B-29 118335

“The loss of 41-18335 sent shockwaves through the aviation community.”

XB-29 #118335

A picture postcard mailed from San Antonio, Texas, on May 31, 1946, appears to be nothing more than a typical card sent from a young airman to his family member.

The Boeing B-29 Superfortress serial number #118335 featured on the front isn’t any ordinary old airplane—nor is the Army Air Corps base where the 18-year-old enlisted man was assigned duty.

Kelly Field, as it was called until 1948, first began in 1916 as a flight training center for Army Air Corps pilots and mechanics. By 1921, after WWI ended, the facility was still in operation, more as an advanced training site for skilled pilots rather than new recruits. At the end of WWII, 15,000 civilians were working at Kelly with 16,000 military personnel.

Kelly Field eventually became Kelly Air Force Base, and was a major maintenance and logistics center for the Air Force for many years. That all came to an end in 2001 when the base closed, and all buildings and property were turned over to San Antonio for economic and educational use.

Getting back to Pvt. John McLellan, the backside of his postcard card contains the following:

“Rt. John M. McLellan

45052566 – Sqdn SB 15

Flight 413 3543 RD

AAF – MTC

San Antonio

Texas   30 – May – 46

Hi Ronnie,

Want to swap me one of these for a house? We have today off, the skies are cloudy after the storm last night. So I don’t know if I can take more pictures. I’m sitting outside in a beach chair, keeping away from detail.

So long kid, Jack”

John McLellan sent the postcard to Mr. Ronald D. McLellan in Cleveland, Ohio. It wasn’t hard tracking down their family history. John was 19 years old, entering military service on April 30, 1946, and had only been at Kelly Field for 1 month when he sent the card. The Rt. in front of his name stood for ‘radio technician’, although his real rank was private. I’d say he was trying to impress his brother by foregoing using Pvt.

Donald was a younger brother, although a younger one was yet to come along. John, or Jack as he liked to call himself, did not make a career out of the military, staying in for only 4 years. By the time he retired in civilian life, John McLellan was a mathematics teacher and had a master’s degree in philosophy.

Ronald D. McLellan was 7 years younger than John, going on to be a successful investment banker and eventually the president of Northwest Region III Banking Institution. John and Ronald’s lives were ordinary, based on the biographical information I came across.

The B-29 on the front of McLellan’s postcard suffered far more than the base. Rather than give a brief synopsis like I did with the McLellans and Kelly Field, I’ve decided to include a full history on this airplane, as it was highly important to how WWII turned out. At the time the postcard photo was taken, the B-29 was still in its development stages.

The Boeing XB-29 41-18335 stands as an emblem of innovation, ambition, and technological leaps that characterized the feverish pace of aircraft development during World War II. As one of the original prototype aircraft for what would become the iconic B-29 Superfortress, 41-18335 occupies a pivotal chapter in American aviation history—a tale of aspiration, tragedy, and progress.

In the late 1930s, with tensions mounting on the world stage, the United States Army Air Corps recognized the need for a new long-range bomber capable of traversing vast distances, carrying heavy payloads, and delivering decisive blows to enemy forces. Boeing, already renowned for its work on the B-17 Flying Fortress, was awarded the contract to develop this next-generation heavy bomber.

The result was the Model 345, which evolved into the XB-29 project. The Army ordered three prototype aircraft, designated XB-29, with serial numbers 41-0002, 41-0003, and 41-18335—the latter being the third and final prototype constructed.

The XB-29 represented a radical step forward in bomber technology. Its pressurized cabin, remote-controlled gun turrets, and powerful Wright R-3350 Duplex-Cyclone engines promised performance never before seen in an American bomber. The aircraft featured a sleek, streamlined fuselage, high-aspect ratio wings, and a tricycle landing gear—a significant departure from the tail-dragger designs of previous eras.

41-18335, as the third XB-29, incorporated lessons learned from its predecessors. Each prototype was essential not only for flight testing but also for refining the myriad new technologies integrated into the design.

First flown in 1942, the XB-29 prototypes were subject to rigorous flight evaluations from Boeing Field in Seattle, Washington. Pilots and engineers meticulously examined aspects such as engine performance, cabin pressurization, stability, and the functionality of the remote turrets.

41-18335 quickly became an invaluable asset in these tests, pushing the boundaries of what was possible and revealing both the potential and perils of the new bomber. During early flights, crews faced numerous challenges, including issues with engine overheating—a problem that would persist into production models.

The legacy of 41-18335, however, is indelibly marked by tragedy. On February 18, 1943, during a test flight near the Boeing plant in Wichita, Kansas, the prototype suffered a catastrophic engine fire. The aircraft, piloted by Boeing’s chief test pilot Edmund T. Allen and carrying several Boeing engineers and Air Corps observers, was attempting to return to the field when the fire intensified.

Unable to control the blaze, the crew lost control, and the aircraft crashed into a meatpacking plant just north of the airfield. The crash killed all eleven on board and 20 workers on the ground, including a fireman, making it one of the deadliest accidents in early American aviation.

The loss of 41-18335 sent shockwaves through the aviation community and the Boeing organization. Not only did the tragedy claim the lives of some of the industry’s brightest engineers and test pilots, but it also highlighted the urgent need for further refinement of the B-29’s engines and safety systems.

Investigations traced the accident to a combination of engine overheating and inadequate fire suppression capabilities—issues that prompted a comprehensive redesign of the engine nacelles, fuel systems, and emergency procedures in subsequent B-29s.

Despite this setback, the XB-29 program pushed forward. Boeing, along with the Army Air Forces, redoubled their efforts, determined to honor the legacy of those lost by delivering a bomber that would ultimately change the course of the war.

The lessons learned from XB-29 41-18335 and its sister prototypes directly shaped the design and production of the B-29 Superfortress. The aircraft became the most advanced bomber of its era, featuring a fully pressurized fuselage, advanced targeting systems, and unmatched range and payload.

More than 3,900 B-29s would be produced before the war’s end, and the type would go on to play a decisive role in the Pacific theater, including the historic atomic bomb missions over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The Superfortress continued to serve in the postwar years, setting records for range and altitude, and paving the way for the next generation of strategic bombers.

Today, the story of Boeing XB-29 41-18335 serves as a powerful reminder of the risks and sacrifices inherent in the pursuit of technological progress. Though the aircraft never saw combat, its contribution to aviation was profound. The lessons derived from its construction, testing, and tragic loss led directly to the improvements that made the B-29 a success.

Memorials and historical accounts continue to honor those who perished in the Wichita crash, and the site remains an important landmark in the annals of American engineering.

The Boeing XB-29 41-18335 was more than just an airplane; it was a crucible of innovation, courage, and learning. Its brief existence and untimely end were instrumental in forging the path toward victory in World War II and reshaping the future of military aviation. Through its legacy, the men and women who strove to build something extraordinary are remembered, and the spirit of their endeavor endures in the aircraft that have followed.

118335 taking off from Boeing Field – Seattle
Crash site of B-29 #118335

RENO BANK CLUB

“The story of the Bank Club begins in the aftermath of the great depression.”

There was much history to be discovered regarding the Bank Club in Reno, Nevada. A photograph of a gambling scene taken inside the Bank Club is shown in front of a vintage 1934 postcard sent to Mr. A. Bergdoll, who lived at 1049 W. 9th Street in Erie, Pennsylvania. Gamblers, mostly men, are standing there staring at the camera like blind sheep. Arthur Sunder Bergsdoll’s daughter, Gladys, mailed this postcard to him with the following short message,

“Dear Dad,

This is some town, pulled in here about 7:30 A.M., some of the people are still gambling. Went thru the Club Fortune. It is so beautiful. Love Glady”

I discovered no hidden secrets or anything controversial about the Bergdolls. Arthur worked as a hairdresser while his wife, Mabel, was a teacher. In the 1940 census report, I assume the person recording the information meant ‘barber’ but, for whatever reason, chose ‘hairdresser’ for Arthur’s occupation.

Arthur Bergdoll, born in 1879, signed up for the military draft in 1942. He would’ve been 63 years old at that time. It seems strange that the military would want a man of that age. During World War II, all men were required to register for the draft, and Arthur complied.

Gladys Bergdoll was born in 1909. She would’ve been 25 years old while visiting Club Fortune and a single woman, undoubtedly kicking up her heels, even though Gladys doesn’t mention this to her father. She married Clarence Martin on June 26, 1945, while Clarence had just returned from overseas duty during WWII.

Gladys’ brother, Jack Richard Bergdoll, was 11 years younger than she. He served as a U.S. Marine during World War II. Fifteen years after the war ended, Jack married Carolyn Mock in 1960. They had 2 children before Carolyn divorced him in 1960 for “gross neglect of duty.” That generally means a serious drinking problem.

The following information I dug up on the Bank Club. There’s far more here than I wanted to include, yet I decided to start from the time it opened until now. It’s amazing that the original casino building still stands!

*******************************************************

Nestled in the heart of downtown Reno, Nevada—the city famously dubbed “The Biggest Little City in the World”—the Bank Club stands as a storied relic from an era when the Silver State’s fortunes were inexorably linked to gaming, glitter, and the promise of reinvention. The tale of the Bank Club is interwoven with the rise of Reno itself, mirroring the city’s embrace of legalized gambling, its vibrant nightlife, and its reputation as a hub for both vice and opportunity.

The story of the Bank Club begins in the aftermath of the Great Depression, when Nevada sought bold new paths to economic recovery. In 1931, a pioneering piece of legislation changed the state’s trajectory forever: the legalization of gambling. Reno, already a magnet for those seeking easy divorces thanks to Nevada’s liberal residency laws, rapidly transformed into a playground for adults and a beacon for entrepreneurs eager to capitalize on the newly legal gaming scene.

One of the earliest and most prominent clubs to emerge from this new climate was the Bank Club. The club took its name from its original location: the site of a former bank building at 238 North Virginia Street. The stately structure conveyed an air of legitimacy and grandeur that set it apart from some of the more makeshift establishments emerging throughout the city.

The founders of the Bank Club recognized that Reno’s clientele was not only interested in gambling but also in an atmosphere of sophistication and excitement. The club became known for its ornate art deco architecture, its gleaming neon signage, and its commitment to providing an immersive experience for guests. Unlike many of its competitors, the Bank Club strove to blend the allure of European casinos with the rugged spirit of the American West.

By the late 1930s, the Bank Club had secured its reputation as one of Reno’s premier gaming halls. Its offerings included blackjack, craps, roulette, and the ever-popular slot machines. The club’s high ceilings, elegant chandeliers, and polished marble floors made it a favorite among both locals and tourists. The Bank Club quickly became a centerpiece in the city’s social scene, offering not only gambling but also fine dining, live music, and dancing.

During World War II, Reno continued to attract visitors from across the nation, and the Bank Club thrived. It served as a gathering place for soldiers on leave, Hollywood celebrities passing through, and business magnates seeking both recreation and relaxation. The club’s management cultivated a reputation for hospitality and discretion, making it a preferred destination for those seeking both excitement and privacy.

This era also saw the rise of several legendary figures associated with the Bank Club—colorful personalities who contributed to its mystique. Among them were influential local businesspeople, skilled gamblers, and charismatic entertainers who turned the club into a stage for memorable nights and chance encounters.

Beyond its role as a gaming destination, the Bank Club served as a hub for the Reno community. It hosted charity events, civic meetings, and holiday celebrations that helped to cement its place in the city’s collective memory. Families would gather for brunch in its elegant dining rooms, while friends met for cocktails and lively conversation in its bustling bars.

The club’s location on Virginia Street was ideal, providing easy access for visitors arriving by train or car. As Reno grew and modernized, the Bank Club remained a symbol of the city’s resilience and adaptability. Its walls bore witness to generations of Nevadans seeking fortune, fun, and belonging.

As the decades marched on, Reno’s gaming industry evolved. New casinos, resorts, and entertainment complexes emerged, competing for attention and investment. While the Bank Club remained a beloved institution, it faced increasing challenges in adapting to changing tastes and regulations.

By the 1960s and 1970s, the club experienced a period of decline. Ownership changed hands several times, and the establishment’s original grandeur began to fade. The rise of larger, more lavish casinos on the Reno Strip and, later, in Las Vegas, contributed to a shift in the region’s gaming landscape. The Bank Club, like many smaller clubs, struggled to compete with these new giants.

Despite these difficulties, the Bank Club’s legacy endured. The building itself, with its distinctive façade and architectural charm, continued to attract interest from preservationists and history enthusiasts. Efforts were made to restore and repurpose the structure, ensuring that its historical significance was not lost amid the changing tides of commerce and entertainment.

Today, the Bank Club is remembered as a symbol of Reno’s first golden age of gaming—a tangible link to a time when the city was forging its identity as a place of possibility and adventure. While the club no longer operates as a casino, its influence persists in the lively atmosphere of downtown Reno and the stories shared by longtime residents.

The building itself has found new purpose over the years, housing a variety of businesses and serving as a reminder of the city’s dynamic past. Preservation efforts have ensured that the Bank Club’s architectural beauty remains visible to visitors and locals alike.

In historical retrospectives, the Bank Club is often cited as a catalyst for Reno’s rise as a gaming capital. Its blend of elegance, excitement, and community spirit helped establish standards that were emulated by subsequent establishments throughout Nevada and beyond.

The story of the Bank Club is more than just the history of a gambling hall; it is the story of Reno itself. From its beginnings in a repurposed bank building to its heyday as a glittering social center, the club embodied the optimism and energy of an evolving city. Though the gaming tables may be silent now, the legacy of the Bank Club lives on in the streets, stories, and spirit of Reno.

For those who stroll down Virginia Street today, the echoes of laughter, the flash of neon, and the glamour of a bygone era linger in the air—a testament to the enduring allure of the Bank Club and the city it helped to shape.

The Bergdoll home in Erie, Pennsylvania, as it looks today.

CRUEL JOKE?

“Homeless people saw it as a shelter out of the storm while also trashing the interior.”

The Thomas Jefferson Hotel, an enduring symbol of Birmingham’s Gilded Age, stands as a testament to the city’s ambitions in the early twentieth century. Located in the heart of downtown Birmingham, Alabama, this grand hotel was envisioned as a premier destination for travelers, dignitaries, and locals alike.

Construction on the Thomas Jefferson Hotel began in 1925, at a time when Birmingham—often dubbed the “Magic City” for its rapid industrial growth—was eager to showcase its prosperity. Designed by the architectural firm Holabird & Root, along with local architect William Lee Stoddart, the hotel was built in the Beaux-Arts style, featuring ornate details, a limestone façade, and elaborate interior spaces. When it opened its doors in 1929, the Thomas Jefferson Hotel soared 19 stories high, making it one of the tallest buildings in Birmingham at that time.

The hotel quickly became the social epicenter of the city. Its luxurious ballrooms, lavish dining facilities, and richly decorated guest rooms attracted celebrities, business leaders, and even United States presidents. It was especially renowned for its vibrant rooftop ballroom and the iconic zeppelin mooring mast, a distinctive architectural feature that crowned the building and became a recognizable part of Birmingham’s skyline.

As the decades passed and the city’s fortunes shifted, the Thomas Jefferson Hotel experienced a gradual decline. Changes in travel patterns, the rise of highway motels, and urban renewal contributed to the hotel’s closing in the early 1980s. The once-grand halls stood empty, and the building became a haunting reminder of Birmingham’s former glory. Homeless people saw it as a shelter out of the storm while also trashing the interior.

Despite years of neglect, the hotel’s architectural significance and enduring charm kept hope alive for its restoration. In the 2000s, preservationists and developers rallied to save the building, recognizing its historical value and potential for revival. After extensive renovations, the hotel reopened in 2017 as the Thomas Jefferson Tower, featuring modern apartments, event spaces, and commercial venues while carefully preserving its historic elements.

Today, the Thomas Jefferson Hotel—now Thomas Jefferson Tower—remains a cherished landmark in Birmingham. Its storied past, architectural grandeur, and successful revitalization symbolize the city’s resilience and dedication to preserving its unique heritage. The building continues to watch over downtown Birmingham, linking the city’s illustrious history with its vibrant present and future.

An old postcard of the hotel from the 1940s shows this stately building before being turned into apartments. A man named Vernon sent the postcard to Mrs. Nina Rhoades in Springfield, Ohio. The postmark date is July 15, 1944. It was mailed from Birmingham.

“Hi Hon,

Don’t think I’ll be back these babes are tops some pumpkins I’d say. Don’t you all wish you was a southern belle. I will probably go on to New Orleans. I got a honey with me from there. bye, bye don’t worry.

Vernon”

Vernon Wesley Rhoades would’ve been 38 when he sent this postcard to his wife, whom he’d been married to for 13 years. Was it a cruel joke, or were they fighting? I tend to believe the former—and I’d bet Mrs. Nina Alice Rhoades had a good laugh over it. After reading Vernon’s bio, he does not come across as a Casanova.

Vernon served two years in the US Army and worked as a machinist for Kelsey-Hayes for most of his life. He belonged to the Knights of Pythias Lodge for 49 years. This is described as a secret organization. It seems reasonable that Vernon was attending a meeting of this group in Birmingham.

Vernon and Nina wed on August 15, 1931. They stayed together until Vernon died in 1987, with Nina passing away in 1991. The couple had one daughter and a son, Judith and James.

Thomas Jefferson Tower Apartments

SOLDIER FOR LIFE

“Gust Mihleder lived an adventurous career, staying in the military almost his whole life.”

A postcard that I recently snagged was mailed from Tanana, Alaska, on February 10, 1911, to Mrs. J.T. Hoover in Pasco, Washington. On the front of the RPPC (real picture postcard) is a picture of US Army Corporal Gust Mihleder in full Arctic gear, standing beside a pair of tall snowshoes, while smoking a pipe.

The message on both front and back is most informative. Corporal Mihleder was assigned to Company “A” – 16th US Infantry.  The card was mailed from Tanana, Alaska. Corporal Mihleder was stationed at Fort Gibbon near the Tanana village in the Yukon-Koyukuk area near the Yukon River. The following message was handwritten in perfect cursive and flawless spelling on the back:

“8/8/11

Dear Mrs. Hoover: Your card and letter rec’d. Was much pleased to hear from you, and hope you will like your new home, and that the climate way cause Mr. Hoover’s complete recovery. Will write as soon as I can find a moment to myself. What do you think of the Alaskan style of clothing and would you know me in this outfit. All the boys are well and send their kindest regards. Will write in a few days. Sincerely.

Gust Mihleder”

On top of the photo of Gust was written the following:

“Ready for a “hike” on snow shoes at Fort Gibbon, Alaska, 58 below zero. How does that suit you for cold?”

Mrs. J.T. Hoover and her husband were undoubtedly very close friends of Gust Mihleder, and Gust was probably a longtime pal with J.T., as they both lived in Franklin, Pennsylvania, and went to school there. Both the Mihleder parents and Hoover descendants were born in Germany. J.T. Hoover’s mom, Minta,was a school teacher at one time.

Mr. and Mrs. Hoover had only lived in Pasco, Washington, for a short time, one year, having relocated there from Littlerock, Arkansas, because of John Thomas Hoover’s health.

John Thomas Hoover was a successful businessman as well as being involved in the banking industry. He was a senior officer with the German Bank of Littlerock. John married Elizabeth “Lizzie” Ellen Knox on January 29,1899. She chose to go by Mrs. J.T. Hoover, taking her husband’s name as many married women often did back then.

After John T. Hoover passed away on May 6, 1911, at the young age of 39, the body was sent from Pasco to Arkansas, where it lay in the state capitol rotunda until the service. Mr. Hoover’s funeral was attended by a good number of family, friends, and business associates.

Mrs. J.T. Hoover, now a young widow, moved from Arkansas to Oregon to be close to her sister and three brothers. There, she married a much older man named Willis E. McElroy in 1917. He was the music director for the Portland Symphony Orchestra.

That marriage lasted one year before she divorced him for being unfaithful. Elizabeth told the judge that he began cheating on her two weeks after they tied the knot. It would’ve been a short-lived marriage even if they stayed together, as Willis McElroy passed in 1927 from a sudden heart attack.

Having changed her name back, Mrs. J.T. Hoover died in Gilchrist, Oregon, in 1942, at the age of 59. She was buried in Portland with her tombstone saying: Elizabeth Ellen Hoover.

Gust Mihleder lived an adventurous life, staying in the military almost his whole life. He never married. Not only did he serve his country in Alaska, but he fought battles in the Spanish-American War, in Panama, the Philippines, and ultimately, in WWI. With further research, I believe I’d find he received many rewards during his extensive service.

Lieutenant Gus Mihleder began his military career as an enlisted private, was promoted to corporal, then sergeant, first sergeant, and ultimately became a lieutenant. Not many soldiers advanced from enlisted to officer rank without having an exemplary record.

During his foreign assignments, he wrote many lengthy letters to his father, who shared them with a local newspaper. Gust Mihleder was an accomplished writer and storyteller, as his letters attest. Someday, when time allows, I’ll transcribe and print them all.

Passing away on June 22, 1952, at the age of 75, Lieutenant Gust Mihleder is buried with honors at Antietam National Cemetery in Maryland, amongst other war veterans, including those killed during the Battle of Antietam during the American Civil War. It appears that Lieutenant Mihleder’s life is one worthy of a book or movie.

Fort Gibbon – 1908

SHASTA RETREAT, CALIFORNIA

“Ten dollars in 1911 is equivalent to $340.05 today…”

I’ve never heard of Shasta Retreat, California, until I found a postcard with a picture of the railroad stop on it. A caption under the photos says: Train Arriving At Depot. Shasta Retreat, California. A steam locomotive is pulling up with passengers ready to board.

Shasta Retreat was a place that a person named Annie was visiting. I make this judgment based on a short letter written on the back of the card by her.

“Shasta Retreat   6/26/1911

Dear Will,

Re’cd Ma’s and Henry’s postels. Tell ma not to worry about the river for swimming, it’s out of the question. Send me ten dollars by Wells Fargo that is a money order. Address it to Shasta Retreat, Siskiyou Co. Cal. I can cash it at the post office here. Having fine time!

With love from

Annie”

The card was addressed to:

Mr. Will Nickel

912 Potrero Avenue

San Francisco

Calif

It took me a bit of sleuthing to find out who the Nickels were. They hailed from Germany, moving there from Oregon, and then to San Francisco, where the head of the household, Henry J. Nickel, was a cabinetmaker. Johanna was his wife, while William E. and Henry Jr. were Annie’s brothers.

One of the young men, William, worked as a machinist. Henry Jr. took up cabinetmaking like his father. In Annie’s mentioning Henry in the postcard, this person was undoubtedly her younger brother and not her father.

Ten dollars in 1911 is equivalent to $340.05 today, so Annie was asking for a substantial amount of cash. She worked as a dressmaker, so it seems reasonable that money was no problem.

I assume she was staying at some resort or getaway in Shasta. The river that Annie’s mom was so concerned about was most likely the Shasta River. It was a popular swimming spot at that time.

Henry Nickel Sr. passed away in 1922. Oddly enough, his gravestone says: Henry Nickels. Perhaps the stone maker made a mistake? His wife, Johanna, died on August 8, 1945, at the age of 90.  She was living with her daughter and a son.

William E. Nickel died in 1969 at the age of 85. Anna “Annie” lived to be 87, dying in 1974. Henry Jr., the youngest, died in 1973. I could not find that Annie, Henry Jr., or William E. Nickel ever married.

This family, like most German people were back then, was hardworking, industrious, and very close to each other. The old English saying, “Blood is thicker than water!” seems to hold true for Henry Nickel Sr., Johanna, and their children.

I could not find that Shasta Retreat still exists. Perhaps it too faded off into eternity!

MATING CALL?

“Rejection is a terrible thing…”

I’ve come across many unusual postcards during my project, with some of them unreadable, while others seemingly contained secret coded messages that I couldn’t decipher. I’ll look over these types of cards and then pass on writing anything, viewing it as a waste of time.

This unusual card is one of those, except that the message a man sent from Alaska to a single girl in Chicago gets an award for being tasteless, although the sender probably didn’t see it as such.

The card, postmarked in Saint Michael, Alaska, shows a flock of white seagulls on a beach with the caption: “A Northern Convention” or a Family Reunion. Sea Gulls in Alaska.

I believe what the gulls are actually doing is mating. Miss Vera Lamb undoubtedly saw things the same after reading the letter, written by someone with the last name of Mohring.

“March 7, 1910

The seagulls reunion is here. A chance for us? At least I hope so.

Yours

Mohring”

Mr. Frederick J. Mohring was the person sending this card, with a 1910 census showing him as a soldier with the US Army stationed at Fort Saint Michael. He was 24 at this time—married—with a child. Rejection is a terrible thing, yet in this case, the single lady made the right decision.

Private Fred Mohring had wed Lillie May Agnew in 1905. A daughter came soon after. Lillie was a native of Wichita, Kansas, and from a good family. Frederick Mohring enlisted in 1904 and was discharged from military service in 1933. Fred must’ve got his act together for them to have stayed hitched to the end. They’re buried together in Pennsylvania.

If Vera had good friends in 1910, they undoubtedly steered her clear of married men. Miss Vera Maude Lamb eventually found a Frederick, but not Frederick Mohring. She became Mrs. Frederick Ralph Corbett on March 10, 1917, and they spent the rest of their lives in sunny southern California.

WORSE THAN NOWHERE

“They were sometimes sent home in a pine box or strung up by vigilantes.”

Englewood, Kansas

Almost every state has a ghost town, with some having hundreds, like Texas. The Lone Star State tops them all with over 500. Kansas isn’t far behind Texas, with 308 such locations.

Alaska has approximately 100 ghost towns, with me having visited the most recognizable, Iditarod. Add to that Phoenix, Alaska, and Susitna Landing, two sites that most Alaskans don’t know existed. The 100 former Alaska ghost towns also include villages, fishing and cannery sites, military posts, and mining locations.

An old postcard I stumbled across isn’t from Texas or Alaska, but rather from Kansas. Englewood, Kansas, still exists, but most of the buildings are vacant or uninhabitable. A video I watched on Englewood shows things to be quite forlorn and void of people. The population in 2025 was recorded as 49, with a yearly decline.

The town organizers of Englewood in 1884 had high aspirations for its success, having “Veritable New Chicago of the Great Southwest” printed in the local newspaper. At one time, there were four dry goods stores located there, three drug stores, two lumber yards, and The Leader-Tribune newspaper. Part of that success had to do with the railroad passing through.

During the early years, crime was kept quite low, even though Englewood was only four miles from the Oklahoma border. That section of Oklahoma, known as no man’s land, had zero law enforcement, with criminals often coming across state lines to raise havoc in Englewood. They were sometimes sent home in a pine box or strung up by vigilantes.

On July 4, 1885, a drunken cowboy fired his pistol off as part of the celebration. John Sconce was eventually tracked down by the Englewood sheriff, and after an exchange of gunfire, Sconce was shot dead.

During a social dance in Englewood on August 6, 1885, a few women with their chaperones, Charles and W.G. Peck, decided to leave the event around midnight. An inebriated cowboy, Philip Scannon, not wanting to see the ladies go because he still wanted to dance, tried to stop the party from leaving.

When a fracas broke out, the liquored-up cowboy struck Charles Peck over the head with his pistol, inflicting a nasty wound. Philip Scannon was immediately shot dead by the Peck brothers. The Pecks must’ve been found not guilty later on because newspaper articles have them still buying and selling property soon after.

Getting back to my postcard, times were probably not as rough and tumble in Englewood in 1909 as they were in the 1880s. Someone named Leonard sent Miss Margaret Rusco in Great Bend, Kansas, this card from the Englewood post office on August 19, 1909.

A one-cent Benjamin Franklin stamp was hand-cancelled by Thomas Todd, the acting postmaster. Leonard’s short letter reads as follows:

“Englewood, KS 8/18

Dear Margaret

This town is worse than nowhere. Not much of a buy. Am going by coach in morning and drive across to Pratt and will work the R.I. the rest of week. Leonhard”

Research shows that one month later, on September 9, Margaret Rusco became the bride of Leonhard Adler. Despite Leonard’s lack of writing with a romantic flair, the couple stayed together until both passed away in 1966 and 1967.

The R.I. that Leonard mentioned in the postcard is the Rock Island Railroad, which was built through various Kansas towns but not Englewood. A different railroad stopped there. Leonhard Adler was evidently traveling for business when he wrote Margaret.

Leonhard and his wife owned Adler Elevator and Grain Company and were well-to-do financially. Leonhard served as Mayor of Goddard, Kansas, for several terms. They had no children.

The couple lived normal and respectful lives based upon newspaper accounts, which include their obituaries. Those two cowboys, Philip Scannon and John Sconce, along with other desperadoes, would have lived much longer had they merely stayed away from the bottle.

Unfortunately, nothing has really changed where excess drinking and deaths are concerned. The major difference today is that unruly cowboys generally drive pickup trucks rather than ride horses.

Englewood, Kansas, railroad depot

FUDDY DUDDY

“It took significant time and research just to decipher the names…”

I’ve come across many postcards that were never stamped, thus they were never sent through regular mail. Someone either hand-carried a card to the recipient, or it was never delivered. In one of these cases, the sender was killed standing outside a post office. Archived newspaper accounts from back then prove this.

One unique card I came across made me chuckle out loud, especially after researching the sender and recipient. It took significant time and research just to decipher the names, as the sender’s handwriting is shaky at most.

The front of the postcard shows a man sitting at a small table with a towel wrapped around his head. It appears he’s in great pain. A bottle of what appears to be wine is seen on the table along with a glass. Underneath the picture, printed by the postcard manufacturer, the following statement is written: The Morning After. Underneath that in smudged ink, most likely written by the sender, “Has 7 glasses.”

The card is addressed to C.E. Owen in Frankfort, Kansas. The sender goes by the initials, E.J.H. Cephas E. Owen is the name of the recipient, while Eliza Jane Harp was the sender. Both Frankfort residents were senior citizens, with Eliza in her late 80s at the time she wrote her shaky message. Eliza composed her letter in reply to one that Cephas sent her. I transcribed things exactly as written.

“Dear Friend – the card you sent me I did not need to keep your memory because it was certinly all sight first. Regards from one and all again thank, E.J.H.”

Cephas was around 65 when he received it. I make these age assumptions based upon Eliza’s death on November 17, 1909. The card had to have been written up to that time.

Records indicate that Cephas Owen attended the Presbyterian Church in Frankfort, while Eliza Harp worshipped at a Methodist Church. This postcard would’ve been considered risqué or offensive by some church members, yet I tend to believe Eliza or Cephas’ ministers would’ve seen candor in it, especially being sent from an almost 90-year-old woman. I know my pastor would think so today.

Eliza had a sense of humor much like my wife. Joleen loves to send funny cards to family and friends, especially certain cousins, during birthdays. Eliza Harp’s friend, Cephas, must’ve thought the postcard funny; otherwise, it wouldn’t have survived.

For me, this card proves that not all old folks back in the day were stick-in-the-mud or fuddy-duddy, as people often think. They were smart enough to know, “Laughter is the best medicine!” It worked for both of these Frankfort residents as they each lived a full life.

CANYON DIABLO, ARIZONA

“Perhaps some of John Shaw and William Evans’ stolen silver dollars still wait to be found!”

When I first saw a couple of strange names on a 1917 postcard from Canyon Diablo, Arizona, my mind immediately conjured up a law firm. Finckel & Wigglesworth has a good ring to it.

Canyon Diablo is an interesting place in itself. Researching things, the former town was in Coconino County near a canyon called Canyon Diablo. In Spanish, that means “Hells Canyon.” I traced the town’s roots back to a railroad bridge being built over the deep canyon. The railroad community was well and alive in 1880, but died off by the early 20th century. It’s now a ghost town with a few building foundations remaining.

Canyon Diablo is considered one of the most wicked and dangerous Old West communities to ever exist. It had a fair share of saloons, brothels, and gambling houses. Crime was everywhere with no lawmen available, while Main Street was actually named Hell Street.

The first sheriff who put on a tin badge in Canyon Diablo only wore it for perhaps five hours before he was killed. Four others followed him to the grave in a little over two years. It’s claimed that murders were a daily occurrence and that the cemetery quickly filled to capacity. Corpses were then buried wherever open ground could be found.

On April 5, 1905, two bandits, John Shaw and William Evans, held up some gamblers in the Winslow, Arizona, Wigwam Saloon. Shaw and Evans escaped with what’s believed to be around $300 in silver dollars.

Three lawmen, Pete Pemberton, Bob Giles, and Chet Houck, immediately picked up their trail, discovering silver dollars accidentally dropped along the trail. The trio eventually came across the robbers standing outside a trading post in Canyon Diablo.

Telling John Shaw and William Evans that they needed to be searched, the criminals drew their guns first and began firing. The sheriff and his marshals were faster on the draw, with William Evans injured, with John Shaw killed. Sheriff Chet Houck was only slightly injured, with a bullet grazing the outside of his stomach.

William Evans was taken back to Winslow, with John Shaw buried in a wooden coffin in Canyon Diablo. When word reached a group of cowboys about the killing of Shaw, and knowing that he didn’t get to finish his shot of whiskey the night of the robbery, they left Winslow and decided to go to Canyon Diablo and give him one last drink.

Exhuming Shaw’s body from its coffin, the cowboys lifted him out, stood him up, and then proceeded to give the dead man his final shot of liquor. Photos were taken before John Shaw was reburied with the open bottle placed beside him.

There’s much more history to Canyon Diablo, enough so to fill a book. I’ll leave my research at that, moving on to those names written within the old postcard. Before leaving, though, a postmark from the Canyon Diablo post office is quite rare, as it was only open for a few years.

In compiling this story, I picked up the vintage, giant cactus postcard for only $4.29. The person selling it did not know the value of rare postmarks. I only mention this because you, too, can find these bargains by diligently looking at cards on eBay. I don’t mind if you beat me out of one, as it’ll save me a few dollars and make for one less story to write.

My card was sent to Mrs. G.S. Finckel in Washington, DC. The person mailing it from Canyon Diablo was either named Al or those are their initials. Al mentions meeting up with Mrs. Dr. Wigglesworth in Fort Defiance. Dr. Wigglesworth is a person of unique significance in Arizona history. The letter on the front of the postcard is as follows, with no corrections:

“Canyon Diablo, Ariz – Nov 7

Just left Fort Defiance last night, where found Edna Wright, now Mrs. Dr. Wigglesworth & formerly with me in E’ Central High in 1892 + 3. Your neighbor’s sister you know. Maybe we didn’t have a good old Washington talk. Love to all

Al”

Edna Wright went to Central High School in Washington, DC as did her husband, Matthew Albert Wigglesworth. Mrs. G.S. Finckel (Gertrude Seaver Finckel) went there as well. Gertrude’s husband, Paul Finckel, was a patent attorney in Washington, making my prediction right on target for assumed attorneys, Finckel and Wigglesworth.

Paul Finckel was an esteemed musician as well, with Paul playing the cello in many Washington concerts. His wife, Gertrude, was a social butterfly in the community, knowing many distinguished people.

Dr. Albert Wigglesworth was a pioneer doctor and one of the first to devote his medical knowledge to American Indigenous Indians from 1900 – 1925. In his own words, he said the following: “I was the only physician for some 30,000 Indians on a reservation of 16 million acres—almost double the area of Connecticut and Massachusetts combined.”

Fort Defiance, as mentioned by the postcard writer, was one of the Navajo communities where Dr. Wigglesworth practiced medicine. In 1870, the first government school for Navajo children was established there.

There’s so much more to be found regarding Canyon Diablo, Dr. and Mrs. Wigglesworth, as well as the Finckel family. I’ll leave things at this point, believing I’ve given a brief synopsis on all three. Plans for this winter are to visit Canyon Diablo and bring along my metal detector, of course. Perhaps some of John Shaw and William Evans’ stolen silver dollars still wait to be found!

1908 photo of the old bridge over Diablo Canyon
New bridge over Diablo Canyon
Dr. Albert Matthew Wigglesworth

Outlaw John Shaw (middle)

COUNTRY DOCTOR

“There was so much history to this country doctor that I was spellbound reading it all.”

I’ve seen plenty of postcards from the Grand Canyon, and this one, postmarked 1937, didn’t truly excite me. Someone had removed the stamp, making it worth far less from a collector’s standpoint. Carefully looking things over, I wondered if the recipient and the sender might not be people of great interest. My prediction was correct.

Someone named Lura sent it to Dr. C.M. McCracken, Fairview Road, Star Route, in Asheville, North Carolina. Going by the address alone, I knew it was a rural area. The message within immediately told me the sender was a child of Dr. McCracken:

“Dear Daddy,

We’re camping here at Grand Canyon to-night. It is beautiful. Time is passing almost too quickly. Love to all, Lura.”

The postmark date is August 5, 1937; thus, it would’ve still been quite warm for summer. According to the August 12, 1937, “Williams News” newspaper, it was 92 for a high and 57 for a low in Williams, Arizona. The distance is 56 miles from the Grand Canyon to Williams, and the temperature would have been very close to the same.

Researching Dr. McCracken, there was so much history to this country doctor that I was spellbound reading it all. The house where the McCrackens lived was special all in itself, at least now it is.

Rather than try to add a small amount of information to my article, I decided to take what was written in the National Historic Register, word by word, about Dr. Cicero McCracken, his family, and their dwellings. Miss Purdy, my AI helpmate, found a few typos and archaic sentence structures that she kindly took care of.

“The Dr. Cicero McAfee McCracken House, a well-preserved Foursquare-style frame dwelling erected in 1924, is important in the history of Fairview and Buncombe County as the residence of a long-time country doctor whose rural practice spanned a period of four-and-a-half decades in his adopted community of Fairview and the surrounding region.

Dr. McCracken (1868-1942), a native of Haywood County and a member of the large McCracken family who resided in and around the Crabtree community, received his medical education in the then-typical combination of reading and work with a local physician, Dr. C. B. Roberts of Clyde, North Carolina, and study at Vanderbilt University Dental School and the North Carolina Medical College where he graduated in 1896.

In the summer of 1896, he located in the small village of Fairview on the Asheville-Charlotte Highway, where he opened his medical office and, in 1897, was married to Helen Lura Clayton (1878-1920). From at least the turn of the century until 1924, Dr. McCracken and his large family lived in houses in the village. For much of this period, he occupied a house immediately south of the Fairview Baptist Church: it was pulled down in the mid-1980s.

In 1924, a widower with seven children, Dr. McCracken, built and occupied a new house, office, and garage on the north side of the Charlotte Highway, opposite the Fairview School campus. Those buildings, surviving to the present, were his home and office until his death on 8 December 1942.

A member of the Fairview School Board (1913-1929) and the Buncombe County Board of Health (1918-1924), he was accorded the tribute of a biographical sketch in the Bulletin of the Buncombe County Medical Society in 1939 and the honor of a large public funeral in the auditorium of the Fairview School from whence his body was carried to Cane Creek Cemetery.

The Dr. Cicero McAfee McCracken House is eligible for listing in the National Register under Criterion B for its association with the productive life of Dr. McCracken and as the major surviving building associated with his career: his practice embraced a territory from Asheville to Rutherfordton and from Black Mountain into Henderson County.

The house is eligible for listing in the area of Health and Medicine for its association with the practice of a well-known and well-respected doctor whose career spanned four-and-a-half decades in Fairview and where he exercised parallel positions of leadership in his church, community, and profession.

Cicero McAfee McCracken (1868-1942), the builder and occupant of the house in Fairview which bears his name, was a member of the large McCracken family of Haywood County, North Carolina. The progenitor of that family, Joseph Cass McCracken (1776-1848), was born on 4 January 1776 in Habersham County, Georgia, the son of David E. McCracken (1750-1812).

On 15 March 1798, Joseph McCracken was married to Sarah Vaughan (1779-1867), the daughter of George and Dorcus Vaughan. The couple’s first child, a daughter named Carey (1799-1866), was born on 13 January 1799. According to family tradition, Joseph McCracken departed Georgia in 1800, together with his wife and young daughter, and removed to western North Carolina, where he settled on a farm on Crabtree Creek in what is now Haywood County.

Over the course of some forty-eight years, McCracken and his family prospered and expanded their holding, and for the remainder of the nineteenth century, the McCracken family would be associated with the Crabtree community. Twelve additional children were born to Joseph and Sarah McCracken between 1800 and 1821: ten of the thirteen children would remain in Haywood County, where they, too, would raise large families.

Russell McCracken (1806-1891), Cicero McCracken’s grandfather, was born in Haywood County on 24 October 1806, the fifth child and fourth son of Joseph and Sarah McCracken. He was married to Margaret Crocket Garrett (1810-1874) and, like his father, he, too, sired a large family. His eldest son, Joseph Franklin McCracken (1829-1913), was to become the father of Cicero McCracken.

Joseph Franklin McCracken was born on 25 April 1829, and on 19 October 1854, he married Julia Ann Howell. Fourteen children were born to Joseph Franklin and Julia Ann McCracken between 1855 and 1879: Cicero McCracken was the ninth child and the fourth son.

The nurturing influence of this large family proved to be important in Cicero McCracken’s life, and it was an influence that shaped both his professional practice and the life of the large family that he, in turn, sired and educated. Cicero McCracken was born on 19 September 1868 at Crabtree in Haywood County and spent his formative years on the family farm and in the companionship of dozens of cousins and other relatives.

He was educated in the local schools and at the Clyde Institute, a private school. In July 1890, he entered into a contract with the committeemen of District No. 5 of Haywood County to teach in the white public school at the rate of $25.00 per month; it is not known how long he served as a school teacher.

It appears that Cicero McCracken was disposed toward medicine from a relatively early age. An account of his medical training, published in a biographical sketch in the October 1939 number of the Bulletin of the Buncombe County Medical Society, outlines the combination of tutorial and formal study by which he gained his medical education:

In 1889, Dr. McCracken chose as his preceptor Dr. C. B. Roberts of Clyde, North Carolina, and for two years he read medicine in the office of Dr. Roberts and went with him on visits to his patients. In 1891, after two years with Dr. Roberts, Dr. McCracken entered Vanderbilt Medical College, Nashville, Tenn. He studied there for one year and then returned to Clyde, North Carolina, to practice with Dr. Roberts again for two years.

In 1894, he entered the North Carolina Medical College, then located at Davidson College, Davidson, North Carolina. He graduated from that school in the spring of 1896. In May 1896, he passed the State Board of Medical Examiners and was licensed to practice medicine. It is unclear at present why Cicero McCracken did not return to his native Haywood County to practice medicine; instead, he chose to locate his practice in the small, growing community of Fairview, then without a doctor, which was located a dozen or so miles to the southeast of Asheville in Buncombe County.

It may have been as well the attraction of the Fairview Academy, a private boarding school established there in 1888, where he saw the potential of educating his future family. Fairview was also located on the main road, passing through Rutherfordton, between Asheville and Charlotte, and was a stop on the stage line which connected the two principal cities in western North Carolina.

In August 1896, he is said to have opened an office in Fairview, presumably in rented quarters. Just over a year later, on 8 December 1897, he was married to Helen Lura Clayton (1878-1920), the daughter of R. C. Clayton of Cane Creek. On 3 March 1899, Elizabeth Ann McCracken (1899-1968) became the firstborn of eight children born to Dr. and Mrs. McCracken between 1899 and 1916.

The other seven children were: Beatrice Helen (1901-1966); Marvin Howell (1903-1974); Clayton Houston (1906-1983); Joseph Franklin (1908); Cicero McAfee, Jr. (b. 1909); Joseph Glenn (1913-1991); and Lura (born 1916).

On 16 March 1899, thirteen days after the birth of his daughter, Cicero McCracken purchased a one-acre tract of land in Fairview Township from Jason Ashworth. It was the first of some twenty-one tracts, mostly in Fairview Township, which McCracken acquired in the period up to 28 March 1917. An examination of the grantee and grantor indexes to deeds in Buncombe County indicates that McCracken was involved in a small real estate business in and around Fairview during the opening decades of the twentieth century, which supplemented his income as a physician.

Five of these tracts, adjoining each other, became the principal house tract of 101.60 acres on the Charlotte Highway (US 74) on which McCracken would build this house in 1924. Whether the parcel he purchased in 1899 was the tract on which he lived in the center of Fairview has not been determined; however, he occupied a two-story frame Victorian house immediately south of the Fairview Baptist Church from around the turn of the century until relocating this house in 1924. In February 1925, the grounds of the house were subdivided into lots. That house was eventually sold and stood into the mid-1980s when it was pulled down.

From the time of his arrival in Fairview in 1896 until he died in 1942—a period of forty-six years—Dr. Cicero McAfee McCracken was a respected leader in the community and a figure well-known throughout Buncombe County. During these four-and-a-half decades, he practiced medicine in now lost offices at Fairview, and later in a one-story frame building erected in 1924, which survives on this property.

Throughout this long period, approaching a half-century, he was one of a small but highly respected group of men known as “Country Doctors.” In the nineteenth century and through the opening decades of the twentieth century, such men were acknowledged as leaders in the community by virtue of their profession: together with ministers, they were the most respected members of their community.

Dr. McCracken and other men in this group were not only turned to for medical advice, but for their opinions on a variety of topics and for civic leadership. According to the biographical sketch published in 1939 and two obituaries in 1942, Dr. McCracken exercised leadership in his profession, his church, and his adopted community of Fairview for the long tenure of his residency there.

In part because of his own difficulty in gaining an education, he was a strong advocate for education in Fairview. The Fairview Academy, a private school, remained in operation until 1913: in 1904, a small frame public school was erected at Fairview for the sum of $525 by A. B. Clayton, possibly a kinsman of Mrs. McCracken.

In 1907, Fairview became the site of one of three high schools established in Buncombe County that year. In 1913, Dr. McCracken became a member of the Fairview School Board and served as a member until 1929. It was during this period that he built this house on the north side of the Charlotte Highway, directly opposite the Fairview School campus.

In 1918, he became a member of the Buncombe County Board of Health and served until 1924. He was a lifelong member of the Baptist Church and a member of the Fairview Baptist Church from the time of his arrival in the community until his death. He was also a member of the Biltmore Masonic Lodge.

With the birth of his eighth child and third daughter, Lura, in 1916, the McCracken household consisted of the doctor, Mrs. McCracken, three daughters, and four sons. Joseph Franklin McCracken, named for his paternal grandfather, was born and died in 1908.

For most, if not all, of the first two decades of the century, the family occupied the house standing south of the Fairview Baptist Church. On 5 June 1920, Helen Lura (Clayton) McCracken died at the age of forty-two; she was buried at the Cane Creek Cemetery at Fairview. For seven years, until his marriage in 1927, Dr. McCracken remained a widower and raised his family, presumably with the help of his two eldest daughters.

In about 1923, Dr. McCracken determined to erect a new house—this house—for his family on an assembled tract of just over one hundred acres which lay on the north side of the Charlotte Highway (US 74) directly across the road from the Fairview School. According to family tradition, this decision was made so that his youngest children would be closer to school.

The lumber for the house was cut from his acreage. Four local builders, Bob Oates, Andy Wright, George Fite, and Jay Hill, have been identified as the builders of the two-story frame Foursquare-style house. These builders also erected the frame office and the garage, now much overbuilt, which stands at the rear of the house. Following a center-hall, double-pile plan, the house is firmly in the American Foursquare tradition, well-built yet simply finished.

It is reasonable to ascribe the unusually plain finish of the interior of the house to the fact that it was built by men for a man, without the refinements that a wife might have encouraged in its construction. Except for the addition of aluminum siding in the mid-1950s, it survives today virtually as built in 1924.

Initially, electric power at the house and office was supplied by a Delco system acquired by Dr. McCracken. He also constructed a reservoir to provide running water for the house’s kitchen and two bathrooms.

On 10 August 1927, Dr. McCracken was married to Johnnie Ruth Turner (1897-1987) of Winnsboro, Fairfield County, South Carolina. She was a graduate of the Charlotte Sanatorium School of Nursing. A daughter, Ruth Brice McCracken, was born in 1928; the family circle was completed by the birth of two sons, John Turner McCracken in 1930 and Julian Woodburn McCracken in 1932.

The first years of the marriage were enjoyed in the prosperity that characterized life in many places in the 1920s; however, after the Crash of 1929, the condition of the McCracken finances worsened. During the late 1910s and 1920s, and the early 1930s, the education of his children was a great expense to the doctor.

His three daughters graduated from the University of North Carolina at Greensboro (then a Woman’s College of the University of North Carolina), and his four sons of the first marriage all attended Wake Forest University, and three graduated from the school. Most of them went on to take secondary degrees, and all took up professions in the fields of public education, medicine, and dentistry.

Although the family garden and certain farm crops would have supplied most of the necessary foodstuffs for the family, together with other items bartered in exchange for medical services, there was a high need for income to meet the educational fees of his children.

On 15 August 1931, the homeplace and its 101.60 acres were placed under mortgage for the sum of $1,500 to the Federal Land. Bank of Columbia, South Carolina. The principal and interest would not be paid off until April 1944, a year and a half after Dr. McCracken’s death.

These straitened circumstances of the McCracken family were not unusual in Buncombe County in the 1930s. The high life of Asheville’s 1920s boom was brought to a cruel, grinding halt in 1930. On 20 November 1930, the Central Bank and Trust Company of Asheville, with assets in excess of $52 million dollars, failed to open its doors, and other smaller banks likewise failed in this period.

Funds and investments of both the city of Asheville and Buncombe County disappeared in the collapse of the city’s banks, and many businesses likewise were forced to close their doors. The depression spread into Buncombe County and to Fairview. The McCracken family would never recover the financial position they enjoyed previously; however, they retained their house and a warm family life, and all of the children received good educations.

In the late 1930s, Dr. McCracken’s stamina began to weaken; however, he continued to practice medicine, and he sometimes saw patients in the northeast corner room of his residence. He became critically ill in the autumn of 1942 and died in the morning of 8 December 1942, survived by his widow and ten children who ranged in age from forty-two to ten years of age.

Obituaries in the Asheville TIMES, the city’s afternoon paper, and the Asheville CITIZEN, the morning newspaper, both lauded him as a “well-known physician” and reported the broad outline of his life. Because of the affection and esteem in which Dr. McCracken was held by Fairview, his funeral was held in the auditorium of the Fairview School, a public hall which could seat a larger number of mourners than the Baptist Church. He was buried beside his first wife at the local Cane Creek Cemetery.

Dr. McCracken’s death, in very reduced circumstances, would eventually force his family to give up their Fairview home. Now a widow, Mrs. McCracken relocated the medical office back to its present position near the house in 1943 and used it as a rental dwelling. During 1943, however, it became clear that she would not be able to remain in Fairview.

Early in 1944, she set about to relocate the family in Asheville. Final payments were made in April 1944 to satisfy the mortgage with the Federal Land Bank. Simultaneously, she sold this house and its 101.60 acres by deed of 28 March 1944 to J. M. and Bertha Anderson of Haywood County, North Carolina. That same year, she acquired property on Woodlawn Avenue in Asheville, and in 1945, she acquired additional property on Montford Avenue in the city.

In the 1944 ASHEVILLE CITY DIRECTORY, she is listed as a resident of 67 Cumberland Avenue. In the 1945-1946 edition of the ASHEVILLE CITY DIRECTORY, she is listed as the proprietor of the McCracken Nursing Home at 199 Montford Avenue. Her eldest stepson, Dr. Marvin Howell McCracken (1903-1974), had his medical offices a few blocks away at 346 Montford Avenue.

For three decades, from 1944 until 1974, the McCracken house was the residence of a series of owners who might also have rented the former medical offices as a dwelling. J. M. and Bertha Anderson held the property until 19 September 1950, when they sold the house and its reduced lot of 21.90 acres to L. H. and Janet R. Holmes.

On 26 May 1954, L. H. and Janet R. Holmes sold the house and its 21.90 acres to Lloyd and Helen Roberson. The property eventually passed into the ownership of Heritage, Inc., which subdivided the acreage that lay to the rear of the house. On 2 August 1974, Heritage, Inc. conveyed the McCracken house, the garage, Dr. McCracken’s former office, and its reduced grounds of 2.96 acres to Julian Woodburn McCracken and his wife, Sarah MaCrae McCracken.

For nine years, McCracken rented out the house. Julian Woodburn McCracken (born October 1932) had been a lad of ten when his father died and, at the age of twelve, he left his childhood home to live on Montford Avenue in Asheville. Like his elder brother, John, he was educated at Christ School, Arden. Following family tradition, he attended Wake Forest University; however, he transferred to Clemson University.

He was married to Sarah Woodward McRae in June 1955: two months later, in August, he graduated from Clemson University with a B.S. degree. He also received an M.B.A. degree from Pepperdine University in 1972. Julian McCracken entered the United States Army and retired in 1983 in the grade of colonel at Fort McPherson, Georgia, after a twenty-eight-year career of service. In September 1983, he and his wife returned to Fairview and occupied the house, which remains their residence to the present.

The historical significance of the Dr. Cicero McAfee McCracken House lies in its association with the life and medical career of Dr. McCracken (1868-1942), who practiced as a physician at Fairview from August 1896 until shortly before his death on 8 December 1942.

From the biographical account of his life published in October 1939 in the Bulletin of the Buncombe County Medical Society and the obituaries that appeared in the Asheville newspapers, it is evident that Dr. McCracken had a rural medical practice that was probably typical in most respects. With his office at Fairview, Dr. McCracken had a wide practice in the broad surrounding region stretching between Asheville and Rutherfordton and between Black Mountain and Henderson County.

His second wife, Johnie Ruth, was a trained nurse, and she assisted Dr. McCracken from the time of their marriage through the remainder of his career. Dr. McCracken prepared many of his medicines in his office and dispensed them to patients: this practice was a common one for rural physicians who were far removed from pharmacies in the state’s larger towns and cities. Consequently, his career cannot be lauded for notable achievements or discoveries in his profession, or for having been the attending physician to some notable personage.

Coming from relatively humble circumstances, he was born to neither privilege nor affluence nor family capital, which might have pointed his medical career in another direction. As a result, he was not one of many doctors in the towns and cities of North Carolina who, in the decades around the turn of the century, opened their own clinics or invested in hospitals.

Such men, including Dr. Richard Beverly Baker (1821-1906) of Hickory, are recalled by hospitals that bore their names before the advent of the corporate hospital industry. Instead, the significance of Dr. McCracken’s career exists as a representation of the lives and careers of a large number of rural doctors, known affectionately as the “Country Doctor.”

It was these men, located throughout rural North Carolina, who provided medical services to the largest part of the state’s population in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries and who held positions of public esteem and trust in a manner that is absent in late modern life. During the period in the 1920s when there was still but one doctor per 1,210 inhabitants—an improvement over the ratio around the turn of the century—these men were critical to the health of their community, especially in a time when many lives were lost to typhoid fever and tuberculosis.

The medical society sketch of his life, quoted earlier in this report, described the means by which Dr. McCracken gained his medical education and secured a license to practice. That process was probably more typical—and likewise representative of the era—than that of men who might have been fortunate enough to have undertaken a full course of formal medical schooling.

The establishment of medical schools in North Carolina came late in the nineteenth century. A medical school was established at the University of North Carolina in 1879; the North Carolina Medical College was established in Charlotte in 1887, and Cicero McCracken was a student at the school in 1894-1896 while it was located at Davidson. However, these schools struggled in their early years and did not have the prestige of educational programs offered by certain schools, including the University of Pennsylvania, the Jefferson Medical College, and New York University, to which most of the state’s more affluent and ambitious medical students turned in the nineteenth century.

The role of the medical preceptor was a distinguished one in this state’s medical history, and it was these men who served as medical educators before medical schools were formally established in North Carolina. Even with the establishment of the two schools in 1879 and 1887, that important tradition of medical education continued to the turn of the century and probably beyond in the western reaches of the state.

Reading and working under a preceptor, such as Dr. C. B. Roberts of Clyde, not only provided training and insight into the profession and practice, but it also provided experience, which enabled students such as Cicero McCracken to reap the maximum benefit of formal schooling when he entered the Department of Dentistry at Vanderbilt University in 1891 and the North Carolina Medical College in 1894.

Cicero McAfee McCracken graduated from the North Carolina Medical College in the spring of 1896, and in May of that year, he passed the examination held by the North Carolina Board of Medical Examiners and was licensed to practice medicine. The sketch of his life, published in 1939 near the end of his career, recounted the broad outline of his practice in a few simple sentences that probably could have been used to describe the lives of many rural doctors in western North Carolina:

‘In August 1896, he located at Fairview, North Carolina, where he had practiced medicine for forty-three years—sometimes with horse and saddle, sometimes with horse and buggy, and sometimes on foot when the road came to a dead end and horse and buggy could go no farther, and only a path penetrated into the cove or up the mountainside. But good roads into this mountain section in recent years have wrought great changes, and Dr. McCracken has long dispensed with horse and buggy and is privileged to make his calls in an automobile.

Dr. McCracken has had to be his own pharmacist—carrying his medicine with him and often preparing the mixtures necessary for his patients. The Fairview section in recent years has become a popular resort for tourists, and these people have recognized the ability of Dr. McCracken and have not failed to avail themselves of his services when needed. The role and status of the “Country Doctor” in western North Carolina were not restricted to the practice of medicine but included civic leadership.

In the nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries, the country doctor was turned to, time and again, for his opinions on a wide variety of issues, which in Dr. McCracken’s case included local education, good roads, and the advancement of his adopted community of Fairview. His service on the Fairview School Board (1913-1929) and on the Buncombe County Board of Health (1918-1924) reflects the two principal poles of his civic and professional interests.

According to family tradition, Dr. McCracken also assisted young men from the region, with loans or grants, to pursue medical studies. In the absence of a modern history of Buncombe County and a like history of medicine in the county, a final assessment of his career in the context of other doctors remains to be confirmed. That said, however, the best critique of his life’s work might well be the concluding paragraph of the 1939 biographical sketch, which reflects the judgment of his peers.

Dr. McCracken has lived a full and useful life. By his untiring efforts for community progress and his devoted service to humanity, he has endeared himself to all. He has been justly honored by his professional associates and by the community as a capable physician, loyal friend, and good citizen.’

Lura McCracken Marr Roberts sent that postcard to her father in 1937, five years before he died, undoubtedly finding Arizona a place of splendor. Revisiting the Grand Canyon State in 2010, she passed away there at the age of 94. Lura was buried in North Carolina.

The Cicero McAfe McCracken family all went on to be highly educated people and professionals in their various careers. Their old home remained in the family up until 2013, when Courtney Stephens purchased it.

Perhaps one item the National History Register did not focus on as much as it should was the McCracken’s devoted worship habits, which especially included prayer. Their success in life did not come from hard work alone.

McCracken family
Main house
Dr. McCracken’s office
Lura McCracken Marr Roberts (sent the postcard)