Wednesday, May 27, 2009


In Louise Bailey’s Remembering Henderson County, the author recreates the past with affection, nostalgia and humor. To me, reading any of her books (I’ve located six of them) is akin to sitting on my porch in the evening while the light fades and the hectic noise of traffic recedes, until it could easily be a century ago; rain crows call and the night wind is freighted with honeysuckle. Now, all I need is a cool sip of spring water from a gourd dipper. For me a few pages of Louise Bailey's writing is easily the equivalent of a cool, refreshing drink. I’m a little anxious about the results though. After reading Louise, I tend to get a bit “fanciful.” This is an example.

In the chapter entitled, “Who Are We Western North Carolinians?” Louise describes a conversation with a farmer near Flat Rock who bought one of the first Model T trucks (circa 1915) so he could haul produce to Laurens, South Carolina. “It had solid tires on the back and pneumatic tires on the front.” This model had no windshield and no curtains; consequently, on a hot summer night, a steady stream of bugs and insects peppered the passengers’ faces.

The farmer’s first run to Laurens was memorable. The roads were washboards and gullies that could easily warp an axle, and heavy rains often made them impassible or dangerous. Average speed was ten mph. However, the most interesting aspect of the journey was the return trip. “The way the lights worked, if you had the motor running real fast, you had good light.” Inevitably, the T-model would, of necessity, slow and the lights would dim and go out.

It is easy to imagine what this trip would be like in moonlight. Progress would be slow, but what a wonderful experience, puttering through the moonlight … a kind of magical, dream-light landscape. Ah, but for this weary farmer, there is no moon. He stops and sleeps fitfully until daylight.

For me, this wonderful description of an interrupted journey reminded me of all of those analogies in literature for the creative impulse or revelation. I remember some old German poet that told a story that is similar to Louise Bailey’s description of a night journey home from Laurens.

The German poet was lost in “a dark wood,” and very frightened because a storm was brewing. Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning, and in that instant, the traveler saw the distant village, the church steeple and the roof of his own home. When he was once more in darkness, he retained a memory of where he was going and how he could get there. There are other famous brief “flashes of lightning” or momentary insights in which weary, disheartened travelers and poets suddenly “see" a world behind the darkness.

Maybe I’m getting a little carried away here, and I am definitely “embellishing” Louise’s story. However, I like the image of a Model T truck puttering through the dark at ten mph. The lights have gone out, but for a moment,the moon swims from the clouds into the open sky and the Model T truck travels for a short time by moonlight. Yes, I am “pushing the envelope” here, but that seems to be an apt analogy for a writer.

To me, “traveling by moonlight” in a Model T is profoundly different from traveling by daylight or its artificial equivalent (electricity). Maybe if I sit still on my porch tonight, maybe if I play a little Nina Simone, drink a little spring water and concentrate, I can, for a brief moment, be a passenger in Louise Bailey’s Model T. I’ll let you know what happens.


  1. What a lovely image -- traveling by brief flashes of light! Not unlike Life, its ownself.

  2. I've gotten that one and Draw Up A Chair read!
    I love her books! I had already read From Rock Hill to Connemara before I went to Flat Rock. What others have you located?
    I am in the middle of Maurice Stanleys'
    " Nance Dude " , God what some people do to their children! I feel so sorry for her at this point. I may change my mind later.

  3. You do know that I have a play based on Maurice's novel, don't you? It has been produced over 100 times and will be done in Highlands next month, maybe for the last time. But, how about the analogy
    in this tale with "revelation"?