A Bird on Water Street
Page 16
Much of the local history is preserved at the Ducktown Basin Museum, where visitors can see truly shocking photos of the once-denuded landscape and schedule tours of the tailings ponds to observe reclamation efforts firsthand. Ironically, much of the region is now wetlands. Reeds and grasses act as nature’s filtration process and now cover the once-polluted area.
Wildlife is slowly returning, even frogs.
Along with a complicated history, the Appalachian Mountains are home to a fascinating culture. Because of their inaccessibility, mountain communities evolved independent from outside influences, becoming living examples of their European—most notably Celtic—ancestry. It influenced their stories and especially their music, which was the foundation for today’s bluegrass. The thick Elizabethan dialects, long lost to the rest of the world, could make a voice sound like a bagpipe with a long continuous drawl. And whereas most Southerners say “y’all,” in the mountains they say “yu’uns.”
“The Jack Tales” are an important part of Jack Hicks’s story as well as mine. Rooted in European fairy tales like “Jack and the Beanstalk,” the stories changed and adapted in the Appalachian Mountains and became tales wholly American. The epicenter of the Jack Tales was on Beech Mountain in North Carolina where Ray Hicks (August 29, 1922–August 20, 2003) lived and was named a national treasure as Keeper of the Jack Tales. I was lucky to hear him tell those tales in person on several occasions at the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee. For more on my personal history with Jack Tales, visit my blog, dulemba.blogspot.com and search “Jack Tales.”
While living in the Copper Basin, my husband and I had the privilege to meet some true mountain folks, great-great-grandsons and great-great-granddaughters of the miners who had such an impact on the history there. We were touched by the loyalty and openness we found once we’d been accepted as friends. We were graced with their hospitality, their stories, and especially their music.
When the first edition of A Bird on Water Street was released in 2014, I had the great pleasure of sharing the book with the Appalachian community from Benton, Tennessee, to Blue Ridge, Georgia. I was humbled and honored to have created something that became bigger than myself, something that the local people were proud of and claimed as a valued representation of their history.
Even more than that, I was honored to create a story that makes people think and perhaps become better stewards of the earth and our precious resources in the future.
The Copper Basin
Copper mining in the Southern Appalachians began in 1843 and ran almost continuously until 1986. While there were several companies operating, two main companies were in control of the basin during the late nineteenth century to early twentieth century—the Ducktown Sulfur, Copper & Iron Company (headquarter in Isabella, Tennessee) and the Tennessee Copper Company (headquarter in Copperhill, Tennessee). Together, they owned and operated ten separate ore bodies, or mines, in the area. Eventually the Tennessee Copper Company bought Ducktown in 1936.
The ore bodies contained iron, zinc, and copper sulfides, but prior to 1909, both companies only had the technology to remove the copper from the ground. The iron and zinc were dumped in the slag (or waste) from copper smelting. By the 1920s, all three metals were being extracted from the ore bodies in the basin.
By the 1870s, the Copper Basin was stripped completely bare of trees, and the toxic fumes of sulfur dioxide created acid rain, which killed off the remaining vegetation. The area remained devoid of vegetation for over a hundred years. While some reclamation efforts began as early as 1929, most of the land was not successfully reclaimed until 1981.
Images from the Copper Basin
The Ducktown Sulfur, Copper & Iron Company’s smelting works, circa 1890s. The plant’s headquarters were in Isabella, Tennessee, and sat at the junction of two hollows.
The DSC&IC train up front is carrying ore waiting to be smelted or quartz, which was used to help the smelters run smoothly.
A section of the plant in Isabella, Tennessee, circa 1920s. The train moved ore from the DSC&IC mines for copper extraction. Miner homes and the Union Methodist Church are in the background. The church also served as a school building, and has a “spirit hole” similar to the one Jack noticed during Mrs. Ledford’s funeral.
Aerial view of the Mary Mine and Mill, owned by the DSC&IC, circa 1920. Visible are the mill (center), various support and supply buildings, and a few miner residences.
Miners running a machine drill to create tunnels for ore extraction. Being a driller was a high-paying job and one of the best in the mines. In the nineteenth century, drilling was done by hand, holding a piece of steel against the rock and hitting it with a hammer.
The technology used in the Copper Basin mines was innovative for its time, although by today’s standards it was very dangerous. The danger was twofold—running the machine in such an enclosed space meant a miner was at risk of injury either from the machine itself or from rocks falling from overhead.
Miners in front of a “grizzly,” where ore cars are loaded from different sections of the mine. They are standing on the twentieth level, which was about two thousand feet below ground.
Tennessee Copper Company in Copperhill, Tennessee, circa 1943. About one-third of the surrounding towns of Copperhill, McCaysville, Ducktown, and Isabella worked for the Company.
Aerial view of the McPherson area in 1944. The McPherson mine is in the center, surrounded by some of the rail lines and roads that connect the site to other mines. The upper left corner shows a portion of a tailings pond and the small cracks along the land are gullies from erosion. The larger cracks are “cuts,” or the exposed tops of ore deposits, where mining could once be done from the surface instead of going underground. Notice how bare the landscape is—there were no trees, no bugs, and no birds for fifty square miles.
Houses miners would rent from the Company. These homes were abandoned, and families were moved to new homes, after a section of the Boyd Mine collapsed in the early 1960s.
1980
2004
2012
The Burra Burra mine collapse from the viewing platform at the Ducktown Basin Museum in Ducktown, TN, showing the progression of nature moving back in over time. The area around the collapse was intentionally unreclaimed because of the danger of a further cave-in, but also because it shows a clear “before” and “after” contrast to appreciate.
Acknowledgments
Most of Jack’s experiences have a thread of truth running through them; they were gathered through interviews spanning nearly a decade.
For helping me gather history, stories, and flavor, as well as offering their friendship, I’d especially like to thank: sisters Grace Postelle and Doris Abernathy, without whom I could not have written this book; Howard Slaughter; John Quinn; Leland Rymer; Mathew Maloof (he and his friends used to jump off trestle bridges when the trains came); Greg Barker (his father, Gene Barker, was one of the last three men—along with Danny “Red” Dilbeck and Eugene Trammell—out of the copper mines when they closed, before the tunnels were flooded to prevent future collapses); Toni and Walter Bahn; Lynne and Jim Jones; Lisa and Brad Waggoner; Debbie and J. Hammock; John Thomas; Dick and Judy Spencer; Kay Kendall; Tina Hanlon; the Three Wise Men (the inspiration for Coote); Richard McCay Wagner; and finally, Mrs. Helen McCay Wagner (1912–1996), who originally saw that bird on Water Street in 1924.
I’d like to thank my writerly friends—those subjected to early drafts or who helped with sound writing advice: Vicky Alvear Shecter, Karin Slaughter, Jen Weiss Handler, Jessica Handler, Courtney Miller-Callihan, Lisa Jacobi, Kirby Larson, Jennifer Jabaley, and my dear friend Liz Conrad (may she rest in peace).
For helping me with accuracy and information while writing A Bird on Water Street, I’d like to thank: Ken Rush, the director of the Ducktown Basin Museum; Dawna Standridge, Shelby Standridge Sisson, and Joyce Allen, also of
the museum; Nick Wimberley, former secretary/treasurer and negotiator for the International Brotherhood of Boilermakers; Alan Gratz for baseball specifics; Mia Manekofsky for genre guidance; Rod Walton, Lisa Ganser, and Fred Ming for information about frogs; Lou Laux and Tom Striker for information on birds; and former Fannin County sheriff George Ensley for research about cannabis-growing in the Appalachians. The sparrow song description was found in American Birds in Color, written by Hal H. Harrison (New York: Wm. H. Wise & Co., Inc., 1948).
Any mistakes made in this book are wholly my own in my attempt to relay the feeling of the place, time, and events rather than exact facts. As they say, “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.” As such, I must thank my readers, the librarians, and residents of the tristate region who supported the first release of A Bird on Water Street. During the initial book tour, I heard even more of their amazing stories about the history of the area and was humbled to learn that I made them proud.
I’d like to thank the barrel of pickles at Little Pickle Press who published the first edition of A Bird on Water Street: Rana DiOrio, Dani Greer, Molly Glover, Julie Romeis Sanders, Cameron Crane, Kelly Wickham, Heather Lennon, and especially my editor Tanya Egan Gibson, who made the book truly shine.
And I’d like to thank the good folks at Sourcebooks, the new home for A Bird on Water Street, for believing in the story and breathing new life into its design and outreach: Kelly Barrales-Saylor, Bunmi Ishola, Michelle Lecuyer, Eliza Smith, Travis Hasenour, and Jordan Kost. It takes a village to raise a child, and it takes an inspired team of people to create a book that endures. I am forever grateful to you all.
Last, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank Stan. I am lucky to have a husband who believes in me, my craft, and my crazy ideas. Without his support, I would not be the creator I am today. Love you, sweetie.
Discussion Questions
1. How would you describe Jack? How is he similar to and/or different from his dad, his mom, and Piran? Which character did you relate to the most, and what was it about them that you connected with?
2. Describe Coppertown. What makes the setting unique or important to the story? How does the setting help to shape Jack’s life and define him as a character? How does the setting shape other characters and their experiences?
3. The author did a lot of research on the Copper Basin to help create authentic setting, events, and characters. Look through the book for details that seem to reflect facts. What are the most interesting facts you learned about the region and everyday life in Tennessee Appalachia?
4. Jack comes from a long line of copper miners. Both of his grandfathers were miners, and his uncles and dad are miners. How do Jack’s feelings about being a miner differ from his dad’s? Are there any members of Jack’s family who feel the same as he does about the mines?
5. Many things that we use every day (like toothpaste) start with copper mining. Do you think there are some products that excuse the damage that comes from mining? Are there items you’d be willing to live without?
6. Mining isn’t the only human activity that has led to environmental devastation. Can you think of other ways our actions have destroyed the environment? Are there any examples near where you live?
7. When the author was interviewing locals who grew up in the “red hills” like Jack, many of them were quite proud of the barren landscape and loved it. Can you make positive arguments for the ruined landscape?
8. When things started going wrong for the miners, they turned to the Union for help. What were the goals they hoped the Union would achieve? Do you think the Union was successful? What challenges did the Union face?
9. When the miners go on strike and the mines stop production, Jack begins to notice a lot of change in Coppertown. What are some of the positive effects of the mines being closed? What are some of the negative effects?
10. At the end of the book, Jack’s father and his crew are able to find work at a carpet mill over an hour away from Coppertown. What did you think about them choosing to stay in town and drive that far for work? How do you think this solution will help or hurt Jack’s family? How might it hurt or help Coppertown?
11. What are some of the ways Jack tries to help his family, his community, and the environment throughout the book? Does Jack actually have the power to bring change? What would you do to help if you were in a similar situation?
12. How does the book’s title relate to its contents? If you could give it a new title, what might you choose?
13. What do you think is the big takeaway message from A Bird on Water Street?
14. Do you think that A Bird on Water Street is ultimately a story of hope? Why or why not?
15. Do you think this book can or will change the way people think about and treat the environment? Why or why not?
About the Author
Elizabeth O. Dulemba is an award-winning author, illustrator, teacher, and speaker (including a TEDx talk). She has more than two dozen books to her credit, most recently illustrating New York Times bestselling author Jane Yolen’s MerBaby’s Lullaby and On Eagle Cove. Her debut novel, A Bird on Water Street has garnered fourteen literary awards and honors, including Georgia Author of the Year and a Green Earth Book Award Honor.
Elizabeth holds a BFA in graphic design from the University of Georgia and an MFA in illustration from the University of Edinburgh. She is continuing her PhD research in children’s literature at the University of Glasgow (Scotland) while starting a new position as associate professor of illustration at Winthrop University in Rock Hill, South Carolina. In the summers, she travels to Roanoke, Virginia, where she is visiting associate professor at Hollins University in the low-residency MFA program in writing and illustrating children’s books.
Elizabeth spent several years as illustrator coordinator for the southern region of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI), and as a board member for the Georgia Center for the Book. Prior to her career in children’s literature, she was a corporate art director and in-house illustrator for packaging, apparel, and communications firms. She grew up in the American South; lived in Edinburgh, Scotland, for four years; and now lives in Rock Hill, South Carolina, with her husband, Stan.
Visit dulemba.com to learn more and sign up for “e’s news.”