Daddy was a Mountain Lawman

DADDY WAS A MOUNTAIN LAWMAN

BY

Lois Sullins

Daddy when he was a Corporal

Chapter One  

The Kidnapping - 1941 - January

Mother didn't even know Daddy was missing until she read in the paper that he had been kidnapped.  We lived in the Kenilworth section of Asheville, North Carolina when it happened on January 28th.  Daddy's 25-year-old brother, Clyde, had spent the night at our house.  He woke up before the rest of us and brought in the Asheville Citizen Times.

He sat down and unfolded the newspaper.  As he read the headlines on the front page his mouth fell open and his hands began to tremble.  He went to the foot of the stairs and called up to Mother, "Lou, is Jess up there?"  "No," she replied.  "I don't think he came home last night."  "Come down here!" he told her.  She came down the stairs, putting on her robe as she descended.  At the time Mother was 29 and the mother of four children.  The youngest was only six months old.

Her red hair was matted down on one side from sleeping and her brown eyes were squinted from not being fully awake.  Her complexion was sprinkled with freckles.  They sat down on the sofa and read the article under the headline, both of them trembling from dread and the cold morning air.  "Fugitive Disarms One State Patrolman, Kidnaps Another."  It took them some time to finish the article, taking turns reading aloud because they were so apprehensive.

Mother had slept soundly, never noticing that Daddy hadn't come home.  Even if she had awakened to notice he wasn't there she wouldn't have been alarmed.  He frequently had to work well into the night!

I was only six at the time and don't remember any of it.  Mother told me years later that she couldn't understand why no one had called her so she wouldn't have to find out by reading about it in the newspaper.  Later they explained that everyone was so wrapped up in trying to locate Daddy and find out what had happened to him that they never thought to notify her.  We had moved into the house recently and no phone had been installed yet.

When Daddy finally got home he filled in the details for Mother and Uncle Clyde.  Since I was too young to be in on the conversation I'll relate Daddy's version of that night as told to Bob Terrell, a reporter for the Asheville Citizen Times and a former neighbor of ours.

February 1st.  Bob's article appeared in 1970 on the occasion of Daddy's retirement from the State Patrol.

"These two fellows," Jess related, "named Thomas Edward Leahy and Ralph Smith were supposed to have held up the cashier at a dog track in Florida, among other things, and escaped in a 19441Chrysler.  An alert was out on them."

"Corporal E. W. Jones who is now (1971) a patrol major in Raleigh, and Patrolman O. R. Roberts, now (1971) a captain in Raleigh, were cruising through Canton, North Carolina when they saw a 1941 Chrysler with two men in it parked at a filling station.  The car fit the description of the wanted car and when they flashed their spotlight on it, the car took off."

"They chased it at ninety miles an hour all the way to West Asheville, where I joined in the chase.  The Chrysler cut down Craggy Avenue where we ran him up a bank and wrecked him.  The man on the right hand side jumped out the door and ran.  Roberts, chased him on foot.  I pointed my pistol at the driver and captured him.  I handcuffed him and turned him over to Jones, then got in my car and began cruising around looking for the other man."

"In the meantime Smith, the one who ran, turned and held up Roberts, taking his pistol away from him.  He also encountered fourteen-year-old Joe Joyner, and took him at gunpoint too.  After they went across a cornfield, Smith told Roberts and Joyner to run, which they did.  They circled back to the Joyner house and called for help."

"I was cruising down a street near there when I saw something moving at the side of the road.  I stopped and aimed my spotlight over there and the beam fell right on Smith standing not fifteen feet from me, covering me with two pistols."  I got out of the car.  He said, "Throw up your hands."  I put them up and he took my pistol and told me to get back in the car, that I was going to drive him out of there."  "I drove them through Biltmore to Marion, up Buck Creek Gap, through Burnsville and to the Tennessee state line."

(This crook had a large bit of luck here.  There were few, if any other law enforcement officers in Asheville more familiar with that route than Daddy was.  He grew up in the area.)

"There he told me to get out of the car.  I told him not to damage my car, that it was checked out to me, and it and my pistol were my responsibility."  "Tell you what, Smith told me."  He unloaded my pistol and tossed it over on the side of the road.  "There's your gun.  I'll leave your car in Johnson City."  He drove off into the night." 
The article ends here.  What Daddy didn't tell the reporter was that Smith took him out of and behind the car three times and threatened to kill him.  Each time Daddy was able to talk him out of it by telling him his four young children might starve if he were killed.

After Smith drove away in the patrol car, Daddy walked to the first house which was far from any town.  The man who lived there didn't believe that he was a real patrolman and didn't want to let him in.  "You ain't no real patrolman!  Where's your car?"  "It was stolen by a crook."  "How do I know you ain't the crook?"  Daddy took out his unloaded gun and pointed it at him.  "The man didn't know that there were no bullets in it.  "I just want to use your phone and then I'll be on my way."  After the homeowner heard Daddy's end of the conversation as he heard him call his supervisor, Sgt. Nail at headquarters, he realized what was really going on and became more cooperative.

Daddy was picked up by another patrolman and several cars were dispatched to search for the man and/or the car.  The patrol car was indeed found in the Johnson City area.  The F.B.I. arrested Smith near New Orleans, Louisiana, thanks to the sharp eye of an F.B.I. agent, who was riding by on a street car and spotted the car they knew he had recently bought.  They had agents watch the car and sure enough he came back for it.

The only thing I do remember about the whole event was Daddy brought all of us presents when he returned from New Orleans that summer when he had gone to identify his kidnapper.  Smith was sentenced in late July to ten years in the federal penitentiary for kidnapping.  Our family didn't think that was nearly long enough.

Mama later told us that she couldn't cry for four days after the kidnapping.  Later she burst into tears every time Daddy walked into the room.  She'd come so close to losing him.

Chapter Two

Who Jess Sullins Was

Daddy spent all of his life, except for brief vacations, in the Western North Carolina mountains.  He loved his state more than anyone else I've ever known.  He had nothing but contempt for any suggestion that anyone would prefer to live elsewhere.  "Why, I'd rather be in jail in North Carolina than be the governor of another state," he often said.

He knew a lot about jails in North Carolina.  He certainly put enough people into them.

The kind of person my father, Jess Sullins, was can be best explained by telling two stories about him.

The first one happened when I was about twelve.  Walking down the main (lower main) street of Spruce Pine, I saw Daddy sitting in his patrol car.  He was chatting with a deputy sheriff and a boy about sixteen was sitting in the back seat.  As I approached the car to ask Daddy for some shopping money, the deputy said goodbye and got out of the car and left.  It was then that I noticed that the boy was handcuffed, dirty, and disheveled.  He sat with his head slightly bowed.  "Lois, this is Johnny Smith," Daddy said.  (I don't remember what his real name was.)  "Johnny, this is my daughter, Lois Anne."

He might have been introducing me to the governor's son at a formal ball by his tone.  Then turning to me he said, "Johnny got in with the wrong crowd and has gotten himself into some trouble."  Looking at him I thought, "To me he looks like he is the leader of the wrong crowd," but I knew Daddy only saw him as someone's son who had made a bad mistake.  I don't remember what happened next.  Daddy probably gave me some money and I went off in search of bargains.

The other story happened four or five years later when I was in high school.

Daddy was driving me to my job at the Skyline Dairy Bar one summer afternoon when someone behind us began honking his horn repeatedly in an obvious attempt to get attention.  He pulled over as did the horn honker who was driving a dilapidated old pickup truck.  Both of them got out and stood and talked while I sat and checked my watch constantly to see if this stop was going to make me later to work.  Daddy got back into the patrol car and we were moving down the road again, I asked, "Who was that man?"  "Oh," he said, that was ole Joe Jones (another pseudonym.)  We're going fishing tomorrow.  I had to put him in jail Tuesday for being drunk and disorderly.  We'll fish tomorrow.  Friday, I'll probably have to put him in jail again."

The angriest I ever saw Daddy was one night when he was driving me home from work.  It caused him to do something he hardly ever did - discuss his evening of work with me....

He had received a radio message to go to a house not too far from our own where a very poor family lived.  A rape had been reported.  When he arrived, the father of the victim refused to let the teenage girl press charges because her attacker was the girl's first cousin.  He didn't want to embarrass nor anger his brother, the boy's father.  Daddy was sputtering with anger.  He simply couldn't understand a father with so little concern for his own child.

But Daddy was just as well known for his sense of humor as his humanity.  I was introduced to a boy when I was in college who said, "I know who your father is and he's crazy."  "Do you know what he said to me?"  I was driving along with one arm around my date.  He pulled me over and said, "You are not giving proper attention to either your driving or the young lady, son."

Another time he chased a car after he had picked up some litter thrown from it.  He blew the siren.  When the car stopped, he handed the litter back to the driver and said, "Here, you dropped something."

On another occasion when he was working a speed trap with a group of other officers, someone noticed that one passing motorist was giving other cars the universal warning that law enforcement is watching by blinking lights at approaching card.  Daddy got into his car and chased the motorist.  When the man responded to the siren by pulling to the side of the road, a patrolman stepped over to his window and said, "Our governor wants to thank you.  You are doing a good job of cutting down on highway deaths in North Carolina.  Thank you for helping us to slow down the traffic."  The man's mouth was hanging open as Daddy turned and walked away.

Once his sense of humor very nearly got him into trouble.  He caught a repeat offender in a cemetery after a long, on foot, chase.  "Jed," he said to the man, "I ought to shoot and bury you right here.  You just keep costing the tax payers money with your shenanigans."  Later, when the man's case came up in court the defendant told the judge, "That patrolman threatened to kill me right there in the cemetery."  Luckily, the judge was well acquainted with "Jess and his sense of humor."

Daddy's own favorite story didn't involve him at all except as a spectator.

It seems a local man who was noted for drinking heavily was being chased for some offense by some officers.  The drunk man ran into the back of a church where the Sunday service was in progress and somehow stumbled into the choir loft, picked a spot to stand and joined in the hymn being sung.  He didn't notice that the hymn was over and everyone else had sat down as he continued to sing.  At this moment the officers dragged him off to jail.

Later in court when the judge asked him if he had anything to say for himself, the defendant, who had a speech impediment, answered, "Your honor, I juth. dwelt a little too long on the choruth."

Chapter Three

Fred and Nora's Family

Grandpa (Fred) Sullins was a tall, thin, broad shouldered man.  After he was older and lost his teeth he grew a thick moustache to hide that fact.  By the time I knew him he had no teeth and was very hard to talk with and understand.  I always thought he sounded like he had a mouth full of hot mush.  He was always laughing and smiling, easy going and never in a bad mood.  His father owned most of the site where Spruce Pine now stands and a large amount of Mitchell County land.

Grandpa had a blacksmith shop on Upper Main Street in Spruce Pine before the automobile became common place.  By the time I was born in 1934 he had moved most of his blacksmithing equipment to his barn where he made well cranks and other things for his neighbors.

As a child I once watched him working.  He pulled a metal rod out of the roaring fire, its end red hot and almost liquid.  He laid it down and hammered it flat.  I loved watching him use the bellows to pump up the fire.

In his younger years he also served as a deputy sheriff.  He loved to tell stories about the old days and the stories got taller with each telling!  His time as a deputy ended after Grandma found a bullet hole in his hat.

When he was in his seventies I watched him pushing a plow behind a horse around the steep hill beside his house.  Even then he could shoot a squirrel out of a tree.  He lived to be 99 years and eight months old.  All through his nineties he complained about being "useless" and referred to the nitroglycerin tablets he carried in his pocket as "aspirin."

One of his stories was that he arrested a man that needed to be taken to the jail which was some distance from his home.  It was late so he decided to handcuff him to a metal bed and take him to jail the next morning.  His daughter came and let him go because she felt sorry for him.  True or an exaggeration?  I never even learned which daughter it was supposed to have been.

Grandma was a tall woman with black hair.  By the time I knew her she had a big heavy torso, but her arms and legs were thin.  She had a twin sister, Jane, who had the same figure but very different coloring.  Aunt Jane had red hair and freckles.  Once they both sat down on a porch swing and it collapsed.

Grandpa's (Fred) brother, William, was the husband of Grandma's sister, Jane.

When I was ten or eleven, I spent the night at my grandparent's house.  It is the only time I ever visited without Mother or spent the night there.  I woke up very ill with the flu.  I felt terrible so I remained in bed.  Nobody even came to check on me or call me to breakfast.  About 10:30 a.m. Grandma and her very nosey neighbor came to the doorway and looked in.  "Who is this?" the neighbor asked.  "Jess and Lou's daughter," Grandma replied.  "What's the matter with her?"  "Nothing."  She closed the door and walked away.

Grandma usually got up very early, prepared breakfast for Grandpa and herself, gave her house a quick once over and went to town.  There she plunked herself down on a bench on Lower Main Street with some of her acquaintances and stayed most of the afternoon.

If you went to her house around noon there was always a table set with dishes and silverware and a selection of food that could be eaten cold.  The whole table was covered with a large tablecloth.  She had prepared all this in the morning.  When Grandpa or one of their sons came home for lunch they uncovered the table, sat down and ate.  When they finished the tablecloth was replaced all ready for the next hungry one who came home.

Daddy told Mother that when he and his brothers were grown men they would wear their socks for a week and then expect Grandmother to wash them.  After this happened one time to many, she took the whole pile out to the back yard and burned them.

My grandparent's children were:  Vina, born in 1900, Ruby 1903, Adam 1905, Jess 1908, Winnie 1910, Waits 1913, Clyde 1915, Lewis 1918, Lawson 1920, Gordon 1922, Doris 1925.  Doris died at one and a half.  Adam died when I was a baby so I don't remember him.  Daddy drove him to the Mayo Clinic after he was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  The doctors there told them that it was too far advanced for surgery.  He was taken home and died a few weeks later.

Ruby and Lewis both lived out of state most of my life so I don't know much about either of them.  Lewis fought in World War II and was tall and broad shouldered like his father and mine in his photograph.  He was handsome as well.  He moved to Detroit after the war.

Waits, nicknamed "Deputy" from the days he was one, was married to a woman named Kate.  They had an adopted daughter named Gail.  For some reason I rarely if ever saw or met them.  Mother couldn't explain it.  She said she liked them and thought Daddy did too.  They lived a very short distance from Grandma and Grandpa which makes it even harder to understand how we never ran in to them there.

Gordon lived in a house beside Grandma's.  He had a very sweet wife named Delphia.  They married very young.  Gordon had a printing business in Spruce Pine.

Aunt Vina lived just over the hill from my grandparents.  She was married to Will Buchanan.  They had several children.  They were strong Christians.  Will was the song leader at his church.  I was especially fond of their daughter, Gladys who was 5 - 10 years older than I was.

I am pretty sure that Vina, Waits and Gordon all lived on land once owned by Grandpa.

Winnie lived in Spruce Pine in an apartment, and was married. They had a daughter named Dorothy who was my age and several other children.  Dorothy was favored by Grandma.  We once had the following conversation:  "How old are you now Lois?" Grandma asked.  "I'm seventeen," I answered.  "Why aren't you married?"  "Because I'm only seventeen."  "Well, your cousin Dorothy is married and has four children and a washing machine.  How could I politely answer that?  I couldn't so I didn't say anything more.

Lawson moved around a great deal.  He married young, a very pretty girl named Edith and he was crazy about her.  They were unable to have children, so they adopted a boy and named him Danny.  I believe it was in the 1950's when Edith died.  Uncle Lawson was devastated.  When he went to his mother several months later and told her how he felt she had one piece of advice.  "What you need is to get yourself another woman" she told him.  Not too long after that he did remarry, a younger woman, this time.  They moved to Hendersonville after he retired.

Uncle Clyde was our hands down favorite of all Daddy's family.  He visited us frequently, sometimes staying days at a time.  However, he had a habit of disappearing without notice. But like many alcoholics, when sober he was the sweetest, kindest person around. He was a talented sign painter and could easily find work.  One morning when Uncle Clyde did not show up for breakfast my brother, Jess Jr. asked, "has Uncle Clyde gone to another all night movie?"  Many of the members of Daddy's family dislike Clyde, but we just saw his best side.

Both of my grandfathers resented the restrictions put on game & wildlife during the 40’s.  Grandpa Brown had always hunted to help feed his family.  Grandpa Sullins resented the amount of fish you could keep.  My brother Jess Jr. told me about a fishing trip he went on with Daddy & Grandpa Sullins.  Grandpa sat at the front of the boat and insisted on keeping everything he caught.  What he didn’t know was that when he caught one under the legal limit Daddy was throwing it out of the back of the boat, because he didn’t want to break the law.  When they got back to shore, Grandpa opened the bucket and said, “I could have sworn we caught more fish than this.”

Chapter Four

The Early Years -  1908 - 1919

Jess's growing up years must have been a "survival of the fittest" if one judges by the stories I've heard about them.

His older brother, Adam, broke his arm when he fell off the roof of their house, while the two of them were imitating the tight rope walkers they had seen at the circus.  They also ruined their mother's umbrella.  Jess got a spanking, even though he was younger, because he talked Adam into it.

Jess did not graduate from high school, but he never discussed it because he was embarrassed about his lack of education.  He was expelled when he was in ninth grade and never went back.  I would not be surprised if he deserved to be expelled.  All of the Sullins boys went through a period of mischief and maybe worse.  Most of them outgrew  it….  I feel sure the principal would have disagreed on that day if someone had predicted Jess would one day be a deacon in his church and a state patrolman.

I have noticed that a lot of teenaged trouble makers grow up and go into law enforcement and prove to be very good at it.  Maybe one reason so many of the Sullins boys went into law enforcement was because their father had done so.

Lawson was an Asheville policeman for a time. Gordon also worked in the field for a few years, as did Waits, as noted by his nickname, "Deputy."  Jess was the only one who made a career of it though.

After he had been out of school several years, he became friends with the high school band teacher.  He asked Jess to become the bands drum major.  I don't know why the school board allowed a non-student to be a drum major.  I have seen a picture of him in his uniform marching down the street.  I know he enjoyed it, but I don't know how long he did it.

When he applied for the highway patrol in 1939, he took and passed the high school equivalency test.  He was proud that all four of his children got more education that he did.  He didn't have much formal education, but was intelligent and acquired a lot of practical knowledge through experience.

I remember once when my brother who was home from college and was trying to explain electricity to Daddy only to discover Daddy knew more than he did about it.

Many times when somebody asked him a question about traffic laws he would repeat the law word for word, then cite the page number and paragraph number for the law.

Mother told me that a doctor's wife owned one of the first cars that came to Spruce Pine, but didn't know how to drive it.  Jess, who had never driven a car climbed in it and figured out how to drive it and then taught the owner.

Daddy had died and Mother had been through an operation for a brain tumor before I began this book.  Her memory had suffered, but she could remember some of the jobs Daddy had done before they were married.

When they met he was shining shoes.  Earlier he had been a deputy sheriff at the age of nineteen.  Later he hauled things in his truck for people who needed help.

He also drove people places in their own cars, such as to a hospital in another town because he had a reputation for being a very good driver.

After meeting Mother, he and her younger brother, Woodrow, worked at lumbering for a while.  He also worked as a fireman, helped build a reservoir, read water meters which was a part of a Spruce Pine policeman's duty, believe it or not.

For a time, he was a night watchman for an apple orchard.  It was while guarding the orchard that he was cleaning a gun he thought was empty and shot himself through the knee.  For the rest of his life he walked with a barely discernible limp.  My brother, Jess, Jr., would walk behind Daddy with the same little limp.  I'm sure he wasn't aware of it.  It's kind of scary for any parent to consider how much children follow their parent's example.

Whether this was the time that the call bell went rolling or not I’m not sure, but once when Jess was in the hospital, as a patient, he was in a great deal of pain.  He pressed the bell button that that was provided to summon a nurse.  Nothing happened. He pressed again.  Nothing.  After a number of times, he jerked the bell off the wall and tossed it into the hall it rolled down the hall and continued to roll down the steps.  A doctor coming up the steps picked it up and went to see where it originated.

Daddy & Mother during Courtship

Chapter Five

Courtship and Marriage - 1927 - 1933

When Jess was nineteen he came home from the general store and told his mother, "I saw the girl I am going to marry today."  He hadn't even spoken to Louisa Jane Brown.  It was 1927 and she was sixteen.  They would marry six years later, but there would be many twists and turns in both of their lives before then.

At some unknown time later he was working evenings for Harris High School as a basketball referee.  "Lou" was a first string guard on the girls’ team.  They were on the same bus on their way to a game in Crossnore.  He had noticed her before at several games.  This seemed like a good time to get acquainted with her.  He asked his cousin, Ruth Sullins, who was a friend of hers to introduce him to her.  Ruth moved over to Lou and sat down beside her.  Parroting Jess she said, "Does the little Brown girl ever have dates?"  Lou replied, “It depends on who’s asking”. Ruth said, “My cousin Jess is wants to know”.  Lou declined.  She did eventually go out with him once, but refused a second date because she was still dating a boy from Jackson County where she had lived before.

Another reason she was reluctant to date him again was that her father, Basil Brown, had heard some vicious gossip about Jess.  Basil made the statement that if Jess Sullins ever set foot on his porch with the intention of taking out one of his daughters he would blow his head off with his shotgun.

Jess continued to ask her out but she declined.  Even his friends tried to convince her to date him.  One of them nicknamed "Shorty" who sat behind her in one of her classes, said to her one day, "Jess wants to know if he hits a homerun at the community baseball game today, would you go out with him?"  She agreed that she would.  (Maybe she thought there wasn't a chance he could do it.)  During that game he hit not one but two home runs.

She was very evasive with her father when she went out with Jess, even after she was of age.  She either sneaked out or told him she was going elsewhere.

Jess played the guitar a little when they were dating.  He played with some friends at the county fair.  When Mother was at the fair he would play, "I'm Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover," their song.  When she was ready to go home she would request that the group play, "Goodnight Sweetheart", and he would take her home.

Jess's parents owned a small house, a short distance from their own house, which they called the "starter" house.  Any of their sons or daughters were welcome to use it when they were first married, until they could find and afford a place of their own.  Lou and Jess had decided they would get married as soon as his sister, Winnie, who was presently living in the house moved on to a place of her own.

On October 27 1933 Jess came over to tell Lou that Winnie had moved and they could be married.  She was cooking supper for her family and a guest, a visiting evangelist, who was conducting a revival at their church.  She finished cooking the meal, left it simmering on the stove and told her Mother she was going to the revival.  Instead they drove to Bakersville, the county seat, using a car borrowed from Sheriff Honeycutt.  They were married by a Justice of the Peace with one of his relatives as a witness.  None of their own relatives were present.  They didn't want Grandpa to find out.  Now days we find it difficult to think a father could prevent a 22-year-old from marrying.

Lou's mother, Zona, had heard a rumor several weeks earlier that they were already married.  Lou promised that when it actually happened she would be the first to know so they went and told her immediately after the ceremony.  Then they told her father.  His only comment was, "I've said all I'm going to say".  His attitude was entirely different after Jess joined his church the Pine Branch Baptist Church the following Sunday.  The Sullins family had been mostly Methodist.  Basil's comment was, "Well, he is an honorable man."

Chapter Six

Two Become Six - 1934 - 1944

Jess and Lou lived in the starter house until September of 1934 when they went to her parent's to await the birth of their first child.  The baby, a red haired girl, was born September 27, 1934.  They named her Lois Anne (yours truly).  She weighed eleven pounds nine ounces.  She was named after a girl named Lois, that Lou had met on a train years earlier.  She had been a very nice girl, kind and helpful to Lou.  Lou had never been out of the NC mountains before and was traveling to New jersey to visit her sister Mamie.  Lois who was on her way back to college, helped by explaining what to do, who to trust, and how to act.  Lou never saw nor heard from her again, but remembered her name and named me after her.

Within two hours fifty friends, relatives, and neighbors had come to see the new arrival, because the baby was SO big.  A week or so later they found an apartment in the basement of a private home and moved.  This turned out to be a mistake….  Jess was working that night as “the” Spruce Pine policeman.  (Notice I said "the" not "a".  The whole force consisted of one man.)  Mother had taken me into her bed to make sure I would stay covered and warm.  Just as she was dozing off I screamed.  She jumped up and tugged on the string, above the bed, that turned on the bare electric bulb.  Blood was everywhere.  On the bedclothes, on me, and both of our night gowns.  A large rat jumped off the bed and ran across the floor.  Lou grabbed a diaper and held it around my hand where the blood was flowing.  What was she to do?  They had no phone.  Then she remembered the landlady's suggestion that if she ever had an emergency she could pound on the ceiling with a broom handle.  She grabbed a broom and began banging on the ceiling.  The landlady came downstairs and held me while Mother went to a neighbor’s house to call Daddy.  When they returned from the doctor's office they began packing enough for a few days and when finished they moved back to the "starter" home in the middle of the night.

On January 18, 1937 a red haired son was born.  They named him Jess Augustus Sullins, Jr., but he was called Sonny until he was in high school because when he was born I couldn't pronounce Jess.  By then we lived in a house by the Carnation Milk Plant.  The doctor came to our house for the delivery, as they did in those days.  My Mother's mother was there, too.  An article in the local paper predicted that he would go into law enforcement, but he did not.  He became a civil engineer.

The only one of their children born in a hospital was Marguerite Ellen who was born March 9, 1938 at Crossnore, North Carolina.  The doctor believed Mother was going to have a difficult delivery with this third baby, so he suggested she go to the hospital this time.  Mother believed for years that a nurse delivered her baby because the doctor never arrived.  Many years later when I read the autobiography of Dr. Mary Sloop, I realized that she must be the woman Mother thought was a nurse.  Dr. Sloop and her husband had come to Crossnore when it was still a tiny and fairly isolated place where there weren't many schools and little or no medical treatment.  They started a boarding school, established a clinic or hospital, and taught the local mountain women how to weave and create other things so they could contribute to the family upkeep.  Marguerite was named for Mother’s maternal grandmother, Margaruit Yarboro, nee Kilby.  She must have had the same difficulty in getting other people to spell the name as Mother did, because Great Grandma’s death certificate and tombstone read, “Margaret”.  Mother settled for “Marguerite”, because that was the way all of her teachers kept spelling it and at least it was pronounced the same.  The “Ellen” came from Grandma Sullins, it was her middle name.

Their fourth child was born on July 20, 1940, another red haired girl.  They named her Miriam Louise.  It was a very hot day to be in labor, the situation was not improved by the loud voice of Grandma Sullins, Daddy's Mother, Nora, sitting outside the bedroom window repeating in a loud monotonous voice, "Hot!”, How hot!", How hot."  Miriam was named after a girl, who was the high school band’s drum majorette when daddy was the drum major.  Mother & daddy both thought she was nice and very pretty. The Louise was after Mother whose name was “Louisa”.  When Miriam was a baby she didn’t have much hair on her head.  Daddy said she looked like a bald politician, so he started calling her “Big Shot”. He even wrote Big Shot on his boat oar.

Daddy now had five red haired people in his family, Mother and all 4 kids.  He once commented that when he took us some place he sometimes felt like he was leading a parade, but I'm sure he loved every one of us.  Mother once cut a cartoon out of a magazine that showed a picture of a dark haired man and a red haired woman followed by a whole string of red haired children with the caption “Never under estimate the power of a woman”.

Daddy & Mother with Brian Marsh, their first grandchild

Chapter Seven

The Kids Grow Up - 1944 - 1953

Rev. Petit, who spoke at Daddy's funeral, said, "The first time I ever saw Jess Sullins was the day he brought his four children to enroll them at Oakley School which, in itself, said a lot about him.  He could have sent his wife to do that job."  Rev. Petit was still in high school himself on that day.  He said, "Jess seemed so stern as he walked toward the principal's office wearing his patrol uniform and towering over most of the students in the hallway and I felt afraid of him”.  That day we came to be registered for school we had just moved to Buncombe County from Spruce Pine because of one of his many transfers.  In those days, patrolmen were transferred every two years.  Although we didn't know it at the time that was our last move as a family.  After he retired, Daddy and Mother bought a house in the country in the Fairview Community.  Rev. and Mrs. Petit were their neighbors.  The two men became close friends.  Rev. Petit decided that Daddy was a loving husband, father and grandfather and treasured his friends.  He was exactly right.  No one ever had a better father nor a better childhood than his four children.

We each eventually either went away to college and/or married and left home but as individuals.

For a short time Daddy was stationed in Roxboro, but Mother refused to move there after visiting there and since Daddy hadn't wanted to move out of the mountains he was able to get transferred back after a few months.

Both Daddy and Mother loved Asheville and had many friends there.  If Daddy liked a person, he always spoke of them in extremely positive terms.  One of the people he most admired was a surgeon in Asheville named Dr. Nailing.  He hears him tell it, he was the best anywhere.

Another friend was Harry Bloomberg, an Asheville businessman whom he often hunted and fished with.

Daddy who made sure he was impeccable in his uniform looked like a bum when he was hunting, fishing, or golfing.  He would wear a garment as long as possible and extended that time period by persuading Mother to mend or patch things.  Once Jess, Jr. tried to smarten him up a bit by giving him a very nice golf cap as a birthday present.  Daddy claimed it didn't fit and took it back to the store and traded it in for a very ugly one that looked like it had been made from an old awning for someone whose head was two sizes larger than his.

He was very frugal in many ways, as were many who lived through the depression.  He had an old lawn chaise lounge that he kept for many years.  It had been mended numerous times with picture hanging wire and coat hangers.  He had inserted a piece of plywood in it to keep the springs from sticking him.  Occasionally one of us would buy him a new pad for it, but he kept it for the rest of his life and wouldn't discuss buying a new one.

By contrast when I was a child I always went to him rather than Mama.  If we asked her for a nickel, we got a nickel - maybe.  If we asked Daddy for a nickel he'd give us a quarter.  Then he'd say it was the last cent he had.

Even earlier in his life evidently he had an aversion to spending money on clothing.  Mother said when they had been married about a year she had only one decent dress.  She had not asked him for money because she assumed they couldn't afford new clothing.  One day they went shopping for furniture.  When they picked out a dinette set he pulled out a big roll of bills and paid cash for it.  After that when she really needed something, she went to a local store and charged it.

He never ate breakfast at the usual time.  He came home around eleven a.m. for lunch which was really breakfast.  Mother said when they were first married she made the mistake of insisting he eat breakfast before going to work.  He did.  Then he threw up.  After that she got up and made him a cup of coffee and he drank it while he read the paper.

Daddy was good at many sports.  He played several sports at various times in his life, including baseball, bowling and golf.  He real enjoyed playing golf.  He made a whole in one, 2 different times Once when he visited me in Iowa, I arranged for him to play with a friend of mine.  While they were discussing whether to go in spite of rain, Daddy remarked, “I don’t know about Iowa, in NC it doesn’t rain on golf courses.”

After we were old enough to go along he took us fishing every year during his vacation.  Mother loved fishing too, although she did advise me not to learn how to clean fish.  Sometimes he took other families along too.  They were usually relatives, sometimes just friends.

Daddy loved the Patrol Lodge on Lake Lure.  It was built in 1930 in the memory of George Penn, a patrolman that had been cornered on a dead end road by some criminals and shot and killed.  The building had 11 bedrooms, several bathrooms, a large living room (we held a square dance there the night I graduated from high school).  There was a large well equipped kitchen with 2 sinks, 2 ranges, 2 refrigerators etc…  2 large porches ran along the whole front of the building, one on the ground floor and another just above it.  Any patrolman could bring his family there for his vacation.  It was a perfect place for a fisherman like Daddy.  There was a speed boat and boathouse.  During WWII it was used by the Armed Forces for R&R.  During that time we could only use the boathouse.  For a time one patrolman and his family lived in the lodge as caretakers.  After they moved out, things started to wear out and show their age.  Eventually the powers that be decided to sell the Lodge, when daddy was told where to sign, so they could sell, he wrote “under protest” under his signature. 

We usually stayed about a week and went to either Lake Lure, where we stayed at the Patrol Lodge, or to Lake James where he borrowed or rented a cabin, or to Fontana Lake.  It was on a trip to Fontana that I heard Daddy curse for the first time.  (His men friends might have found that hard to believe, but he didn't use such language around Mother or us children.)

It happened when my youngest sister, Miriam, spilled his fishing poles into the lake.  We were fishing on a dock at lake level.  She was at the top of a steep hill by the cabin.  He called to her to bring the rest of the poles down.  To save energy she placed them in a bucket on a pulley system and started them down.  Naturally, being top heavy they toppled into the lake.  He was furious - not at Miriam, but at the loss of his fishing poles.  We were astounded when he spouted a stream of profanity.

Once when Jess, Jr. was young Daddy was in bed recovering from surgery and Jess and two of his friends were playing in our yard when two other patrolmen came to visit.  The boys looked at each other and had a brief huddle.  Then each boy went and got in a separate car.  Each of them set off the siren.  With all three blaring the men came racing out into the yard to shut them off.  Needless to say, Jess, Jr. was in a lot of trouble.  However, he didn't have to worry about getting a spanking.  Daddy rarely, almost never, spanked.  He told Mother early in their marriage that she would have to do the spanking because he had a temper and didn't want to risk hurting us.

I only know of two spankings he ever gave.  One was to me for walking out into the center of the highway and sitting down when I was a toddler.  The other was when Jess, Jr. hit Marguerite with a whip Mother's Dad had made for him.

Daddy & Mother

Chapter Eight

On the Job

Daddy always kept his car very neat.  If one of us got into the car to pretend we were driving, we didn't dare move any of the multitude of items he kept behind the sun visor or in the glove compartment.  Although he didn't punish us, he would give us a look and say, "Well (followed by our name") that made us feel he was so disappointed in us.  That was punishment enough.

He sometimes gave me a quarter, which was much more in the 1940's than now, for polishing his belt and shoulder strap that he wore diagonally across his chest.  I took this task very seriously.

Although Daddy rarely mentioned his work experiences, I have heard a few of them indirectly.  Once a man he was chasing jumped into a river.  He also jumped in and swam across in pursuit of him, nabbed the guy, swam back hauling the man and took him to jail.

Once he wrecked a car when the man he was after wouldn't stop.  The driver then ran between two houses on foot.  He was going too fast to notice in the dark that there was a clothesline in his path.  He nearly strangled himself.  Daddy took him to the hospital, then to jail.

Another time he had arrested a woman for public drunkenness and was, along with another officer, riding an elevator in order to take her to the top floor jail in the Buncombe County Courthouse.  Some of the maintenance staff had left some mops, brooms and an upturned bucket in a corner of the elevator.  Before either officer realized that was about to happen, the woman sat down on the bucket and wet on herself.

Early in their marriage Mother wanted Daddy to get out of law enforcement, because it was dangerous.  Grandpa Brown, who had certainly changed his early impressions of Daddy, sat Mother down and gave her a lecture.

“Daughter”, he said, “We know that preachers and missionaries, etc are called to their professions, but what you don’t seem to recognize is that people are called to other professions as well.  It’s obvious to everyone but you that Jess was born to be a policeman.”  After that Mother stopped pleading with Daddy to get into some other line of work.

In 1952 he was assigned the task of photographing all cars that had been involved in a fatal crash anywhere in Western North Carolina.  Sometimes the Asheville Citizen Times published his photographs when their photographer couldn't get to the scene in time.  They always gave him credit.  He became a rather good photographer and even learned to develop the pictures he shot.  He enjoyed the work immensely.

One day when my cousin, Frank, whom we called "Bud" took Mother and us children out for a ride.  She was chattering on about what she would cook for supper “We could stop at the A & P for some hamburger so I could make some chili."  About that time, we met Daddy in the patrol car and both cars pulled over to the side of the road and stopped.  He came over to Bud's car and said, "I'm just sick.  I just left a wreck scene where a man was chopped up like hamburger."  Mother's only comment was, "Maybe I should just fix macaroni and cheese."

Charles Smith, a classmate of mine in high school, told me that Daddy was chasing him one time.  Charles thought he had a better chance of getting away from him on foot.  He stopped his car, got out and ran into the woods.  After several minutes of dashing between the trees and hopping over logs and piles of twigs, without realizing that he's been running in circles, he came out at the same spot where he went in to find that, "Jess was leaning patiently on my car with his arms crossed."

We had no family car.  His lieutenant had told him, "I know that you aren't paid enough to afford a car of your own, so if I see you at the grocery store with your wife and children, I'll assume you're taking them all to jail."  I certainly hope patrolmen are better paid now days.  Surely they are.

Still, if Mother or one of us girls was seen riding with him some old lady would invariably phone the office to complain that "Some patrolman is running around with a redheaded woman in his car."  Trilby, the radio operator for patrol cars, would inform her, "Ma'am, it could easily be his wife or any of his three grown redheaded daughters."

One uncle (who will remain nameless) who was visiting our house went with Daddy when he went to work.  As they were traveling down the highway, an announcement came over the two-way radio for all cars to be on the lookout for a car with a certain license number.  Within seconds they pulled up behind the car with that number.  Daddy turned on the siren and the driver sped away with the patrol car in hot pursuit.  Finally, Daddy pulled alongside of the other car and forced him off the road.  He got out of the patrol car and walked toward the wanted man, whose car was now sitting tilted in a ditch, just as the man crawled out of the back seat.  Uncle thought he had a gun.  Daddy subdued the man, handcuffed him and placed him in the backseat of the patrol car.  "Uncle" hopped out of the front seat and said, "I think I'll walk home."  Then he did so - a distance of nearly ten miles.  He never agreed to go with Daddy to work again.

Twice when I was with Daddy in some public place, someone would come up to him and thanked him for something he'd done for them.  Once a woman thanked him for insisting that she get back into her car and drive it immediately after she'd been involved in a wreck.  "If you hadn't done that, she said, I would never have had the courage to drive again."

Another time a man walked up to him and thanked him for putting him in jail.  "I really had to face where my life was headed and it turned me around," he said.  On the other hand, Daddy told me that he often stopped when he noticed someone on the side of the road with a flat tire.  If they looked like they were incapable of changing the tire he would offer to help them.  He told me not one of them said thank you.  He said they acted like it was part of his job, which it was not.  As a result, I try to remember to say thank you in all the appropriate places; when servers give me a drink or food, when someone helps me with directions, and of course when given a present.

During one high speed chase both cars missed a curve and ran off the road.  Daddy banged his head rather hard.  However, he managed to chase the culprit on foot and arrest him.  A few days later his hair fell out in circles the size of a fifty cent piece all over his head.  Then when it came back it was white which gave him a polka dot pattern.  Eventually as new hair grew in it returned to his natural brown color.  During the process rude people would ask, "what is the matter with your hair?"  He would reply, "what's the matter with your manners?"

Daddy always had a reputation for being fair when he was a policeman in Spruce Pine.  Early in his career he arrested two of his brothers for drunk and disorderly conduct.  They were fighting on the street in town.  It was only later that he learned they were fighting over him.  One was calling him names and the other was defending him.

Like many teasers Daddy wasn't a very good sport about being teased (a trait I also have.)  He came home one day and walked into the kitchen where Mother and I were and said, "I've got to take some uniforms to the cleaners.  I've been escorting a general all day wearing trousers with a stain on them."  Mother, who never could resist a straight line replied, "Really?  I'm surprised you'd think the army would be stricter about how generals dress."  Daddy stomped out of the kitchen in a huff about being made fun of.  He was as careful of other people’s dignity as his own.

A new patrolman who had been through the patrol school had to ride with an experienced officer for a certain number of weeks before his job was official.  Once when one of these "rookies" was assigned to Daddy they were arresting a man, who was drunk and didn't want to get into the patrol car.  The new man pushed him in with his foot whereupon he got a lecture from his supervisor.  "Never do that!  A person is a human being and never gets so drunk that he doesn't know his dignity is being insulted."

One night when we lived on Hendersonville Highway near Biltmore a drunk driver sideswiped a gas pump at a filling station next door to our house, crashed through our picket fence and up to our porch before stopping.  He kept mumbling over and over, "Don't call the cops."  A person who had been walking on the sidewalk answered him, "You are going to get drive-in service, Buddy."

I hope I haven't given the impression that everyone loved my Father.  That would be far from the truth.  As an example, Mother's oldest sister, Aunt Letty, was in the waiting room of a doctor's office in Spruce Pine, when a group of women were discussing Daddy without realizing who Letty was.  Each was telling why she disliked "that patrolman" and which of her "innocent" relatives he had arrested.  Aunt Letty hadn't said a word.  Finally, one of them turned to her and asked, "What do you think of him?"  "Well, all I know is that he has been very good to my sister ever since they got married."  The room was suddenly silent.

When I was in ninth grade, someone started a petition to have Daddy transferred.  When he called Mother to tell her that we were moving back to Asheville, the four of us cheered so loud she had to shush us before she could continue the conversation.

Little did the people who signed that petition know that they were doing us a huge favor.  Mother had always disliked Spruce Pine because her parents moved there from Jackson County when she was sixteen years old - a very bad age to be uprooted.  Daddy liked Spruce Pine, but preferred Asheville, too.

While I was working at the Dairy Bar, a girl who worked at the restaurant across the street was hitting by a car as she was crossing the road.  Her coloring and height were similar to mine.  She was wearing a white uniform dress like the ones we wore at the dairy bar, she was knocked off her feet and unconscious.  About that time Daddy & another patrolman were driving by and stopped to investigate.  When Daddy tried to get out of his patrol car, he found he was unable to move, even to open the car door.  He told the other officer to check it out.  They were relieved to learn that she wasn’t seriously injured and that it wasn’t me.  She had just been knocked down by the car’s mirror.

One summer afternoon, Daddy was called to investigate reports that a man had committed suicide up on the Blue Ridge Parkway.  While they were at the Overview, two women in a big Cadillac, with NY license plates, pulled up at the rest stop and asked, “Can we have a picnic here?” 

“Yes, ma’m.  If you will just wait a few minutes until we get this man down from the tree where he hanged himself.” 

The two ladies ran to their car screaming, “Oh, My Lord!” and sped away. 

George Pressley, a family friend, told me that during their teen years that he and his friends did not want to get pulled over by Daddy.  Any other patrolman would just give them a ticket, but Daddy would take them home to their parents and make them tell their parents what they had done.

A TALE OF MOONSHINE, A CAR CHASE

By

Bob Terrell, Columnist for Asheville Citizen Times

Jess Sullins was a state highway patrolman stationed in Jackson County during and for a long time after World War II, when moonshining and bootlegging were still a going thing out there.

A man who we'll call John Henry had made a good living running illegal whiskey out of Tennessee across the Smokies on 441 and spreading it over Jackson County like a blanket.  He eluded the law for years, and Jess finally swore to himself that he would catch John Henry.

One morning Jess was patrolling west of Sylva when John Henry flew past him in his little '37 Ford with overload springs.  The car's rear end was standing high off the ground.  Jess Whipped around and followed, while John Henry made a bee line for Cherokee and started up 441 over the mountain.

At a safe distance Jess trailed him, and at Newfound Gap he backed into a parking place hidden from southbound traffic, switched off the engine in his little Silver Bullet, and waited for John Henry's return.

Sometime after noon, John Henry rolled through the gap with the tail end of his car almost dragging the highway and Jess Knew he carried a sizeable load.  He cranked up old Silver and gave chase.

John Henry spotted Jess in his rear-view mirror and put the pedal to the metal, flying around the downhill curves at a much higher rate of speed than the highway allowed.

Jess cut on his siren and flashing red light, which only spurred John Henry onward.  Finally, rounding a sharp curve, John Henry, the '37 Ford and that load of liquor went flying off the road into space.

Jess stopped and ran over to the edge where john Henry had left the highway, jumped the guard rail and saw the car far down the mountainside.  Luckily, it had missed every tree and John Henry was crawling out the left window with his head spinning.

He started climbing up the mountain, and Jess went back to his car and waited.  In about 15 minutes John Henry poked his head over the edge and surveyed the parking lot.  He saw Jess sitting in his little Silver Bullet, hauled himself on up onto the road, and walked straight to Jess' car.

"Howdy, Jess," John Henry said hitching his belt.  "Boy, am I glad to see you.  I been lost in the woods three days and just now found my way out.  I wonder if you'd give me a ride to Sylva?"  "Why sure, John Henry," Jess replied.  "Hop in."  John Henry hopped in and Jess drove him straight to the Jackson County Jail.

Back row: Miriam, Lois, Jess Jr., Brian, Marguerite, Daddy, Mother

Front Row:  Kirk, Doug, Cindy, Jeff, Tammy, Sandy

Chapter Nine

Some of My Memories

People’s attitudes towards policeman was different in the mid-20^th century than in the early 21^st.  Those in law enforcement got more respect.  There were times when daddy’s appearance on the scene was a great advantage to me. 

When I was 11 years old, I was walking the 2 miles, from home, to visit my grandmother Brown.  (That was supposed to be safe in those days.)  As I strolled along the highway a car with 3 boys pulled up beside me. 

“Hey, girl, want a ride?” 

“No!” I replied, “Go away!” 

“Come on girl, we’ll have some fun”

“Leave me alone, I am only 11 years old”

“No, you’re at least 15” 

“Do you know who my father is?” 

“No, who is he?” 

“Jess Sullins”

Their car raced away.  Everyone in Mitchell County knew Daddy by name.  He had been born and raised there.

When I was in high school I worked at the Skyline Dairies soda fountain – ice cream parlor.  One day 2 men came in and sat down at one of my tables on the patio. 

When I took them their check one asked me, “Do police detectives get a discount here?”

My reply was, “I am not impressed by policeman, the first thing I ever saw the first time I opened my eyes was a police uniform.”

“Young lady, who are you?  Do we know your father?” 

I just smiled and walked away.  They went inside to question the other employees about my identity.  While I went upstairs to clock out, my shift was over.

During the years I was in college, I worked during the summers as a waitress at the Piedmont Inn, near Waynesville.  We were assigned a person or a group of people for the length of time that they stayed at the Inn, whether it was a weekend or several weeks.  There was an elderly couple assigned to me, who were very unpleasant.  The toast was too light or too dark.  Is brought them butter they wanted Oleo. If I brought Oleo, they wanted butter.  One night my employer invited my parents to come to the inn for dinner.  When they arrived Daddy was wearing his uniform, as he was required to do anytime he drove the squad car.  And he always drove it because we didn’t have a car of our own.  He considered himself on duty anytime he drove the car and was in uniform (gun included).  As a child, I always wondered if he would let us out on the side of the road and speed off if he saw that a law was being broken.  When Mother & Daddy arrived, I escorted them to their table, and walked to the complainers table and refilled their coffee cups. 

“what’s wrong?  

“Why are the police here?”, the man asked. 

“Oh that’s only my parents. Mr. Hyatt invited them for dinner.”

You probably won’t be surprised to learn, that that was the end of their unreasonable complaints…

Once when I was coming home from college, I rode a bus to the Asheville bus station, and sat down in the waiting room to wait for Daddy.  A couple of sleazy looking men kept looking at me, until I felt quite uncomfortable.  Then Daddy walked in and suddenly everyone was busy minding their own business.