The Devil Rode Shotgun

By Rhandy Barnett

I remember we were riding up to Keystone, and its not very far from Welch. Now you must remember Im in junior high school, just in the 8th grade, just 14 years old. Were heading to a whore house for the first time, where my Uncles, Dad and cousins have been going to in years gone by. (I only heard this.) Im not sure about it. I thought it was pretty nostalgic. I remembered Dad had taken me there when I was a young boy, looking for Lynn Ray. We make a right onto the circle in Cinder Bottom. Later I found out the other boys were just as scared as I was because it was their first time also. Johns brother drives very slowly and women start coming up and leaning on the car. I do recall this very thing happening on my first visit. Roll the window down, stop the car and come on in We got something for you. These were all black women.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 31, 2011
• ISBN: 9781463424725

Rhandy Barnett

I live in Princeton, WV. My wife and I moved to Princeton after spending three years in Lakeland Fla. Prior to moving to Lakeland, we lived in Welch WV., for 7 years. I lived about thirty years in Bluefield, WV. My first 16 years were in McDowell County. I grew up in a coal mining camp. I spent ten years in Jenkinjones WV., and six years living at #13 Gary. I attended Gary High School until the 11th grade and then transferred to Bluefield High School. I went to Concord College in West Virginia on a football scholarship. I did not graduate at that time. I worked for eight years as a banker. I worked two years as a coal miner. I did not see how all of my family turned out to be coal miners. I determined I didn’t want to make my living in a cold dark mine! So I devised other means of making money-thus the colorful and often dangerous life that I led. I later attended Bluefield State and received a B.S. in education. I then became a teacher and a coach in Mercer County. I was married for 19 years and then divorced. I lived all by myself for 5 years and then married again. Karen and I have been married for 16 happy years! I’ve done it all and I describe it in detail herein! This is my story! Believe it or not!

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Chapter 1

—Spice

I’m standing in the court-room waiting for the judge to sentence me for embezzlement, thinking to myself, how in the hell did I get into this mess? I’m 29 years old, what in my life or my past brought me here? I start thinking back over my history and the history of my family, trying to figure out how the past had influenced me. My family’s history as told to me has always been a colorful one, fraught with murder, prejudice, gambling, drinking, womanizing, and deceit! Herein lie’s the story!

Three riders top the hill, they are on horseback, they are black, one is carrying a bloody axe, they are moving at a very fast clip. This is what Uncle Newwart said he saw! He was very young at the time. They are men he has seen before, and he is sure of that!

To try and get this thing started out with a boom, I will relate to you what was told to me, by my grandmother. My own mother was in the room at the time, and I could not believe Mama was telling me this story! The three black men beat great granddad in the head to a bloody mess! My great grandmother, his wife rode out and found him first. It was an awful site to behold! I will relate the story a little bit more in a couple more paragraphs. First I’ll give you a little background on Mama and Papa. My Grandmother and Grandfather, Dessie and Ben Clay were married around 1925. When they got married Papa owned a horse called Travelin Nance and they rode it everywhere they would go. I can hear Mama talking about going through creeks and the water would splash on them and drench them. I can hardly visualize riding a horse to Anawalt from Jenkinjones or vice-versa. My problem is just riding a horse anywhere would be a problem. I don’t like the animal, it makes me sneeze. They actually had a road from Anawalt to Jenkinjones in 1925. At around, according to Robert Presley, who gave me this information, 1917 a Dr. Castorale tried unsuccessfully to get the county commission in Welch, to build a road from Anawalt to Jennkinjones, unsuccessfully. A bunch of prisoners did build the road at that time. They say it was just a horse path and the prisoners’ widened it with picks and shovels. Some people said it was the same path Indians used in their day! My Papa was known to make shine, actually, my Papa made moonshine all the time and told the boys he would teach them to make it, but Mama never let that happen! She pretty much ran the family and told Papa what he could or could not do! They were very poor at that stage of the game, she permitted him to make shine cause they had no other means of income. She really did not have a choice, it was make it, or see her family starve. At that time jobs were hard to come by. Papa said if you were down and out, it was a good way to get quick money. I know for a fact he was arrested in Welch around 1918 for selling and making moonshine at the ripe old age of 12. Can you even imagine making and selling shine at that age? He was put in jail! Mack said that Papa had his first suit at that age, to go to court in; the suit was bought by a man by the name of Jack Clay, some kin of his. I once drank a beer with Papa and I never in my lifetime saw anyone drink a beer so fast, it was unbelievable! He said that Keystone was in operation in the 20’s and 30’s and he had visited it as early as 15 years old. Papa also told me that there was a possibility that we might be kin to John Brown, the guy Robert E. Lee captured at Harpers Ferry. Papa said that Brown married a woman by the name of Marie Clay and they had something like 12 kids. I never checked it out though, for fear he may be right! Times were hard then and very few people owned a car, Papa said he rode a horse to any place he wanted to go. He said everybody was poor. My Papa was a hard type of individual; he was a good worker and took real good care of his family. It seemed as though everyone loved Papa. My dad loved to tell this story on Mama, and she didn’t take to it good either. My Mama, hated my dad, but as you will find later on, had good reasons for her hatred! He talked about mama getting drunk one time and putting purple medicine on her mouth, she must have looked awful; a real mess, the story would stop their, and not a soul would continue the story from there, but I have an idea, it wasn’t good! I don’t know what all happened, but it wasn’t meant for my ears! My Mama wasn’t as popular with everyone as Papa was, because she was in charge of discipline, and it got rough sometimes, as you will in a minute or two, read later on in the story. I’m sure I remember correctly on this, that Papa’s father spent time at Moundsville state prison for writing a bad check. If I’m not mistaken the check was for no more than $50.00. I do know one of his brothers spent time there also for making shine. Papa’s brother and Dad were in prison the same time! I mentioned Welch earlier and some of our kin folks actually owed most of Welch. They had mineral rights and everything. They sold out and left. It was reported they received $l.00 per acre. They headed to Lewisburg W.V. and bought a Bed and Breakfast. They had to cross over the New River in Glen Lynn. This was done in a horse and buggy. We were told a cow got loose and crossed over the river by herself and waited for them on the other side! Uncle Mack said their first names were Eddy and Harvey. The kin folk’s last names were Fretman and Bates. All of this took place around l898. Now back to my mother. Mama was a great cook and passed that trait on to my mom. Hardly a day would pass that Mom wouldn’t make us biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Mom was the best at making homemade fudge also. Yummy! Yummy!

Now back to Spice. You see the word spice and you immediately think sugar and spice—Wrong! This is actually a place deep in the West Virginia coal fields close to another unusual name, Skygusty. The name Skygusty was named after an old Indian Chief who lived in that area at one time, or it was the name an Indian Chief gave one of the local residents, meaning one who would not fight! I know one or the other is correct. When my grandmother mentioned either one of those places, the first story she would tell me would be about the Garmones killing a half a dozen Indians. The monument now stands in the former Black Country Club property, but it actually took place a couple hundred yards from that spot. She would get deep into the story saying this happened around the 1800’s on the Tug Fork River. She would always end the story by saying, Of course, the Indians were drunk and didn’t know what hit them. I remember her telling me about a monument quite often, they erected, honoring the Garmones. I would pass this rock quite often during my lifetime, and it seemed that they could never decide where exactly to put it.

My grandma had several kids and they were raised very hard. She was to say the least a hard disciplinarian, and she would kick their ass also, literally. Just ask Don, Mack, Glen Lynn Ray, Coney, Bane or Agnes or Shirley, even Connie, got a few licks from old grandma. She even busted Don and yes, also me, for wrestling one time. That match took place up on Heartbreak, and so did the ass busting! Her name was Dessie. Those Aunts and Uncles were on my mother’s side of the family. I also had Portiss, Brad, Cam, Jed, Hack, Leon, Nell, Betty and Dot for Aunts and Uncles on my Dad’s side of the family. Her name was Bertha. People in those days just had big families. I was setting in her living room once and Bane came by me running like a bat out of hell. Mama was right behind him, chasing him with a poker. I can recall this happening; I was in the living room playing an imaginary football game, something I did quite often. You will have to get use to me saying I recall, or I remember quite often in this story. My sister says she can’t believe I actually can recall all this stuff, because she can’t recall half of it until I bring it up! The story goes that she actually hit him with the poker, but one of the girls got me by the hand and led me into another room. They did not want me to see that fiasco!

The monument is still standing. I hope they have a final resting place at the Black Country Club in Thorpe W.V. I recall passing the country club one time and they had the creek blocked off with rocks and it was backing the water up. This they called their swimming pool! Grandma then would continue the story with tears in her eyes, talking about Spice and all the people who lived there. She especially liked to tell me what happened to her Dad, who would be my Great Granddad. I was listening intently about the killing of great granddad. It would hold my attention. Now this happened back in the 20’s about the time the great town of Keystone was getting into full swing—prostitution that is—Pay to play at Keyrock, as some people called it. It seemed as though from what all I could gather that Great Granddad made moonshine and had a still up on Spice. My mama said it was not unusual for people who made shine to put tobacco juice or turpentine in their moonshine. My Great Granddad did not do this! He was coming home one afternoon on horseback and my dad said he had been gambling all night at a house of ill-repute in Keystone. Of course Mama left that part of the story out. On his way back home, he happened upon three black men who wanted to buy some moonshine. He stopped in a big open field to take a breather from riding. The next few minutes were his last as the three black men approached him. They were on horseback, probably mules. I think that’s the way the story came down. The reason I say mules is, because it was much easier to purchase a Chevrolet instead of a Cadillac! He was not very far from home. A fight broke out and Mama stated that her dad came out on the short end. It had something to do with the price of the shine. My grandmother stated that one of the black men struck Granddad in the back of the head with a hatchet or axe. I stated earlier it was a bloody mess. Grandmother stated it was a brutal death and would cry like a baby every time she took me to the tree where it happened upon Spice. Grandmother had a picture of Great Granddad standing beside of a tree, the same one where he was brutally killed at! He was killed in 1925, the same year Mama and Papa were married. It happened in late December. He was buried a month after Mama’s and Papa’s wedding, around Christmas time. It is kind of an eerie feeling looking at that picture. Granddad was a tough customer and Mama said he would fight at the drop of a hat. She said she could recollect several things about him and one time he had whipped two guys at a beer-joint in Anawalt. My Grandma also would talk of her dad cutting the stomach open of a hog that was unable to deliver the little pigs in the proper way. They would be turned around or something, so he would take a switchblade or razor and split the hog’s stomach and take them out! He must have been a bad ass to be able to do that! The Black people also liked being around during hog killing time. They would collect the blood and make blood pudding. I can remember this was usually close to Thanksgiving. I do remember dad and papa talking about people being hung by the neck in the county! I know they sometimes were unfair to the blacks and would hang them on the spot! Just from hear-say more blacks were hung than whites! All the stories I heard were gruesome and hanging seemed to be an everyday occurrence at one time in McDowell county West Virginia!

Now back to the hog killing, yea they would take a 22 and shoot the hogs right between the eyes! Grandma also loved telling me about when I was around two years old setting on the sidewalk by the coal box waving and talking to the miners walking to work up at number 4 coal mine. I spent two years of my life working in those very mines. My grandmother said it made no difference, black or white, I’d wave at all of them! She sometime would get really riled up and talk about Great Grandma staying with us and my sister crying and waking her up.

Great Grandma fell down our stairs in the house at Jenkinjones and later died from this fall due to a broken hip. She would sit sis and me on the kitchen table and pour casteroil down us. It was her favorite remedy. She had done the same to all of my aunts and uncles. They gave her the name of Dr. Cobb. She would back mama’s story and swear it was the truth. They both would really get into it at times telling us about their family moving from Spice to Jenkinjones. It seemed as though before they decided to move a horrible thing happened. Two of the brothers got into a fight with each other, one pulled a knife, and another one of the brothers trying to stop the fight was killed when he stepped in between his brothers. Oh, by the way, the black men pulled time in prison for killing Great Grandpa. The brother also pulled time in prison for killing his own brother. My uncle Newwart, married my dad’s sister and was brother to my mothers mom. Uncle Newwart was intended to be the one stabbed, but another brother stepped in front of him and was killed instead! It seemed as though all of my descendents were gamblers, moonshiners, miners and hell raisers. They even had a club house for men who did not live in Jenkinjones. This is where all the social activities took place. It also provided a shower for the miners and home cooked meals were available. Just about all the old timers I remember were bedridden when they died. It would be something if these mountains, Jenkinjones could only talk. I would have liked to have been a fly back then, when they started building the houses, just to see what went on! They built 400 houses, made out of wood and a section for the black people called New Town. The head man in town was of course a man named Jenkinjones; Mr. Jones was President of Pocahontas Fuel Company. Mr. Jones was responsible for building Jenkinjones. He died in 1916 and never saw the road built between the two towns. He left his presidency to his son, James Elwood Jones, who built a house close to Kimball, (Maybeury, was a small town just up the road from Kimball) that house still stands. I have been in that house and why they don’t charge to see it is a mystery to me! It’s comparable to the Vanderbilt’s, I’m not lying! I do know a black man murdered some people in that house! Now let us get back to the old timers. The old people were very hard to get along with. I can recollect several of these old bed-ridden people cursing like sailors. The person I’m referring to have a name that sounded something like Kellick. I never saw him that he wasn’t bed-fast! Everybody was poor, with the exception of the mine operators!

I later squirrel hunted on Spice with a cousin of mine. It was a beautiful place, but we were unable to find the tree where Papa had been killed. And close to Spice was a schoolhouse where a lot of my kin-folk attended. I was in that school when it was nothing but a one room school house, to see it now is unbelievable! I loved it when they talked about the old school. My Grandmother said she had attended the school. It was a one-room school that sits by the railroad tracks and later moved down on the road and was kept and remodeled by my uncle Newwart. He’s the little boy who saw the black men first, after one of them killed his dad. He never liked any black person, after that awful sight! He did not hide this fact and let it be known, he said, I hate Niggers. Uncle Newwart was always good to me and I liked him a whole lot. I best remember him for bring orphans from the Grundy Mountain Mission Home to his house every Christmas. He loved kids and was a very generous person. I was very young when Newwart started to remodel the old school house and I can remember him getting drunk and pretending to play a fiddle, drunk as a monkey. He not only made shine, but consumed quite a bit of it also! Uncle Newwart and Dot lived in as much as I can recall an old western looking place in Skygusty. It was built of black lumber of some sort (the creosote look) and the train ran right behind their porch; a person could step from the porch to the train! A set of steps led up to the house, I barely can remember. They finally had to tear it down. It could have passed for a western town. Uncle New was quite a person, he always wanted to be a policeman, but it never happened. The politicians promised him the job, but it didn’t materialize. He was also a womanizer and reported to have many girlfriends, even a Dr’s wife at one time! We all liked him and he was a whole lot of fun to be around. Even though he may have done this, he dearly loved Dot!

He loved all his kids and enjoyed life to the utmost.

We had a policeman in Jenkinjones who shot several people and Newwart admired him. Newwart always made moonshine, and it was common knowledge. One of my uncles had been to the shine with Uncle New and he told me it was some kind of a set-up first class. Uncle Newwart always carried a gun, just in case! One of my other uncles Mack, on mom’s side, told me several times about a trip that he took back in the late 40’s across the mountain from Jenkinjones to Spice, about 15 miles not in a car but on a horse. My grandpa had a horse sold to a fellow in Spice but no way to get it there. My uncle volunteered to ride the horse across the mountain. He threw a burlap sack across the horse’s back (they didn’t have a saddle) and took off, needless to say, talking about being gaulded! He said it was a miserable time. They did not take him to a Dr. you had to almost be dead for that to happen! He said they packed some type of grease on the wound and he went on about his business! They also treated it with cornstarch! Dr. Cobb was in on treating Mack. Mack did some timbering with Maude, the horse’s name, on this trip, and even stayed in a tent during that time. I was told Maude the horse was a pretty tough customer. He pulled timber out of the mountains with a logging chain, and the horse weighted about two thousand pounds. He was smart enough to stand aside a let the logs pass him bye after two or three mishaps! Mack states he personally saw Maude get tripped up and even fall to the ground. I’d say that was a sight, seeing a two thousand pound horse get his feet knocked out from under him! The horse had to be pretty damn tough. Mack was a pretty tough customer himself, and he definitely was my hero. The man that was to bye the horse pulled a no show. Mack told papa he would not ride Maude back across the mountain. They hauled the horse back in a truck. Mack stated that Travelin Nance had died about five years ago and they had purchased Maude. I witnessed my uncle Mack backing down and beating the hell out of people who might cross his path. The word was he cleaned out a bar on route 460 one time while in service. This happened just outside the city limits of Princeton, W. V. He in particular did not like this black guy by the name of Goodel Bug Sales, I think they fought every time they would see each other! Mack was afraid of nothing or nobody. So as you can see, everything was not sugar and spice in Spice. Just wonder how many stills Mack passed in that holler, while riding the horse across the mountain! A lot of people made White Lighting at that time!

This trip took place around 1947-1950. Mack said it was quite an experience! He later married a gal by the name of Coretta Smith, (she straightened his ass out) It only took 50 years! Mack, Coretta, and Don and Sue another aunt and uncle all live in Virginia. Mack and Coretta have been married over 50 years. Don loved that song Black Sheep, of the Family he said that fit him to a tee. They are good people, the best you ever want to meet, and Mack is like a brother I never had. He has always been there when I needed him. Mack made me my first chocolate milk, man was it good? I can remember when they all got married. First there was Mack and Coretta, then Don and Sue, and finally Connie and Reasor. Mack has told me more than once that they had to borrow a car and had $40 to their name. He had borrowed $25.00 from Dad! Man that was pressure!

Chapter 2:

—The Dance

Now around the mid 50’s, there was quite a lot to do in coal camps. We had theatres, company stores, barbershops, post offices and some towns even had bowling alleys. People don’t actually believe me when I tell them this story about remembering sitting in a high chair at the age of 4. It was 1952 and the State Police knock on our door around 4:00 A.M.; my uncle Bane, on the Clay side had been in a bad accident in Bluefield. He’s the same Uncle that mama plastered with the poker. I was told later, when I could understand, that a carload of sailors hit him and another guy, fixing a flat near the Wild Goose on rt. 52, in Bluefield. I’m quite sure they told me it was alcohol related. Bane didn’t live but about a week, after the accident. Bane was driving papa’s white Chrysler. Dad owned an identical Chrysler, but it was black. He was to be married in about 2 months. I even remember her name, Ellen LeLeer! Ellen had lived in Gary and her family moved to Bluefield. This is very similar to a story that I’ll tell you later on! The whole family was devastated. I honestly, at 4 years old, can recall that awful sound of a knock on the door and later sitting there watching mom and dad cry! I was told Bane, who went by the name of Turk was a super person. He had worked at the tipple in Jenkinjones, where I would eventually spend some time working, at that same tipple, later on in life. We lost a great uncle and a great person, from what I’ve been told. Most of the company’s paid their employees, not cold hard cash, but were gracious to pay you in their own money, scrip. The coal company loved it, a monopoly! I later on in life worked with an Eva James whose dad was hit also on Rt. 52 alongside Bane! He lived for about two weeks but finally died not from the injuries, but due to pneumonia. His name was Jack Carver. Eva had married a friend of mine Mike James. He served in the military and had a battle with Agent Orange!

From what I could gather, a lot of trips were being taken across the mountain, especially Peal Chestnut and Elkhorn to the infamous Keystone, town of ill-repute. Let me tell you they were not going over there to bowl or see a movie. Now, back to the 50’s, it seemed as though our aunts with nothing but time on their hands, wanted to teach Sis and me how to dance. Elvis had just become popular and rock and roll was catching on like wildfire. Everybody was pegging their pants, wearing long sideburns, long hair, brushed back on the sides, etc., you know, the Elvis look. We all wanted to look like him so bad that on different occasions I would extend my sideburn look with some coal dust. Steve Allison and I (a close friend,) did this on several occasions. We not only liked Elvis, but there was Little Richard, Fats Domino, Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis, as well. Heck, I remember crying for days about Fats Domino supposedly having cancer and his