I do things different. It helps to remind yourself of that when you’re threatening a government official with a stick of dynamite as you’re making a down payment on a national park.
19
I do things different.
It helps to remind
yourself of that
when you realize
that you’re an axe
and not a chain saw
after all.
February 7, 1935
Dear Mary Elizabeth, aka Puss,
Thanks for writing! New York City—boy, I had no idea Jeremiah Butler’s eggs were world travelers! Next time you write back, send the letter to my new address in Knoxville, Tennessee. My family—well, just my mama and me—moved out of Cades Cove in January to join my pop at long last. Pop works in a textile mill here.
You’re dead on—it’s a big honor to have our home made into the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I won’t tell you no tall tales—it hasn’t been all shortcake and roses. But Cades Cove is right near heaven, if you ask me. And who doesn’t need a little heaven now and again? So I’ve decided to share.
Most of my neighbors have moved, too. It’s been mighty tough, having the friends and family I’ve known my whole life scattered around like dandelion seeds. Some folks still live in the Cove, though. They pay rent to live there, and once they die, no one will ever live there again.
I’ve been raising money in my school to help keep Cades Cove as durn near perfect as possible. These are hard times, but the kids bring pennies (and sometimes even nickels!) to class, and we give it to the Park Service. Other schools all around the state started doing it, too, and so far we’ve collected $1,391.72. If you want to gather pennies at your school, I’d be much obliged. Imagine a New York penny all the way to Cades Cove!
Since I’m not in the Cove anymore, I’m not sure I’d make much of a tour guide. (Though I plan to visit a lot.) My best friend, Cody, still lives there, though, and I know he’d be more than willing to show a redheaded city girl like yourself around. Cody wants to live in the Cove until he’s forced to leave, which the park rules say would be when his aunt Matilda kicks. But Aunt Matilda is healthier than a spoonful of castor oil and more stubborn than a nail in hardwood pine. I’m guessing he’ll be there till 1983!
Cades Cove isn’t a city, like you said in your letter. It’s smaller than a bug’s ear. But in my heart, it’s huge. And it’s true there’s just one road in and out of Cades Cove. But a clever enough person ought to know: saying there’s just one road ain’t the same as saying there’s just one way to get there.
My best to you and yours (what does that mean, anyways?),
Autumn Winifred Oliver, Knoxville, Tennessee P.S. Do you like to roller-skate? I’m about the world’s best roller skater on wheels.
P.P.S. I’m not a redhead. But I do do things diferent.
Author’s Note
I agree with Autumn: Cades Cove—heck, the whole Great Smoky Mountains National Park!—is right near heaven. Soft, rolling mountains, towering trees, blue-gray wisps of clouds that kiss the tops of both...I can just hear Gabriel’s horn tooting from atop Mount LaConte!
That’s why I decided to tell this story. Because while Autumn Winifred Oliver is a fictional character, the many Cades Cove girls and boys, mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers were very real. The Great Smoky Mountains National Park is the only national park formed from privately owned land. Hundreds of families gave up the houses and farms they’d lived on their whole lives so the land could become a park. They did so even after they had been told for many years “not to fear”—their land was not to be included in the park but would instead border it. These families of eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina decided to share the beauty of their home with everyone in the world. It was not easy, and the families were often not treated fairly. But because of their generosity, the Great Smoky Mountains National Park is now the most-visited national park in the United States. And Cades Cove is the most-visited section of the park.
There was an Oliver family, and it was a prominent one in Cades Cove history. John Oliver was one of the most vocal opponents of the park. Originally, Mr. Oliver supported the idea. Like Gramps, he had dreams of becoming wealthy from tourists flocking to the area. (There really was a sign like the one posted on the fence post in Chapter Six!) But when Cades Cove suddenly became part of the park (instead of next to it, as was originally planned), he quickly changed his mind and spent the rest of his life—and much of his personal savings—fighting the national park.
And there really was a Colonel David Chapman. I would like to stress that he was not an evil man—far from it. For this story, I tried to see Colonel Chapman as the residents of Cades Cove—specifically, Autumn—might’ve seen him. Indeed, the fact that Cove people truly despised Colonel Chapman was no secret; in one instance when the colonel was known to be visiting the Cove, this sign greeted his party:
Col. Chapman you and hoast are notfy, let the Cove peopl alone. Get Out. Get Gone. 40 m. limit.
But Colonel Chapman was a man of great civic duty, and his contributions to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park are unparalleled. Without him, there might be no national park. Most likely the land would’ve fallen into the hands of loggers, and the Cove and its unique culture would’ve been lost to the teeth of a chain saw. It is unclear from my research exactly how Cades Cove became a part of the park instead of bordering it, but that is not the fault of just one man.
The park founders had enough foresight to realize that once Cades Cove and the surrounding areas became swamped with tourists, the unique lifestyle the residents had developed would quickly disappear. They took painstaking measures to preserve the lifestyle in print. Interviewers toured the region for years, recording the history of the area. They captured everything, from the types of clothes the mountain folk wore to the types of games they played. It’s a time capsule of sorts, and it’s all located in a park library in the Sugarlands Visitor Center near Gatlinburg.
In fact, some of the adventures Autumn undertakes truly did happen to real people. The story of Autumn propping open the mouths of geese with tiny sticks was just too good to make up!
The people of Cades Cove were both superstitious and religious. This is a unique combination of beliefs, and I’ve tried to capture that fully. I’ve also tried to accurately depict the geography and cultural flavor of Cades Cove. All of the last names in the text were “borrowed” from Cove history. Any mistakes are fully mine.
And speaking of “mistakes”... the time line of this story was compressed to cover the last half of 1934. It actually took many years to form the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Negotiations for land began as early as 1927, and the official dedication of the park by Franklin Delano Roosevelt didn’t occur until September 2, 1940. But he did meander through the park and ruffle the hair of the children!
Schoolchildren did raise funds for the park by bringing pennies and nickels to school. The total Autumn mentions in her letter to Puss ($1,391.72) was the money raised in Tennessee alone. Of the schools that participated, the average child donated thirty-one cents. That may not sound like a lot now, but this was during the Great Depression, and thirty-one cents could buy a writing tablet, several pencils, some chewing gum, and some candy!
The people of Cades Cove were fiercely loyal to the government of the United States. During the Civil War, many families in east Tennessee, including most of those in Cades Cove, declared themselves Unionist—a very dangerous thing for them to do in a Confederate state. And yet just seventy-five years later—within the span of one lifetime—the country that they loved so much left them all but homeless, giving them no choice but to forfeit the land they’d always owned.
Cades Cove is a pristine example of pioneer life even today. The families who lived there had the honor of having their land and their lifestyles preserved. The Cove is today just shy of hallowed ground, hosting more than two million visitors each year. You, t
oo, could plan a visit and check out the places where kids like Autumn prayed, slept, and, yes, relieved themselves.
Kristin O’Donnell Tubb
KRISTIN O’DONNELL TUBB
grew up in east Tennessee, near Cades Cove.
“Autumn’s story came to me when I was on a guided
tour of Great Smoky Mountains National Park,”
she says. “There we were, standing in what was once
someone’s home, and I thought: What if my home
became a national park? How does something like that
even happen? When I did a little research, I discovered
the fascinating history of the people of Cades Cove.”
Kristin lives in middle Tennessee with her
husband and two children.
Published by Delacorte Press
an imprint of Random House Children’s Books
a division of Random House, Inc.
New York
This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all
characters with the exception of some well-known historical and public figures, are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical or public figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2008 by Kristin O’Donnell Tubb
All rights reserved.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Tubb, Kristin O’Donnell.
Autumn Winifred Oliver does things different / Kristin O’Donnell Tubb. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Autumn Winifred Oliver, an eleven-year-old girl living in Cades Cove, Eastern Tennessee, during the Depression, watches her grandfather as he tries to persuade his neighbors to back the proposed Great Smoky Mountains National Park, but when they discover that the government representative is lying to them, Gramps becomes even more resourceful. Includes author’s note about the history of the park. Includes bibliographical references.
[1. Grandfathers—Fiction. 2. Depressions—1929—Fiction. 3. Country life— Tennessee—Fiction. 4. Great Smoky Mountains National Park (N.C. and Tenn.)—Fiction. 5. Tennessee—History—20th Century—Fiction.]
PZ7.T796Au 2008
[Fic]—dc22
2007037411
Random House Children’s Books supports the
First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
eISBN: 978-0-375-89134-2
v3.0
Autumn Winifred Oliver Does Things Different Page 13