The Whitley Republican, Williamsburg, KY - Aug. 11, 1977
The Oldest Moses Says Hello To His Family
   Dear Editor:
   I would like very much to say hello to each and everyone attending the Wolf Creek reunion this beautiful year of 1977, and to express my regrets for not attending.
   I am recuperating from surgery way up here 28 miles out from Ottawa, Canada on Big Lake Kiwia.  The water is sky blue and the bass weigh 12 and 14 pounds.
   Now I would like to leave a little message with those that I love very dearly.  Love the Lord, Jesus Christ.  Serve Him so your lives may be long and happy.  When you speak, always say something nice, kind and good -- never evil.  Love one another so we can all join after this little stay on earth to the greatest reunion of all.  The earth receives our body, may our Almighty God receive our souls.
   I was 92 years old on June 9, 1977 and for the first time in 92 years I have peace of mind, I am loved and cared for by those whom I love very dearly.
   Well that's enough for this year.  I hope to see each of you next year in person.
   God bless.
Rev. Fred Moses
Route 1
Ottawa, Canada
Contributed by: Mary Lou Hudson <hudgo@medt.com>

The Whitley Republican, Williamsburg, KY - Thurs., Oct. 24, 1978
Heads or Tales/Gene Siler, Sr.
The Gathering of the Moses clan
   Tall, green mountains reach upwards toward the white cloud banks.
   Shimmering fogs cluster and linger upon the hillsides as if reluctant to leave such a pretty valley.
  Green pastures seem to tell us this is just where the Good Shepherd may have led his sheep.
   A creek gurgles its song of happiness as it meanders towards the sea hundred of miles way out yonder somewhere.
   Three quiet cemeteries continually mourn for dead folks and all of these cemeteries keep quiet vigil for some Moseses, Davenports, Ellisons, Lambdins, Coxes and Silers.
   But by far both the living and dead in this valley are mainly Moses people.
   You guessed it.  This is Wolf Creek and the Moses Reunion is at hand.
   The crowd gathers each year -- the lame, the halt, the babies, the old men and women with walking sticks, the young frisky boys and charming girls.
   Certainly they are all here.
   They came in singing their songs and picking guitars.  At midday, they stop for pies, cakes, fried corn, chicken, meat loaf and cornbread.  In fading afternoon they hug one another, shake hands and take their leave -- 200 of them -- going back to Cincinnati, Detroit, Florida, Arizona, and Chicago.
   Once each year I tell them, "I am Gene Siler Moses" and they whoop and holler as I repeat this one-day title of mine.  What a great people to take me into their clan in this manner.
   God said to Moses, "The eternal God is thy refuge and underneath are the everlasting arms."
  These Moses people seem to believe it.
Contributed by: Mary Lou Hudson <hudgo@medt.com>

The Whitley Republican, Williamsburg, KY - Aug. 19, 1976
Heads or Tales/Gene Siler, Sr.
The Moses' Family Celebrates With Music and Prayer
Luscious green mountains reach down or either side of this stream called Little Wolf and they seem to shake hands near the edge of the cool, crystal waters as they start towards the distant sea.   Certainly this creek is Little Wolf but these mountains are big and tall as giants.  Thousands of Moses people have lived in the sheltering shadows and drank from Little Wolf before it ever got contaminated by the dirty fingers of civilization.   Moses men folks either farmed the valleys or else arose before daybreak and rode their hardtail mules up the slope and thru the lofty gap over to Proctor to mine coal out of dark corridors where black gold deposits had lain dormant for thousands of years.   "You see my miner's pick tieclasp?  How many of you ever dug coal at Proctor or Kensee or some other mine in this area way back yonder?"   Hands went up all over the Moses Reunion crowd. Yes they had dug coal way back yonder.   And now Preacher Joe Moses takes out his banjo and sings "Go Down Moses."  Joe really goes after it.   "Go down Moses and tell old Pharaoh to let my people go."   As you remember, Pharaoh did in fact let the Moses people go.  And maybe that's the reason we are here today, just celebrating their freedom after all the centuries have passed by.   "This is America's Bicentennial year.  So I want to give a prize to the first one who will tell me the names of two American presidents that died on July Fourth.  There were three such presidents, but I will settle for just two names."   "John Adams and Thomas Jefferson", says a lady from New York City.  What a long distance she has come and what a vast spread both in populations and in two different ways of life.  So she will take this prize back to Gotham on the Hudson from all of us on Little Wolf Creek.   "And now someone tell me what did a certain Bible Woman named Hannah pray for and what did she promise God?  I'll give a Jesus dollar - that's a free kind of dollar -- for the right answer to that question."   "She prayed for a son and then promised to give him back to God."  "You are absolutely right.  Here's your Jesus dollar, Charles Lee.  You do know your Bible, don't you?"   Speaking of Bible knowledge, Dave Roberts told me of a preacher who told his congregation one Sunday they could read from Genesis to Revelations and would never find but one way to get to heaven and that is the straight and narrow way.   Next Sunday a man said, "Preacher, after you told about just one way to get to heaven me and Molly hunted through the bible and couldn't find a thing about that.   We read from 'Genesee to Revelo' but couldn't find it anywhere in the Book."  Probably some of these Moses people know the Bible from "Genessee to Revelo."   They are diligent students of the Word.   Isham Moses also is one of those here today.  Came all the way from Chicago.  He was a barber for 50 years before he finally folded up his razor and clippers forever.  He tells me that a Chicago haircut now costs $5.00 in some shops.   So if your local barbers, merchants, doctors and lawyers seem to be charging you high prices nowadays, just remember how prices are in Chicago and then be grateful for Wolf Creek.   Yesiree, Wolf Creek has more bargains, more beauty and more benevolence than Chicago or New York. 
Contributed by: Mary Lou Hudson <hudgo@medt.com>

The Whitley Republican, Williamsburg, KY - Aug. 18, 1977
Heads or Tales/Gene Siler, Sr.
The Moses Clan Has A Reunion
  Last report I saw showed that New York City had a police force of 29,000 men and women, Chicago had 13,000, and Cincinnati had 1,125, Louisville had 757.
   And this reminds me that the city of Williamsburg once had a force of just one man.  "Chief of Police" he was called.  But I don't know why he was called chief.  He in fact was all of it -- chief, assistant chief, mounted police, motorcycle cop, riot squad and detective bureau.
   This Williamsburg chief when I was a boy was named Lee Thomas.  He was tall and thin.  His clothes hung loosely on his spare frame and because of this situation the boys around town called him "Coat and Britches" behind his back.  Some said he could turn sideways and in this manner become a hard target to hit -- like trying to split the unseen atom.
   His salary was $75 monthly and he had to buy his own badge and uniform besides.
   The town's present outgoing chief is H.D. Moses who hopes to become High Sheriff.  If H.D. does as well as most of the Moses people I have known, he will make a big success.
   Also, two other Moses people are about to become Williamsburg professionals.  One is Dr. Bernard Moses, a physician.  The other is Dr. L.B. Moses, an undergraduate dentist, who will soon pull your teeth, fill your cavities and make you feel better.
   Sunday was the annual Moses reunion.  They always invite me to attend and you can usually find me there when the Moses people gather on Little Wolf Creek.
   One man who comes every year all the way from Chicago is Isham Moses.  He used to be a Jellico barber but now he looks like a city banker.
   Others of the Moses tribe may come from Tennessee, Ohio, Florida and elsewhere.
   They all seem to have a good time-singing, making music, talking old times and yes, eatin'.  Some are real good eaters.
   You should see what those Moses women bring to the Reunion - cornbread, chicken, pies, cakes and much, much more.
   Usually I remind the Moses people that I am a Moses one day each year.  That one day of my Moses kinship was last Sunday.
   "Didn't it rain, didn't it pour," as Johnny Moses sings in his song.  Well it certainly did rain on Little Wolf.  You can bet it just poured.  Moses means "lifted out the water".  But nobody was really lifted out of the water on Little Wolf Creek.  They stayed much of the time in the rainwater.
   They had invited me to attend and also make a speech.
   However, they do not really come to hear a speech, so I didn't make a speech.  They wish to talk among themselves and be sociable this one day in each year.
   Among the most famous of the Moses family are Grandma Moses, the famous painter, U.S. Senator Moses and Parks Commissioner Moses of New York City.
   "God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, "Moses, Moses" and he said, "Here am I."  And he said, "Draw not nigh hither.  Put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground."
   Last Sunday Little Wolf Creek was holy ground to the Moses people, even though it was wet ground.  Nevertheless, all them Moseses had a good time on Little Wolf.
Contributed by Mary Lou Hudson <hudgo@medt.com>

The Whitley Republican, Williamsburg, KY - (not dated - bet 1976-1978)
Heads Or Tales/Gene Siler
  King Mountain has been casting its benign shadow over Williamsburg since 1818, since Cox's Tavern and Cumberland River ferry were transformed to a sleepy country village called Whitley Courthouse.
  As the pyramids of Egypt overshadow the desert, so does King Mountain overshadow the river, the town, the people down at the foot of its pinnacle.
  Some years ago there was a King Grist Mill and a King Mill Dam.   But these have been swept away in the floodtides of progress.
  I think it would be quite an honor to have a mountain or a mill or a dam named after your family.   All three of these carry or once carried the name of this King family.   So the Kings have a threefold honor.
  Don Longworth, who is a half King, today brought me a picture of the wife and eight children of Dolphus King, his grandfather.   These have now made their last journey across Cumberland River -- all but Nan King Jones who still survives at Wofford.
  In the picture you will see standing, left to right, George King, Frank King, Sid King, Nan Jones,Carrie Longworth, Ed King, and seated, Mary Tuggle, Margaret King, the mother, and Henry King with his fierce moustache.
  And now I must tell you about Henry King, who ran the mill, who was an orchardist, who was a lawyer.
  Well of course I did not say he looked like a lawyer -- certainly not.   How can a man run a grist mill, take care of an orchard and still look like a lawyer.   Can't be done.
  But you know there are three kinds of lawyers -- the lubstery courtroom lawyer -- the bookish office lawyer -- the yarn-gallused lawyer, who communicates well with the people and spends much of his time on the streets.   Henry King was a yarn-gallused lawyer.   Henry Gillis was a bookish lawyer.   R.L. Pope was a blustery lawyer.   All of these Lawyers once practiced law here in Williamsburg.
  If you can find some lawyer with all three of these traits -- blustery, bookish, yarn-gallused -- you are pretty apt to win your case.   You will have a dangerous advocate in court.
  My father was somewhat blustery, somewhat bookish and raised on Tackett Creek so as to enable him to communicate with the people.   He was also an excellent business man and could scent a lawyer fee or a successful business enterprise like a hound scents a fox up on King Mountain.
  Some days ago a man brought me several documents and asked me to unravel the situation and explain it to him.   Then he remarked, "I never knowed anything about law - always worked for my living."
  It was quite a slur on lawyers, people who didn't work, but I ignored this and helped him unravel his ball of twine.
  Some lawyers, like Henry King, did actually work for a living, like my client had in mind.
  But mainly Henry left us King Mountain, King Mill, King Dam and so the King family has this threefold honor.
  Ernest King was a famous US Admiral in World War II, Rufus King was a signer of the US Constitution, Starr King was a mighty preacher and orator,   William R. King was a US Vice President and Dolphus King was the father of our Whitley County Kings.
  Long live the Kings, especially our own Kings!!!!!
Contributed by Mary Lou Hudson <hudgo@medt.com>

The Whitley Republican, Williamsburg, KY - June 16, 1977
   Mrs. Matilda Young, 82, formerly of Whitley County, died June 13 in Henderson.
   She is survived by six sons: Kelly Young, Dulia Young and Kenneth Young, all of Henderson; Lloyd Young, Evansville, Ind.; Thomas Young and Walter Young, both of Robards; and two daughters; Mary Fox, Henderson; and Ruth Faulkner, Glendale, Calif.; 18 grandchildren; 10 great-grandchildren; and a sister, Mary Trosper, Harlan.
   Graveside services were held June 15 at the Craig Chapel Cemetery, with the Rev. Rollie Stone officiating
Contributed by Mary Lou Hudson <hudgo@medt.com>

The Whitley Republican, Williamsburg, KY - March 24, 1977
Heads or Tales/Gene Siler, Sr.
A Friend Named Finley
   He was a one-legged man who had lost the other leg working in the coal mines many many years ago.  So he used a makeshift leg made out of iron and fixed so his left knee would rest on a cushion support.  The upper leg was strapped around an iron extension of the artificial limb and the whole thing seemed to make a reasonably good substitute for the missing leg.
   His name was Finley Huddleston, a very good name, but I much disliked hearing him called Pegleg or Peg, which is a common and cruel nickname for a person with this handicap.
   Now Finley usually hunted me up when he would come to town on Saturdays.
   "Well, Finley, what do you need today?"
   I never embarrassed him by forcing him to beg me for anything at any time.  I was one jump ahead of him.
   "A twist of tobacco would suit me just fine".
   "You bet your life I've got a quarter for your twist of tobacco.
   "It's like this, Finley.  Some of these big fellows around Williamsburg can get in their cars and roll down to Florida to play golf and have fun.  You can't do that.  You just get your recreation from a twist of tobacco and I'm all for it.  As long as you live, I will buy you a twist when you need it from me."
   And I did this for Finley until rigor mortis took over his frail body some years later.
   Miss Anna Mae Boyd was my secretary and she was always kind to Finley and treated him with courtesy and respect.
   Once he told me "the lady who works for you is not ashamed to speak to me on the street or just anywhere.  She is nice to me.
   "Of course she is not ashamed to speak to you, Finley.  I wouldn't want her to work for me if she wasn't nice to you."
   There came a day when Finley brought a woman to me on the street and introduced her as "the widder he was going to marry soon."
   They were both shy on this subject, but I told them it sounded like a good idea and hoped they would be happy in their marriage.
   About a couple of weeks later, Finley came in and wanted me to write a letter to the widder for him.
   I wrote the letter and told her, "I have missed you something awful and hope to see you soon."
   "And now Finley you want me to tell her you love her."
   "Do you think I ort to tell her that?"
   "Of course, of course,"
   Then I added another line to what I had written to the widder.  "And I love you very much."
   Later Finley told me she liked that letter.
   From time to time I asked him about the widder.
   Then one day he told me she "took down sick".
   Next time I inquired about Finley's lady friend, she had died.
   It was a shattered, unfulfilled romance.
   "Full many a flower is born to blush unseen and waste it sweetness on the desert air."
   Finley's romance was born to blush unseen.  It was not meant to be I suppose.
   I kept missing Finley on Saturdays in town.
   Finally I saw his son and inquired about Finley.
   "Well, Pa died some time ago.  We had his funeral and buried him."
   "I wish I had known.  I would have attended his funeral.  He was my friend."
   "Shore.  I knowed he was.  He talked about and said you had been a good friend to him."
   Finley Huddleston, a one-legged coal miner who was my friend.
   And now the Lord will supply all his needs
Contributed by Mary Lou Hudson <hudgo@medt.com>

Fayetteville Democrat, Fayetteville, AR - March 13, 1911
2 Slain On Trains
Deputies and Negro Firemen Fall in Strike War Shot From Mountain Sides Hidden Riflemen Bring Down Victims as Engines Speed By.   Traffic on Queen and Crescent Line Is Finally Halted -- Armed Men Search Cabs of Locomotives for Negroes at Different Stations in Kentucky -- Engineers, Warned by Threats to Use Dynamite, Refuse to Work.
Special to The Washington Post.   Somerset, Ky., March 12. 
The crisis in the strike of white firemen on the Queen and Crescent route of the Cincinnati Southern Railway was reached at Somerset and Glenmary, Tenn., today, when two deputy sheriffs and four negro firemen were added to the six already slain by sympathizers of the strikes.   Shots fired from the mountainside as the trains were speeding past brought the officials of the road to the conclusion that it was a useless sacrifice of life to attempt to continue running trains.  All traffic along the road from Somerset to Chattanooga is tonight at a standstill.   
Armed Guards Fired Upon.  
Following the attacks on trains yesterday scores of railroad detectives were mustered into duty and every freight and passenger engine carried, as guard, at least two armed men.   The first outbreak today occurred at Glenmary, Tenn.   James Carl, a detective on southbound freight No. 78, was picked out by mountain marksmen as the train was making 30 miles per hours, and shot above the heart.  Almost simultaneously the negro fireman, whom Carl was protecting, fell upon the pile of coal he was shoveling, a bullet through his brain.   The injured man was taken off at Oakdale, Tenn., and rushed to the hospital here where he lies in a critical condition.  The body of the negro was taken to Chattanooga.  
Deputy Sheriffs Killed.   
H.M. Holloway, deputy sheriff and Queen and Crescent Railroad detective, was shot about 8 o'clock tonight, at the town of Stearns, while on guard at the company's coal shutes.  About half an hour later, Deputy Sheriff County Lovett (sic), who was also on guard at Stearns, was found shot through the head.   Kings Mountain, some distance from Stearns, was the scene of a double killing at about the same time.  Two negro firemen were shot on trains proceeding through the village.   Every station south of here is lined with strike sympathizers, and at every step, even at water tanks, armed men have examined engine cabs for negroes.  Many of the latter are kept at work by threats of detectives.   At stops along the line they are hidden in the tender while white men stand guard.   All along the line mountain sympathizers with the firemen are stationed within shooting distance of the railroad and every train that passes is fired upon.   
Engineers Refuse to Work
Warning that bridges would be dynamited indirectly reached the officials of the road, and this rumor, together with the constant danger under which they are working since the strike opened Thursday, tonight brought engineers to the point of quitting the throttle. They have notified the officials that the risk is too great, and they will not move a wheel even under guard.   Brakemen on the line also delivered an ultimatum, in which they said that unless the company took steps to remedy the situation at once they would strike in sympathy with the firemen.   Several machinists of this city have been discharged because they refused to take the place of the strikers have appealed to their union, and as a result the machinists may follow suit.
Contributed by:  Mary Lou Hudson