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The link is courtesy of Ron's blog - Retired in Delaware.
CLICK THIS ALBUM COVER, and you'll get a different kind of good music. Diane
I saw not only these 3 in live performances, but Sammy Davis, Jr. In fact I saw Mr. Davis and Freddie Prinz perform less than a year before Freddie died. So, I've started a little play-list that will feature some of that 'Not-so-ratty' Pack; Frank, Jr. - Nancy, Sammy; Dean, and I'm putting in a bit of Maynard Ferguson because I like his style. Click this picture and try out the songs. Oh yes, this photograph is of the inside of my coffee cup; the coffee's just about gone, and I manipulated the colors 'just a wee bit'. It looks a bit like a 'push-button', so PUSH IT! Diane
He designs; builds, and plays guitar. He loves Grover Washington like I do. If you'll just CLICK MY BROTHER'S PICTURE, you'll get about 90 minutes of Mr. Washington's music. When you see the VIEW TAB, click that and 'start the music'. Enjoy! Diane
The photoshow of those I love is below:
http://eyeconart.net
when it's sadness & lies, not so much...
...AND YOUR MIND.
...MAKE IT PLURAL - BLUE MOONS...
I took this photo - reminds me of a swaying female singing and belting out a great song!
...AND SOME OF US COLOR THEM DIFFERENTLY THAN THEY SEE THEMSELVES.
Arrival & Departure
By Philip Levine
Arriving in December on a Greyhound From Paducah, you saw the usual sunRising on your right over the bowed houses
Of Dearborn as a wafer of moon descended
On your left behind the steaming rail yards
Wakening for work. “Where are we?” you asked.
In 1948 people still talked
To each other even when they had something
To say, so of course I answered.
I wasn’t
Innocent exactly, nor experienced
Either, just a kid; “Downtown,”
I said,
As the bus with its cargo of bad breath
Pulled in behind the depot just off
Washington Boulevard.
Had you been
A woman, even one with crooked teeth,
A tight smile, and no particular charm,
I would have offered you a place to stay,
But at 6'2" and 185
With your raw Indian features and hands
Twice the size of mine, you got only advice,
In the long run not very good advice.
I should have said,
“Go home, this town
Will break your heart,” but what did
I know
About your home on a hillside tobacco farm
In North Carolina?
What do I know now
Except the forests as you climb higher,
Dotted here and there with weathered shacks
The color of lead, and the rising silence
Of winter as the snow descends unstained
Into the early dusk.
There was snow here, too,
Speckled with cinders, piss yellowed, tired,
And the smell of iron and ashes blowing
In from Canada, and you and I waiting
For a streetcar that finally arrived
Jammed with the refuse of the nightshift
At Plymouth Assembly.
I should have seen
Where we were headed; even at twenty
It was mine to know.
Like you I thought
2.35 an hour was money,
I thought we’d sign on for afternoons and harden
Into men. Wasn’t that the way it worked,
Men sold themselves to redeem their lives?
If there was an answer I didn’t get it.
Korea broke, I took off for anywhere
Living where I could, one perfect season
In your mountains. The years passed,
Suddenly I was old and full of new needs.
When I went back to find you I found
Instead no one in the old neighborhood
Who knew who I was asking for, the Sure Shot
Had become a porno shop; the plating plant
On Trumbull had moved to Mexico
Or heaven.
In its space someone planted
Oiled grass, stripped-down cars, milkweeds
Shuddering in the traffic.
The river was here,
Still riding low and wrinkled toward a world
We never guessed was there, but still the same,
Like you, faithful to the end.
If your sister,
Widowed now, should call today and ask
One more time, “Where is he at?
I need him, He needs me,” what should I tell her?
He’s in the wind, he’s under someone’s
Boot-soles, he’s in the spring grass, he lives
In us as long as we live.
She won’t buy it,
Neither would you.
You’d light a cigarette,
Settle your great right hand behind my neck,
Bow down forehead to forehead, your black hair
Fallen across your eyes, and mutter something
Consequential, “bullshit” or “god a-mighty”
Or “the worst is still to come.”
You came north
To Detroit in winter.
What were you thinking?
Copyright © Philip Levine
- part of their e-mail is below -
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
When the West Virginia Constitution was put to a vote
many of Jefferson County’s citizens did not even know that
the question of whether to remain with Virginia or join the
new state of West Virginia was being put to a vote. When the
vote was taken the Union Army controlled the county and
opened just two precincts for voting. Those known to be Confederate sympathizers were under house arrest, and were
not allowed to vote. Jefferson County voted 248 for and two
against joining the new state of West Virginia.
At that time, the county had nearly 2,000 registered voters, but most of them were under house arrest.
After the war, Virginia demanded that Berkeley and
Jefferson counties be returned because they had not been a
part of the original annexation approved by Congress. Many
Jefferson and Berkeley county residents also expressed their
desire to remain a part of Virginia. As the controversy over
Berkeley and Jefferson counties continued, West Virginia’s
state legislature, in January 1865, moved the Jefferson
County seat from Charles Town to Shepherdstown, primarily
because Shepherdstown’s residents were ardent
supporters of becoming part of West Virginia.
The Shepherdstown West Virginians even had a plan to form a
new county to be called “Shepherd” if the citizens of the southern portion of the county did not comply with their wish to remain part of West Virginia. The controversy over Jefferson County’s location in West Virginia finally ended in 1866 after both the U.S. Senate and the U.S. House of Representatives ruled in favor of West Virginia’s claim to the land.
In an attempt to mollify those wanting the county to be returned to Virginia, the county seat was moved from Shepherdstown back to Charles Town.
When the county seat was moved from Shepherdstown,
the town’s residents decided to establish a school in the now
empty courthouse. The school was originally called the “Classical and Scientific Institute,” but its name was changed to Shepherd College in 1872.
In exchange for state support, Shepherd College’s trustees offered the state free access to the courthouse building. The state accepted the offer and Shepherd College became a state normal school.
In 1904, the college moved from the courthouse/McMurran Hall to a new building called “Knutti Hall,” named to honor its principal, J.G. Knutti.
Recent Important Events in Jefferson County
In 2000, Shepherdstown drew the attention of the entire
world as it hosted the latest round of the U.S.-brokered
Israeli-Syrian peace talks. The talks included Israeli Prime
Minister Ehud Barak and Syrian Foreign Minister Farouk
al-Shaara. President Bill Clinton served as mediator. The talks
did not produce any conclusive agreements, but they represented an important step toward peace.
The Jefferson County Seat
Charles Town, Jefferson County’s seat, was chartered by
the Virginia General Assembly in October 1786. It was named
in honor of Charles Washington, George Washington’s
youngest brother.
A NEW LIFE Much as a newborn babe emerges from its mother, So is the journey of healing......... We leave a place that has kept us tucked away;
Sometimes not even aware of how much is out there Simply waiting to be experienced... All of a sudden what we knew as familiar is being changed;
Becoming a place that we know we must escape from. So that we might continue to live.
So through struggle, pain, and a frightening push
We emerge.... Frightened, unsure of whether we can make it on our own.
Where is the security of the cocoon we wrapped so tightly around ourselves?
Where is the familiar, although narrow place, we have been comfortable living in?
What are all these new sensations? Can't we just stay where we were?
Our mind, and body are shaken, confused, searching... At first it is unnatural to us...
Then What is that feeling? I know, it is CONNECTION It is warm, welcoming, nurturing, caring.....
We begin to relax, and respond... The trip we took to get here seems like a lifetime away..
Trust Begins... A security that you are not alone, And that you have a new journey of life to explore A knowledge that this place is much better than the last...
Because HERE you have GROWTH and LIFE; And unbelievable opportunities..
So the journey begins..
The life long search for meaningful CONNECTIONS
A place where we know that we can't survive alone any longer... And that reaching out is what the journey is really all about...
Poem written by Tina Hatcher
Note by Tina: Whether our struggle be mental, physical, spiritual , or emotional, We have choices to stay in a familiar, (yet unhealthy) place, or to reach out and make our lives better. To change what is keeping us down and holding us back.
To let others reach out to us to offer the connection we so desperately need, and to offer others the same. You are part of that connection to me, and I hope I can be the same as your friend. Tina
A talented female who found the only way to become part of the jazz and music world, was to dress like a man her entire life. Not until her death and after the autopsy, did they discover she was a woman. In 2008, we're glad to know this type of masquerade is no longer necessary.
CLICK THIS PICTURE, AND VISIT TIM TIPTON
The link is courtesy of Ron's blog - Retired in Delaware.
An old record albumn by Billy Tipton
CLICK THIS ALBUM COVER, and you'll get a different kind of good music. Diane
"Loving this jazz...."
I was thinking about Frank Sinatra - his son, and Nancy.
I saw not only these 3 in live performances, but Sammy Davis, Jr. In fact I saw Mr. Davis and Freddie Prinz perform less than a year before Freddie died. So, I've started a little play-list that will feature some of that 'Not-so-ratty' Pack; Frank, Jr. - Nancy, Sammy; Dean, and I'm putting in a bit of Maynard Ferguson because I like his style. Click this picture and try out the songs. Oh yes, this photograph is of the inside of my coffee cup; the coffee's just about gone, and I manipulated the colors 'just a wee bit'. It looks a bit like a 'push-button', so PUSH IT! Diane
My brother has been a professional musician all his life.
He designs; builds, and plays guitar. He loves Grover Washington like I do. If you'll just CLICK MY BROTHER'S PICTURE, you'll get about 90 minutes of Mr. Washington's music. When you see the VIEW TAB, click that and 'start the music'. Enjoy! Diane
For some twenty-five years, Grover Washington, Jr., who died in December 1999, was among the most beloved instrumentalists in popular music.
He maintained the middle ground between jazz and rhythm-and-blues with great style and grace.
Washington made his reputation with a series of recordings made in the 70s. He began to play sessions with the likes of Bob James, Randy Weston, Eric Gale and Dave Grusin.
In 1980 his album The Winelight won two GRAMMY Awards, vaulting him to the forefront of jazz fusion.
In the early 80s, Washington played a major role in establishing the Philadelphia group Pieces of a Dream, producing three albums with them. Throughout the decade he continued to put out solo albums that, along with his work as composer and producer, reinforced his position as a key player in modern jazz.
He maintained the middle ground between jazz and rhythm-and-blues with great style and grace.
Washington made his reputation with a series of recordings made in the 70s. He began to play sessions with the likes of Bob James, Randy Weston, Eric Gale and Dave Grusin.
In 1980 his album The Winelight won two GRAMMY Awards, vaulting him to the forefront of jazz fusion.
In the early 80s, Washington played a major role in establishing the Philadelphia group Pieces of a Dream, producing three albums with them. Throughout the decade he continued to put out solo albums that, along with his work as composer and producer, reinforced his position as a key player in modern jazz.
PART OF MY FAMILY TREE....
The photoshow of those I love is below:
'BLESSING' by Robin Urton, Urton Art
http://eyeconart.net
A few words from my favorite 'blogger'.........
it seems to me that it is incumbent upon each of us to experience as much of the world's diversity as we possibly can during our lives -- and having done so, we will be confident in our own identities as well as respectful toward the identities of others.
at this point in our evolution as a species, there is simply not room for all this drama, antagonism, avarice and insecurity. on all sides. there are more important issues at stake, like saving what remains of the garden planet that our grandchildren will inherit.
I confess - I swiped those previous 2 paragraphs because she says it beautifully - many of us 'think it', but not all of us are as capable of putting it into 'words'.
Visit her: http://predatorhaven.blogspot.com
at this point in our evolution as a species, there is simply not room for all this drama, antagonism, avarice and insecurity. on all sides. there are more important issues at stake, like saving what remains of the garden planet that our grandchildren will inherit.
I confess - I swiped those previous 2 paragraphs because she says it beautifully - many of us 'think it', but not all of us are as capable of putting it into 'words'.
Visit her: http://predatorhaven.blogspot.com
'BLUES AND JAZZ'...when it's music I love it;
when it's sadness & lies, not so much...
'FIRE UP YOUR CURSOR' - THEN COME BACK HERE AND 'SCROLL'...THIS IS FUN!
PLEASE OPEN YOUR CURTAINS...
...AND YOUR MIND.
I read this woman's blog; her heart is big - she's 'on-target' about life I think.
OUTSIDE OUR WINDOW - MAKES ME THINK OF THE SONG 'BLUE MOON'
...MAKE IT PLURAL - BLUE MOONS...
GOOD JAZZ; SOME BLUES, AND A FEW 'TORCH SINGERS'...
I took this photo - reminds me of a swaying female singing and belting out a great song!
My dear friend wrote this - it's appropriate for this page and story I think...
The Dancer
She glides by wearing a long flowing gown of sapphire blue, yet no one noticed.
Her life had been lost to many eyes like the dancer atop a music box, with just a touch she dances for our pleasure as we watch from our world,
dancing for all and for no onealone...
In the dark confines
of her solitude
she cried, an eternal mark of her pain
left on the soft velvet pillows held through the night. Yet no tears are seen now as she cries...
For this lady of deep passion and undying pain has glided by once again.
Where is she going No one knows who will care No one will who shall embrace her tenderness tonight No one.
Her life was lost to emptiness, her soul has wandered for thousands of years, the flowing gown on her ghostly figure still, goes un-noticed.
Like the dancer atop a music box, with just a touch she dances for our pleasureas we watch from our world, dancing for all and for no one. Listen and fee lher deep passion and undying pain, as she once again, glides by-
Poetry © 4/9/2002 by Imaginee All rights reserved
She glides by wearing a long flowing gown of sapphire blue, yet no one noticed.
Her life had been lost to many eyes like the dancer atop a music box, with just a touch she dances for our pleasure as we watch from our world,
dancing for all and for no onealone...
In the dark confines
of her solitude
she cried, an eternal mark of her pain
left on the soft velvet pillows held through the night. Yet no tears are seen now as she cries...
For this lady of deep passion and undying pain has glided by once again.
Where is she going No one knows who will care No one will who shall embrace her tenderness tonight No one.
Her life was lost to emptiness, her soul has wandered for thousands of years, the flowing gown on her ghostly figure still, goes un-noticed.
Like the dancer atop a music box, with just a touch she dances for our pleasureas we watch from our world, dancing for all and for no one. Listen and fee lher deep passion and undying pain, as she once again, glides by-
Poetry © 4/9/2002 by Imaginee All rights reserved
SOME EGGS AREN'T CONTENT WITH THEIR 'NATURAL' STATE EITHER....
...AND SOME OF US COLOR THEM DIFFERENTLY THAN THEY SEE THEMSELVES.
Welcome to Tipton-Haynes State Historic Site...
At the Tipton-Haynes historic site, eleven buildings tell a story of Tennessee's history from early settlement to the Civil War era. Contained within the large white house is the 25' x 35' log cabin of Col. John Tipton. The Tiptons enlarged the home and built a shed porch across the front of the house and built a separate kitchen. In the 1850s, Haynes changed the front porch to what is seen today and constructed his law office next to the house. The lower floor of the main house is wheelchair accessible.
The outbuildings include a smokehouse, pigsty, loom house, still house, springhouse and the large log barn and corncrib from the Tipton period. In addition, there is the home of George Haynes, a slave with the Haynes family. Col. John Tipton is buried in the site's cemetery.
The historic physical features are the Buffalo Trail that later became the Jonesborough, Tennessee - Morganton, North Carolina Stage Road, the cave where tradition says that Daniel Boone camped, and the wooded area that contains many flowers and plants of the earlier period. Visitors use a self directed guide to explore the Andre Michaux trail. Surrounding the historic buildings are herb, kitchen and vegetable gardens.
Visitors are greeted in the Tipton-Haynes Museum and Education Center. The museum houses the permanent and temporary exhibit areas, education and reception space, a museum shop, and a library and archives that relate to the early history of Tennessee, as well as the Tipton and Haynes families. All are wheelchair accessible.
Tipton-Haynes is on the National Register of Historic Places
At the Tipton-Haynes historic site, eleven buildings tell a story of Tennessee's history from early settlement to the Civil War era. Contained within the large white house is the 25' x 35' log cabin of Col. John Tipton. The Tiptons enlarged the home and built a shed porch across the front of the house and built a separate kitchen. In the 1850s, Haynes changed the front porch to what is seen today and constructed his law office next to the house. The lower floor of the main house is wheelchair accessible.
The outbuildings include a smokehouse, pigsty, loom house, still house, springhouse and the large log barn and corncrib from the Tipton period. In addition, there is the home of George Haynes, a slave with the Haynes family. Col. John Tipton is buried in the site's cemetery.
The historic physical features are the Buffalo Trail that later became the Jonesborough, Tennessee - Morganton, North Carolina Stage Road, the cave where tradition says that Daniel Boone camped, and the wooded area that contains many flowers and plants of the earlier period. Visitors use a self directed guide to explore the Andre Michaux trail. Surrounding the historic buildings are herb, kitchen and vegetable gardens.
Visitors are greeted in the Tipton-Haynes Museum and Education Center. The museum houses the permanent and temporary exhibit areas, education and reception space, a museum shop, and a library and archives that relate to the early history of Tennessee, as well as the Tipton and Haynes families. All are wheelchair accessible.
Tipton-Haynes is on the National Register of Historic Places
Arrival & Departure
By Philip Levine
Arriving in December on a Greyhound From Paducah, you saw the usual sunRising on your right over the bowed houses
Of Dearborn as a wafer of moon descended
On your left behind the steaming rail yards
Wakening for work. “Where are we?” you asked.
In 1948 people still talked
To each other even when they had something
To say, so of course I answered.
I wasn’t
Innocent exactly, nor experienced
Either, just a kid; “Downtown,”
I said,
As the bus with its cargo of bad breath
Pulled in behind the depot just off
Washington Boulevard.
Had you been
A woman, even one with crooked teeth,
A tight smile, and no particular charm,
I would have offered you a place to stay,
But at 6'2" and 185
With your raw Indian features and hands
Twice the size of mine, you got only advice,
In the long run not very good advice.
I should have said,
“Go home, this town
Will break your heart,” but what did
I know
About your home on a hillside tobacco farm
In North Carolina?
What do I know now
Except the forests as you climb higher,
Dotted here and there with weathered shacks
The color of lead, and the rising silence
Of winter as the snow descends unstained
Into the early dusk.
There was snow here, too,
Speckled with cinders, piss yellowed, tired,
And the smell of iron and ashes blowing
In from Canada, and you and I waiting
For a streetcar that finally arrived
Jammed with the refuse of the nightshift
At Plymouth Assembly.
I should have seen
Where we were headed; even at twenty
It was mine to know.
Like you I thought
2.35 an hour was money,
I thought we’d sign on for afternoons and harden
Into men. Wasn’t that the way it worked,
Men sold themselves to redeem their lives?
If there was an answer I didn’t get it.
Korea broke, I took off for anywhere
Living where I could, one perfect season
In your mountains. The years passed,
Suddenly I was old and full of new needs.
When I went back to find you I found
Instead no one in the old neighborhood
Who knew who I was asking for, the Sure Shot
Had become a porno shop; the plating plant
On Trumbull had moved to Mexico
Or heaven.
In its space someone planted
Oiled grass, stripped-down cars, milkweeds
Shuddering in the traffic.
The river was here,
Still riding low and wrinkled toward a world
We never guessed was there, but still the same,
Like you, faithful to the end.
If your sister,
Widowed now, should call today and ask
One more time, “Where is he at?
I need him, He needs me,” what should I tell her?
He’s in the wind, he’s under someone’s
Boot-soles, he’s in the spring grass, he lives
In us as long as we live.
She won’t buy it,
Neither would you.
You’d light a cigarette,
Settle your great right hand behind my neck,
Bow down forehead to forehead, your black hair
Fallen across your eyes, and mutter something
Consequential, “bullshit” or “god a-mighty”
Or “the worst is still to come.”
You came north
To Detroit in winter.
What were you thinking?
Copyright © Philip Levine
LET a joy keep you.
Reach out your hands
And take it when it runs by,
As the Apache dancer
Clutches his woman.
I have seen them
Live long and laugh loud,
Sent on singing, singing,
Smashed to the heart
Under the ribs
With a terrible love.
Joy always,
Joy everywhere--Let joy kill you!
Keep away from the little deaths.
-Carl sandburg
Reach out your hands
And take it when it runs by,
As the Apache dancer
Clutches his woman.
I have seen them
Live long and laugh loud,
Sent on singing, singing,
Smashed to the heart
Under the ribs
With a terrible love.
Joy always,
Joy everywhere--Let joy kill you!
Keep away from the little deaths.
-Carl sandburg
'SOMEONE HAS MADE AN IMPRESSION ON ME'...
- part of their e-mail is below -
IN THE MIDST OF THE STORM, WE ALL SHALL EAT IF WE 'SHARE'...
THESE ARE THE WORDS I REMEMBER FROM MARTIN LUTHER KING'S SPEECH...
My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing.
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride,
From every mountainside, let freedom ring!
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true.
And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire.
Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York.
Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania.
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado.
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California.
But not only that:
Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia.
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee.
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
Free at last! Free at
last!
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!I don't think Dr. King was referring just to 'race or religion' - we live in a world where life is 'short'; where life and the quality of living, is easily changed (or even threatened) by forces that humans can not control.
When, as a human, we 'can control' how we act; what we say and do, let's try to make our actions positive and accommodating to those we share this planet with....
I SO DISLIKE THE TERM: 'SOCIAL ELITE' - THEY'VE CREATED PAIN FOR MILLIONS...THINK ABOUT IT...
Important Events in Morgan County
during the 1700s
As mentioned previously, George Washington visited
present-day Berkeley Springs several times with his halfbrother, Lawrence. When he vacationed in the area in 1767, he noted how busy the town had become. Lord Fairfax had built a summer home there and a “private bath,” making the area a popular destination for Virginia’s social elite.
As the town continued to grow, the Virginia General Assembly
decided to formally recognize it. In October 1776, the town
was officially named Bath, in honor of England’s spa city
called Bath. The town’s main north-south street was named
Washington and the main east-west street was named
Fairfax. Also, seven acres were set aside for “suffering
humanity.”
When West Virginia gained statehood, those acres
became West Virginia’s first state park.
Bath’s population increased during and immediately after
the American Revolutionary War as wounded soldiers and
others came to the area believing that the warm springs had
medicinal qualities.
Bath gained a reputation as a somewhat
wild town where eating, drinking, dancing and gambling on
the daily horse races were the order of the day. Bath later
became known as Berkeley Springs, primarily because the
town’s post office took that name (combining Governor
Norborne Berkeley’s last name with the warm springs found
there) to avoid confusion with another post office, located in
southeastern Virginia, which was already called Bath.
Because the mail was sent to and from Berkeley Springs,
that name slowly took precedence.
The Morgan County Seat
The Morgan County court met for the first time in Bath on
March 16, 1820 in Ignatious O’Ferrall’s tavern. Later meetings were held at the Buck Horn Tavern until a building was purchased for the court’s use. Initially, Morgan County’s government was dominated by Molly Abernathy and her two lawyer sons, John and Joseph.
The main order of business at that time was keeping the peace in town, and the construction of roads to and from the county seat.
during the 1700s
As mentioned previously, George Washington visited
present-day Berkeley Springs several times with his halfbrother, Lawrence. When he vacationed in the area in 1767, he noted how busy the town had become. Lord Fairfax had built a summer home there and a “private bath,” making the area a popular destination for Virginia’s social elite.
As the town continued to grow, the Virginia General Assembly
decided to formally recognize it. In October 1776, the town
was officially named Bath, in honor of England’s spa city
called Bath. The town’s main north-south street was named
Washington and the main east-west street was named
Fairfax. Also, seven acres were set aside for “suffering
humanity.”
When West Virginia gained statehood, those acres
became West Virginia’s first state park.
Bath’s population increased during and immediately after
the American Revolutionary War as wounded soldiers and
others came to the area believing that the warm springs had
medicinal qualities.
Bath gained a reputation as a somewhat
wild town where eating, drinking, dancing and gambling on
the daily horse races were the order of the day. Bath later
became known as Berkeley Springs, primarily because the
town’s post office took that name (combining Governor
Norborne Berkeley’s last name with the warm springs found
there) to avoid confusion with another post office, located in
southeastern Virginia, which was already called Bath.
Because the mail was sent to and from Berkeley Springs,
that name slowly took precedence.
The Morgan County Seat
The Morgan County court met for the first time in Bath on
March 16, 1820 in Ignatious O’Ferrall’s tavern. Later meetings were held at the Buck Horn Tavern until a building was purchased for the court’s use. Initially, Morgan County’s government was dominated by Molly Abernathy and her two lawyer sons, John and Joseph.
The main order of business at that time was keeping the peace in town, and the construction of roads to and from the county seat.
When the West Virginia Constitution was put to a vote
many of Jefferson County’s citizens did not even know that
the question of whether to remain with Virginia or join the
new state of West Virginia was being put to a vote. When the
vote was taken the Union Army controlled the county and
opened just two precincts for voting. Those known to be Confederate sympathizers were under house arrest, and were
not allowed to vote. Jefferson County voted 248 for and two
against joining the new state of West Virginia.
At that time, the county had nearly 2,000 registered voters, but most of them were under house arrest.
After the war, Virginia demanded that Berkeley and
Jefferson counties be returned because they had not been a
part of the original annexation approved by Congress. Many
Jefferson and Berkeley county residents also expressed their
desire to remain a part of Virginia. As the controversy over
Berkeley and Jefferson counties continued, West Virginia’s
state legislature, in January 1865, moved the Jefferson
County seat from Charles Town to Shepherdstown, primarily
because Shepherdstown’s residents were ardent
supporters of becoming part of West Virginia.
The Shepherdstown West Virginians even had a plan to form a
new county to be called “Shepherd” if the citizens of the southern portion of the county did not comply with their wish to remain part of West Virginia. The controversy over Jefferson County’s location in West Virginia finally ended in 1866 after both the U.S. Senate and the U.S. House of Representatives ruled in favor of West Virginia’s claim to the land.
In an attempt to mollify those wanting the county to be returned to Virginia, the county seat was moved from Shepherdstown back to Charles Town.
When the county seat was moved from Shepherdstown,
the town’s residents decided to establish a school in the now
empty courthouse. The school was originally called the “Classical and Scientific Institute,” but its name was changed to Shepherd College in 1872.
In exchange for state support, Shepherd College’s trustees offered the state free access to the courthouse building. The state accepted the offer and Shepherd College became a state normal school.
In 1904, the college moved from the courthouse/McMurran Hall to a new building called “Knutti Hall,” named to honor its principal, J.G. Knutti.
Recent Important Events in Jefferson County
In 2000, Shepherdstown drew the attention of the entire
world as it hosted the latest round of the U.S.-brokered
Israeli-Syrian peace talks. The talks included Israeli Prime
Minister Ehud Barak and Syrian Foreign Minister Farouk
al-Shaara. President Bill Clinton served as mediator. The talks
did not produce any conclusive agreements, but they represented an important step toward peace.
The Jefferson County Seat
Charles Town, Jefferson County’s seat, was chartered by
the Virginia General Assembly in October 1786. It was named
in honor of Charles Washington, George Washington’s
youngest brother.
HOURS AND HOURS OF MUSIC ON EVERY BLOG OF MINE - DO COME TO VISIT!
http://thoseweremember.blogspot.com/
http://journeytosleep.blogspot.com/
http://eastermelodies.blogspot.com/
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http://allhappytalk.blogspot.com/
http://fivewaychili.blogspot.com/
http://journeytosleep.blogspot.com/
http://eastermelodies.blogspot.com/
http://christmaswiththigs.blogspot.com/
http://whyilivewhereido.blogspot.com/
http://sixtyfivealive.blogspot.com/
http://dexterspeoplerecipes.blogspot.com/
http://sweetcharityplease.blogspot.com/
http://makeitprettyplease.blogspot.com/
http://dietandmusic4weightloss.blogspot.com/
http://theycallherbreezy.blogspot.com/
http://billytipton.blogspot.com/
http://crayfishstewart.blogspot.com/
http://countrymusicforsnobs.blogspot.com/
http://poeticjustismine.blogspot.com/
http://ronsailesaway.blogspot.com/
http://poeticjustismineii.blogspot.com/
http://thigsbearalbum.blogspot.com/
http://rollwiththerecession.blogspot.com/
http://allhappytalk.blogspot.com/
http://fivewaychili.blogspot.com/
TODAY ROBIN TOLD ME THIS WAS ON A LOCAL MAGAZINE...HOORAY, ROBIN!
A gift from Richard Volpe - 1985; in his memory. Love, Diane
Some of Richard's art - my favorite was the SNOW FENCE....
One of Richard's 'block prints' ... he had many ...
A NEW LIFE Much as a newborn babe emerges from its mother, So is the journey of healing......... We leave a place that has kept us tucked away;
Sometimes not even aware of how much is out there Simply waiting to be experienced... All of a sudden what we knew as familiar is being changed;
Becoming a place that we know we must escape from. So that we might continue to live.
So through struggle, pain, and a frightening push
We emerge.... Frightened, unsure of whether we can make it on our own.
Where is the security of the cocoon we wrapped so tightly around ourselves?
Where is the familiar, although narrow place, we have been comfortable living in?
What are all these new sensations? Can't we just stay where we were?
Our mind, and body are shaken, confused, searching... At first it is unnatural to us...
Then What is that feeling? I know, it is CONNECTION It is warm, welcoming, nurturing, caring.....
We begin to relax, and respond... The trip we took to get here seems like a lifetime away..
Trust Begins... A security that you are not alone, And that you have a new journey of life to explore A knowledge that this place is much better than the last...
Because HERE you have GROWTH and LIFE; And unbelievable opportunities..
So the journey begins..
The life long search for meaningful CONNECTIONS
A place where we know that we can't survive alone any longer... And that reaching out is what the journey is really all about...
Poem written by Tina Hatcher
Note by Tina: Whether our struggle be mental, physical, spiritual , or emotional, We have choices to stay in a familiar, (yet unhealthy) place, or to reach out and make our lives better. To change what is keeping us down and holding us back.
To let others reach out to us to offer the connection we so desperately need, and to offer others the same. You are part of that connection to me, and I hope I can be the same as your friend. Tina
I love this music - jazz and blues!
1 comment:
Keep up the good work.
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