes you can see the figures in heavy clothing and skins for warmth. Smell the fresh pine scented air, and feel the peoples expectancy for survival.
I was a little girl when the Fess Parker movie of Davey's life became popular.
I learnt to sing the song,"Born on a mountain top in Tennessee."
My sister brought my little brother a coon skin hat with tail.
I jealously looked longingly at that hat wishing I was a boy to wear one also.
I brought one each for all of my grandchildren in Australia, even the girls.
I learned he was so much more than a frontiersman.
He was also a politician and a soldier.
Because of men and women like him, we live in our wonderful world of today.
Lovely post, thank tou so much Crystal Mary - I feel like you did this one just for me! Fess Parker's movie, the davy Crockett hats, what memories it all brings back.
ReplyDeleteI didn't know there was a homestead museum for him, I just love seeing the humble beginnings that greatness can emerge from, and he was a great politician too. I think I read somewhere that the corner joints of these log cabins were cut out differently in different regions and some people could even tell who built it by looking at the carpentry. There is a book to read in these old buildings if only we knew how to read them.
Thanks again, Crystal Mary.
I like this post. You look cold - even though it was sunny.
ReplyDeleteGod bless.
A lovely story Mary Crystal with very nice photos. So interesting to see the log cabin. They were certainly tougher then to put up with so much hardship. Nice to see you in the picture too!
ReplyDeleteHugs June xx
Phillip, Gosh history is so great!!!
ReplyDeleteYou cannot believe how hard those people worked nothing was done the easy way. Yes I believe you could tell a region by the way the cabins were built. I believe by looking at these logs they were hewn by hand with an axe.The wooden floor was amazing also. Love it...
Victor, The sun was out but it was freezing. I wore my hubbies coat.
June, Yes, the people were very strong in character to survive. I believe I could have lived happily back then...but not to have the fear of Indians.
This cabin was 40miles from where I lived. I returned a second time to examine it again...
I EAT history into my brain.
Bless you all.
Loved Fess Parker playing Davy Crocket -
ReplyDeletesandie
great post. i enjoy seeing how someone in history lived. i loved the walt disney movie. thanks rose
ReplyDeleteJust a side note: country folk in my area used to hang old blankets, quilts or comforters over the inside of doors and windows in cold weather to help keep out drafts. It helped a lot! I suspect the old-timers did the same.
ReplyDeleteOne of the things I love most about living in New England is the wealth of history all around. Old houses with the date of their construction on a plaque in plain view. Nothing like Europe, of course, but we're still young on this side of the Atlantic. God willing, the day will come when we'll measure construction in thousands rather than hundreds of years, as well. In the meantime, I still feel a sense of wonder when I drive into a town founded in 1620 or even my own, founded in 1772. It makes me feel rooted and grounded in something that has managed to endure beyond a century. God blesses in ways we scarcely recognize sometimes because we're so busy looking for "spiritual things" when, in fact, he's the God of everything. Thanks for the little visit into American History! :-)
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