Amidst peals of laughter over mirthful reminiscences, 11 “Old Timers” of the Queen City pulled aside the curtain of time at the Y.M.C.A. Friday night and peered into the past of 55 years ago. The proverbial scythe has been diligent in its murderous work, and only a few of the boys of ‘70 remain. But a man is no older than he feels, and with a “Let ‘er rip, Mr. Clarkson,” from Colonel A.E. Smith, the chairman of the meeting, Heriot Clarkson, certainly “let ‘er rip.”
He told of the days following Sherman’s march to the sea, how everything in his path was left in ashes, and how devastated this state was after the Civil war. It looked as if the state was doomed forever, Clarkson declared, but with lightning strides obstacles were overcome. In an incredible length of time the state sprang to the front. It is now among the first in cotton, tobacco, and many other things, and ranks among the foremost states in the Union. Mr. Clarkson also praised the present administration in its road bond issue and educational appropriations, saying that already more has been accomplished than has been done in a quarter of a century.
“Gentlemen,” began W.B. Kidd, who was called upon next, “don’t call me old for I never saw an old kid yet.”
Mr. Kidd told of the Ku Klux Klan and the number of escapades with the members when a mere lad. He dealt with the organization of the first building and loan association in 1881 in Charlotte, described the wonderful strides the city had made, and declared that the location was one of the most healthful in the country. He had never been sick a day, he said.
“I have pulled more than one cow out of the swamps of Trade street,” he continued, “and I have seen the time when you couldn’t cross the Square without a boat. Those were the days when we were all poor, but I don’t know of a single man who has stuck to Charlotte who hasn’t been successful.”
Miles B. Pegram, of Ed Mellon’s, declared that he had fished all the way from the railroad crossing on Tryon street to Gastonia, and had played baseball in the middle of every business block in the town practically.
Major J.G. Baird said he arrived in the city in ‘75. He told of the race riots about that time and of the activities of the Ku Klux Klan, of which he was a member.
“Charlotte was a hell hole in those days,” he expounded. “The devil himself had to bow to College street between Trade and Third streets. It was the worst part of the United States, I dare say—saloons, gambling joints and everything else imaginable. I remember one day a policeman tried to arrest an old negro woman who was disturbing the peace. In the ensuing scuffle she had practically every stitch of her clothes torn off. The policeman grabbed her by the feet, put her on an old wagon, hauled her up through the square before everybody and dumped her in the jail. Those were great days, all right!”
Major Baird also told of the winter of ‘77. It was the coldest winter he had ever heard of, he declared. Snow, he said, stayed on the ground for six months, and every wild animal and bird in the country for miles around wandered into the city for food. He said he caught dozens of partridges with his hands at that time.
He also dwelt on the Vance and Settle fight for governorship about that time. He said the people were on hand at a speaking between the two with pistols two feet long, and that everybody was yearning for a riot.
“I came here from Germany in ‘81,” said A.R. Willman. “My first impression of the city was the sight of people eating watermelons. I had no idea what they were, never having seen or heard of them before. But, with a young froend of mine from Germany, we chipped in and bought one, sneaked out to the woods and cut it open. Then we dived into it. Well, sir, the darn thing was green, but we thought they were all that color. Being unable to eat the inside, we started on the rine. That was worse than ever—so, “I’ll be blamed if we didn’t try to take the thing home and cook it.”
“I hit this berg in ‘73,” said L.L. Sarratt. “I started to work with Elias & Cohen. I had been there three weeks when Mr. Elias called me in his office and said, ‘What wages are you getting?’ ‘There never has been anything said about wages,’ I answered. ‘Well, what do you think you ought to get?’ he asked. ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘I don’t figure I’m worth a cent to the concern.’ Later I got $40 a month.
“That old store of Elias and Cohen was a bird. Old man Elias used to hire the clerks on contracts, that is, tell them he would try them for a certain length of time. One day in the early summer he hired a clerk on trial until Christmas. The clerk was rotten, and I’ll never forget old man Elias walking around the store every day saying, ‘Tank Gawd—only six weeks more till Christmas.’”
W.M. Barnett told of the cock fights in the old days. He said the only reason he could remember the events was because they were so mean and devilish.
“There was an old fellow named Landecker,” he said, “who used to be a merchant in town. He made himself a shower bath out of a big barrel behind his store, and every evening after work he would run out there, pull of his clothes, jump under the barrell and pull the string. Well, one day we boys sneaked back there and put 50 pounds of ice in that barrel. A little w3hile later, out came old man Landecker. We were hiding among the boxes watching him. He pulled off his clothes and made for the barrel. It was a hot afternoon, and he was perspiring considerably. For a moment he stood under the barrel in anticipation of the soothing water, and then he pulled down on the string. Well, sir, if we hadn’t stopped him he would be running yet. He looked like a straying iceberg from the North Pole. That was the funniest thing I ever saw in my life!”
Then Arthur Butt took the stand.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I’ll never forget the elections of those days. Nothing like them now. I never went to the polls to vote—I just went to see them fight. Everybody in the county came to town with every conceivable weapon available, and I have seen many a single vote sell for as high as $35. There was a race riot every day in the year and a fellow thought about as much of stumbling over a dead man in an alley as a billy goat does of eating tin cans. “But, let me tell you—there was honesty in those days. If a man belonged to a church, that was all that was needed to get credit—for the churches turned out every soul who failed to pay his debts. Not so now. If you’d tell a man you wanted credit because you belonged to the church he’d say, ‘My friend, the worst customers I give credit to belong to the church.’
I remember all the boys in those days. I recall how Heriot Clarkson used to get up when a mere kid whenever any kind of a debate was going on and sling more ‘bull’ in a minute than anybody else could in a year. Of course, he never said anything—but that’s a lawyer’s business. They kept on talking and talking until finally they get somebody to catch on to what they are saying.”
W.M. Crowell told of the big fire in the city in 1875. He described the great lot of cotton destroyed and the devastation of houses and other property. It was an awful sight, he declared.
“Then there was that race riot of Christmas, the same year. The negroes were lined up on East Trade street and the whites on West Trade. Suddenly some wild fellow jumped up on a horse with a pistol in each hand and galloped headlong down into the negroes. He scattered them in every direction, killed the ring leader and returned unharmed. After that, things settled down considerably. But there were a lot of fights in those days.”
Charles M. Davidson told of the saloons in the city in the old days. There was a barroom everywhere one looked, he declared. Cockfights, gambling and scrapping was a daily occurrence. It was a wonder, he declared, how anybody ever lived through those times.
“I could write a volume of history about the events I recollect in those days,” asserted Colonel A.L. Smith, the chairman of the meeting. “The most vivid things to me, however, are the dances they used to have. There were three fire companies in those days, and the sole ambition of each was to see which could give the biggest dance. When the chief of the fire department was elected every twentieth of May, a ball took place, such as probably never will occur again. I remember the Italian band of four pieces they used to have. The music was wonderful, and I seldom missed one of the events. I was a sort of ‘ladies’ man’ in those days.
“But things are different with the young crowd now. Then, we always addressed a young lady as ‘Miss,’ and never used her first name. Now it’s ‘Sallie’ and ‘Mary’ with the young set at the first introduction. And another thing, if a fellow was caught smoking a cigarette in those days, he was run out of town. That was the worst crime a man could commit. Cigarettes were a novelty then, and a man smoking one was a curiosity.
“Taken as a whole, Charlotte was more honest, full of better and more lovable citizens and happier in those days than it is now. Everybody considered the other man his equal, and the social life was a good deal more pleasing than it is today. I used to know every soul in town then, but now I am almost a stranger after having lived these many years in the city. I stood on the street corner only Thursday and out of 72 people I counted passing by—I knew only one. Times have changed, I tell you. We have got a bigger and a more beautiful city—but the citizens now can’t hold a light to the fellows who lived here in those days!”
Every man present expressed his joy and pleasure over the meeting, and stood on the street corners a long time after the meeting was over discussing recollections which burst into their minds. I twas agreed to form an organization for the business men of 55 years ago, and meet at various times in the future for reminiscences.
From The Charlotte News, Sunday morning, March 20, 1921. Some of your ancestors comments might make you uncomfortable, but that's history for you. These men, who were community leaders, recall some less than wonderful things, and conclude that the times sure were wonderful back then, that people were "more honest, full of better and more loveable citizens and happeri in those days than it is now."
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