By John R. Elkins
It may not be amiss to state that the frosts of my 74 winters have passed over my head and that my mind, while not wedded entirely to events of the past, ruminates backward oftener than forward. I love to keep abreast of the times, but the world “do move” and the momentum is so swift that old fossils like myself will do well to drop out of the race before being “run” over in a jiffy.
On the 11th day of February, 1849, the year that the gold mining fever raged in California, I first saw the light of day in a house which stood on Union street, where Baldy Moss, an old and highly esteemed merchant, had a store. Here I remained for 30 years, and then changed residence. In all the mutations of time since then, I have never forgotten my native heath, and ever and anon my mind has run back to days of my childhood when the singing of the birds, the croak of the frogs, and the whippoorwill added zest to the good old summer time. The pleasure of my visit on this occasion has been greatly enhanced by having my Texas brother with me.
Tramping Over the City
A page could be written with regard to the financial growth of Concord, but as statistics are usually dry as dust to the average reader. I prefer to relate events which occurred before the city became a city. My brother, active as a cat and vigorous as a Texas steer, has almost knocked off my socks, hunting for relics of the past.
Bits of History
During the war between the states, Josiah L. Bundy, father of the late John Bundy, and Mrs. Sam Murr, and a leader in the M.E. Old Church, was High Sheriff of Cabarrus County. He also owned and operated a tanyard nearby, which later passed into the hands of Jas. W. Long, and still later became the property of Geo. W. Patterson Sr. Often, when boys about 10 years of age, we would go to this tanyard and assist the Bundy boys in breaking bark for the mill while the old mule Jerry, at the end of a long lever, turned the mill to grind the bark. Old Jerry established a gait of travel that neither wind nor rain could disturb. He was “abiding while ages flee” and if there is a haven of rest where good animals go, old Jerry deserved it. After much searching we located the old road leading to this place, but were in the predicament of the fellow who went west and reported back “Here is a dream by a mill site, but no mill by a dam site.” Now friends, this is not profanity for I don’t handle such currency. There was not a vestige of that tanyard left nor a building, not a vat, only the old spring to identify the place. As we stood by this old spring and with cup again tested its cool, sparkling water, which had so often quenched our thirst more than 65 years ago, our hearts swelled with gratitude to |God that our lives had been spared to see this good hour.
The Spike Team and Its Owner
Uncle Rhineland Suther, a highly esteemed old citizen, who lived on the property occupied by the Cannon & Fetzer stores. He also owned a farm lying near the Three Miles Branch, and he also possessed two mules and a horse for farm purposes. The names of the mules were Sal and Ben, and the horse was named Doc. Uncle Rhinehold did much of the driving and when hitched up he had a familiar was of addressing the animals which they seemed to understand by saying “Neck Dock,” “You Sal,” Fire Ben.” He was a good citizen and accumulated a sufficiency for comfort and in departing left a good name as a heritage to his children. [Uncle Suther’s first name given as Rhineland on first reference and Rhinehold on second; also horse’s name was Doc and then Dock. I don’t know which is correct.]
The Methodist Old Parsonage
After the absence of so many years, even with the aid of friends, it has been rather difficult to locate certain houses and places, but there are a few that look natural. Among the buildings which I recall and perhaps of most interest to the writer, is the old Methodist parsonage on Church street which was the home of many of the earlier Methodist ministers. The first of these that I remember weas Rev. W.S. Halton. After him Paul F. Kistler, Jacob L. Shuford, John Watts, Louis Scarboro, Sandy Wood, etc., and the last I think to occupy it as a parsonage was Rev. M.C. Davis. During or about the close of the war, it became the property of Mrs. Robinson Foil, and is still owned, I believe, by that estate. I do not know just how long this old building has been standing, but I have known it for at least 65 years and it was then by no means of the spring hatching. I think it has been perhaps 80 years since it was erected.
There are several other houses and places of special interest that may fall victims to my pen before I conclude my itinerary, and before returning to my adopted home I will try to get time to write of the beauty and growth of Concord.
From page 2 of The Concord Daily Tribune, June 2, 1923
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