Prescience, She's Got It - Juanita Hughes

November 8 - Juanita Hughes Day in Woodstock

 An introduction - You haven't been in Woodstock long if you haven't heard of Juanita Hughes, latest recipient of the key to our city. She's a prescient lady where Woodstock is concerned. Early on, she realized the need to preserve our town story. For many years, she has been unraveling, recording and highlighting the earlier people and events of this place. Regularly, area schoolchildren learn of the former things from her, the changes in their environs and a way of life that has passed away. At Juanita's introduction, here in 1965, I think she must have foreseen hamlet-sized Woodstock transforming into the spread-out, bustling city it has become.

Preteen Juanita, looking to the future.

Developing her talents before marriage and motherhood. She later had several careers: bookkeeper to a medical practice, library employee, and docent at historic Dean's Store.

Saving History - When I think of an old photo I took in my childhood, I like to think I have a smidgen of Juanita's foresight to capture reality before it's lost. Living in west Miami of the 1950s, I used my Kodak Brownie camera to take a photo beyond my fence, across the canal, to the vast plant-and-tree shrouded land on the other side. That edge of the Everglades abounded with animals. We could hear the blubbery-sounding shwoosh of manatees exhaling as their nostrils rose from the canal water to take air; the cry of fox, raccoon and rare Florida panther; the calls of countless birds. Seminoles lived in their un-walled huts a few miles away. Then one morning, machinery scoured the landscape as the 1958 Palmetto Expressway came into being, obliterating the old view forever. I am thankful for that impromptu image on paper. 

High school graduation photo.

Her Backstory - Unknowingly, Juanita prepared herself for the role of town historian long before Woodstock gained regional importance. Although fun-loving and social, she has held to a work ethic inherited from her joyful mother and her more commanding grandmother. Her grandfather, a valued shipping clerk in Dalton's Crown Cotton Mills, was also a positive influence on Juanita's life. Earlier, after a divorce, her mother and three-year-old Juanita had come to live in his household where they remained for Juanita's growing-up years. The adults under that roof encouraged young Juanita to study, and they conversed freely with her about the topics of the day. 
         After her education at Dalton High School, Juanita continued to develop her vibrant mind by reading words that mattered. She mastered writing so well that The Cherokee Tribune has published her columns for decades. I once viewed a scrapbook that had belonged to her academic-minded father, a much older man that she hardly got to know. The collection contains fascinating notations, puzzles, cogent expressions, scientific drawings, newspaper articles and personal musings. This family relic reveals Juanita's strong genetic component for intellectual curiosity.

The future - Juanita, a young octogenarian, is in good health. Years of faith and humor and regular exercise are probably the reasons for her hardiness. Woodstock continues to be her passion. Thank goodness. She constantly gifts us by chronicling, compiling and preserving the tale of Woodstock. She will insist that the organization Preservation Woodstock, formerly The Centennial Commission, has been the overriding vehicle and that's true. But our archives are full because of her. We possess several Woodstock history books due to her urging and support. Landmarks have been historically interpreted and marked with signage. Intriguing questions about olden times in South Cherokee County have been answered. Serendipitous discoveries have been made. Most important, Woodstock citizens appreciate their locale more dearly. As though holding a treasured old photo, they can visualize layers of times past that are now gone forever.

May constantly changing Woodstock blossom ever more beautifully, just as Juanita does each year.

Patti Brady's new Woodstock novel, In the Land of Courage, will arrive in late 2019.

Extending Her Paintbrush, With a Nervous Gulp

Woodstock's New Mural

Imagine painting larger-than-life scenes, perched on a scaffold, at times nearly thirty feet above bone-breaking cement, and vehicles, below, zooming past. Imagine scrambling down that intricate, metal bracing when an unexpected lightning storm lashes the sky or when the heat is so intense you feel dizzy enough to careen right off your birds-eye-view platform. Imagine you've got little children longing for their mama to make it back home, again, to feed them dinner and play with them in the backyard.

Annalysa Kimball, our Woodstock mural artist must have dealt with such issues. She prevailed. We commend her steady reach and her bravery. Oh, I forgot to mention her greatest risk--she had to please 30,000 people with her creation. She succeeded wildly. An overabundance of creativity put her over the top. Preparation aided her. Annalysa spent countless hours drawing ideas from local citizens and getting to know the heartbeat of the city.

The artist skillfully pulled black-and-white images from Woodstock's past to mingle them with present-day scenes. One of my favorites is Lewis Carpenter whose knuckleball pitches for the Atlanta Crackers of the 1940s made his town proud. Another portrayal that makes me smile is the 1913 photo of Magnolia Thomas, beloved teacher for her community. The image has been tweaked to show her watchful eyes turned to supervise modern-day children at play. 

Representing Preservation Woodstock, I was one of a dozen committee members that evaluated applications and artwork to select the artist. I noticed three things that set her style apart: a strong ability to paint the animated human form (Woodstock is all about the people), a bit of humor sneaking into her compositions and, most importantly, life-affirming, vibrant joy. I am so happy with the outcome. Stop by the mural on the side of the pharmacy at Mill Street and Main. You'll absolutely love it, too!

At sidewalk level, townsfolk who had come to view progress, earlier, found themselves and their real dog in the painting.

Of course, everyone's favorite Woodstock history resource found herself captured, too. Annalysa spent many hours, consulting with Juanita Hughes.

The Dean Brothers in the 1910 photo of their soda fountain stare curiously at our current day selves. A modern woman reaches into the past to take a 'selfie'. At the bottom, there is some question as to who is in the mural and who is real.

Lots of Woodstock folk came out to celebrate their new mural.

Patti Brady is a member of Preservation Woodstock, and she is the author of the contemporary Woodstock novels: The Heart of a Child and The Power of Her Smile.

Enon Cemetery in Spring

You may hear whispers on the wind if you visit Woodstock's 1838 cemetery. You may feel the pull of time. After northwest Georgia opened for settlement, stouthearted people pioneered our locale. They met rugged challenges daily. Uniting in faith, 12 men and women established Enon Baptist Church in 1837. That same year, Andrew Jackson ended his term as president and 18 year-old Victoria became queen of England.

The little church group assembled on donated land, the upper section of the larger site. Today, most of what we know came to light through research done by local historian, Juanita Hughes. The information is compiled in her book, Set Apart--The Baptist Church At Woodstock. It can be assumed that the homesteader's initial meetinghouses were basic and crude, maybe constructed of logs. Later, when a newer structure replaced one of the earliest versions, the old building components sold for $47.23 and the seats for $47.10. How we wish church minutes specified more details! From the outset of the church, graves appeared in the churchyard. Three persons with birth dates that go back to the late 1700s are buried at Enon. Passing years have eroded many markers. The earliest, discernable burial date (1845) is for a 14-year-old boy. How did young George Hughes die? My wild imagination leads me to dreadful possibilities such as cowpox, scarlet fever or, perhaps, a terrible wound caused by the sharp horn of an ox that may have pulled the Hughes wagon many miles to their new home in northwest Georgia.

The settlement of Woodstock grew. In 1871, the multiplying congregation built a sturdy, white clapboard building at the Enon site. In 1879, the railroad came to town. The church building was relocated to an in-town spot and became First Baptist Woodstock. Back up the road, the burial ground expanded thanks to land gifts from Jacob Haney, a Methodist man. Hymns no longer floated above the graves, but those memorials retained an aura of anticipation of rising again.

Amanda Edwards with baby daughter and one of her sons.

Enon Cemetery contains tales of optimism and perseverance. Dr. W.H. Dean, born in 1824, graduated from the Medical College of Georgia at Augusta. He arrived in Cherokee County where he served as a Woodstock area doctor and, sometimes, as Enon's pastor. A  non-commissioned surgeon in the Civil War, he returned and gave thanks that his home remained intact. Amanda Edwards, known for her grit, rests at Enon. She lost her young husband to disease and then almost lost her little son who fell down a well, but her life did a turnaround. She married a well-respected man from Woodstock, John Edwards. John had lost his right arm in the battle for Atlanta but learned to write with his left hand to gain employment. He is beside Amanda at Enon. African-American Magnolia Thomas, a Spelman graduate, earned the admiration of everyone as she worked diligently to educate the black children in the community of the 1920s. The sun shines brightly on her grave. These are just a few of the interesting people buried at Enon.

In early spring, morning sun rays wash Enon hill with light and warmth. The air smells clean. Pine needles on loblollies glisten. Although cars travel Main Street, and the nearby manufacturing plant wakes, quiet reigns. That is, until robins and thrashers perch on monuments and let loose with songs of resurrection promise. Tiny purple blooms on wild violets verify winter is over. Moss has spread, making playful green rugs in the shaded sections. Balls of mistletoe sit in a few trees like celebratory ornaments. Airy cedars point to the sky. One spring, visitors noticed a young sassafras tree with early, mitten-shaped leaves emerging. Not far from a headstone, this fledgling hardwood seemed determined to soar in height one day, in glory. As so it is with all things at Enon Cemetery.

A view to the east, where the sun rises. The hill descends to the railroad track, North Main Street and the Health / Recreation Center.

Patti Brady is a member of Preservation Woodstock, Inc. and she is author of the contemporary Woodstock novels:  The Heart of a Child and The Power of Her Smile

Cracking Mysteries - Living and Writing in Woodstock, GA

I've noticed something about human nature. One aspect of our composition occasionally makes us wonder if everything is truly as it seems. That's how certain stories are able to tug at us and leave us eager for revelation. Sometimes the news is good. Sometimes the news is bad. In any case, mystery has power like creek mud, sucking on your waterproof boots until little water oddities swimming about captivate your thinking and you lose interest in traipsing off to dry ground.

A thrill tickles the mind when mysteries are solved, like the one cracked by our town historian. Juanita Hughes is an inquiring sort of woman, always scurrying here or there, pulled by some bit of history that intrigues her. She was designed for unraveling knots, making connections and drawing conclusions. Not so long ago, she did just that after poring over a historical document copied from a beloved, now deceased, Woodstock citizen's papers. Ms. Hughes was hooked by the description of a Civil War banner reportedly sewn by the women of Woodstock for the local military Company called Cherokee Dragoons. That word dragoons is derived from French and means heavily armed mounted troops. Despite what a few people may have imagined, today's Southerner considers the conflict to have been the South's folly. Regardless, we also believe the story  must be preserved. By the way, the report Ms. Hughes read was not signed, but she recognized the penmanship. W.H. Dean (1824-1912) physician and preacher, helped shape Woodstock, and she's read everything she can find that he wrote. When she encountered his handwriting again, the little document instantly earned some gravitas.

So where had the banner gone? Was it lost in battle where it rotted in some field? Had it burned in one of Woodstock's house fires of olden times? Might it be packed away in one of the attics of over a dozen architectural relics about town? Well . . . there were no thoughts of cie le vie in Ms. Hughes' mind. She wasn't about to let the puzzle go unsolved so easily, but all she had to go on were written details, the Company name and their motto--no picture shed light. Her determination and her awareness of the merits of internet research brought success! Who knew that the flag, donated by a descendant of the Dragoons, had been on display alongside artifacts of South and North, fifteen minutes away at Kennesaw Mountain Battlefield Park Museum. I wonder how many Woodstock natives visited the museum over the years, unaware they walked right by embroidery woven through silk by their great-great granny or long-ago aunt. 






The motto reads: "Either with it or upon it."

Now I have a little mystery for you. Many of Woodstock's increasing population are from somewhere else. It's time for them to be indoctrinated into one of the town's architectural secrets. Have a look at one of my favorite buildings below.

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Yes, you've seen that 1908 structure with ornamental brickwork decorating the roof line, situated at the corner of Main Street and Towne Lake Parkway, across from the town mural. Our historian says one of the town's last hitching posts, positioned on the long side of the building, escaped the scrap heap until modern times. Don't you just love the name Samson and Delilah Antiques? Well, let's go inside . . . .

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Wow. There's so much to see--those old gramophones, china of yesteryear, charming figurines, antique furniture, delicate linens and so on. The ceiling, it's so high. Everywhere I turn, there's something to snag my interest. Hours could be spent here. But wait. . . . Things may not be what they seem. I sense an air of mystery. What's that in the far left corner? Let's go look. . . .

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Interesting. I'm not referring to the hanging tree of hankies or the white fedora. Look instead at the elaborate metal molding of the outer door frame . . . and that strong hinge that must have held a weighty door, now gone. . . . I wonder what strangeness waits behind that inner portal. . . .



No, you haven't fallen into a Stephen King novel. . . . On the other side is a closet-size vault. Stacks of money once sat on the shelves. This turn-of-the-century building served as the town bank many decades ago, a monetary establishment  that held steady during the Depression. Now you know one of the hidden town secrets. . . . Sh-h-h-h-h. Don't tell. 

.Patti Brady is a member of Preservation Woodstock and author of the Woodstock novels.