Dante, VA

Breaks and Rusty Fork to Dante and Norton - June 26

In the summers in the 1930's my Dad and his sister, my Aunt Liz, would travel down to Dante Virginia with their mother Martha Hopkinson Tyler to visit Grandpa and Grandma Tyler.  Down there, Grandpa Tyler was known as "WD" - for William Dowlin Tyler.  He had come from Pennsylvania, where the Dowlins had been in the Downingtown area of Pennsylvania in a hamlet known as Dowlin Forge for generations.  WD was an executive with the Clinchfield Coal Company, who had sent him to Dante in 1906 to secure mineral rights for the company.  From Chief Land Agent he rose to become a Vice President of the company and spent the better part of 40 years there, engaging in the town's development as well as the growth of the mining operation there.

Dante as it looked in 1940, showing the grand hotel, theater (in white). The scale model is on permanent display in the museum.

On a map looking at southwest Virginia and eastern Kentucky, the topography resembles a flat but wrinkled skin.  Closer in, the "skin" is about 2500' above sea level, with river gorges and creek valleys ("the wrinkles") 1500 feet below the peaks, forming a vast network of waterways.  The bending crevices are paved with small roads and rail lines, and hold hidden towns such as Dante (pronounced "ant" with a D on the front).  The crevices are known as "hollers" - hollows in the mountains.  Dante was originally known as the town of Turkey Foot, which described the shape of the landscape with its many hollows, such as Straight Hollow, Hospital Hollow, Lower Bearwallow Hollow, and naturally, Upper Bearwallow Hollow. One other street is named Bunchtown Road.  The hotel, theater, and hospital are gone now, but the houses are still there, both of the coal workers who moved to the town, and the executives for the Clinchfield Coal company that once employed thousands across 10 towns in the Clinch river valleys of southwest Virginia.  The coalworkers lived along the hollows; the executives on the top of Roanoke hill, known colloquially as "snob nob".  At present, the town is still home to a post office and school, and the old bank has been converted to a local history museum by the hard work of local citizens.

Topography of 'Turkey Foot' 

I arrived at 4:00 on June 26, a Wednesday, the one day of the week that the museum is closed.  Knowing this in advance, I was hoping to find someone around town who could meet me.  I parked in front of the museum and walked down to the post office where the postmaster Vickie was taking down the American flag before closing up for the day.  I introduced myself and told her why I was there. She didn't know anything about the Tyler family but she was fairly new to town.  She did have the phone numbers of the three folks in town who had keys to the museum, and proceeded to call all of them, leaving messages.  An older woman came in for her mail and said she thought the three had gone down to the hospital in St Paul, because one of their family had broken a hip the night before.  I went back to Jewel Song and sat in the open hatch eating sunflower seeds; a pop up storm was passing through.  Having driven an hour over the mountains to get here, I figured to just wait until someone came by.

The old bank building, now a museum

The plaza where the old theater had stood was now just a cement pavement with a couple of picnic tables, and a recently built roofed wood stage faced south, topped with an old railroad sign for Dante.  A girl in a motorized wheelchair and her friend sat at the picnic table, seemingly waiting for someone.  CSX transportation had equipment on the rail line and men in orange vests were busy attending to it.  People drove by in cars and pickup trucks and looked at me as they passed.  Some of the cars were quite new - a Prius was among them.

Downtown Dante today, missing it's hotel, theater, and Hospital

About 20 minutes later,  an older woman in white hair stopped in her sedan and pulled into the spot next to mine on the lawn in front of the museum. Her name was Bobbi, and it was her sister who had landed at the hospital with the broken hip.  Bobbi hadn't slept much as she'd spent the better part of the last 24 hours at the hospital, but the voicemail from Vickie about my visit spurred her to come see.  I apologized for creating a stir and keeping her from a nap, but she demurred.

Bobbie and me

We talked about my great grandfather and she pointed me towards a thick book that had been written in 2004 on the history of the town which included several passages about my grandfather's involvement in the town. It also included many photographs from the "Tyler collection," which we concluded must have been the photographs my Aunt had dropped off there in 2000 as a donation.  Somehow they had never gotten or lost her name, because in the forward to the book, the author bemoans not having the opportunity to thank the donor personally for what turned out to be a significant contribution to the overal oral history project and the town's rememberance of its past.  When we spoke about my GGF Tyler's residence, she pointed me to a hand-drawn map in the book showing the houses of Roanoke Hill and their residents at the time of the company town's peak.

Dante museum display

Bobbi and the others involved in the museum are classic civic boosters, so I was advised on current states of things in the continuing survival of the town, and also she made sure I saw the museum gift case with t-shirts and christmas ornaments decorated with drawings of the featured buildings in the town's past.  Of course, I bought the book, and a couple of t-shirts and ornaments for gifts.

Map in hand, I began to walk to Roanoke Hill Road. The sun had returned and it was a pleasant day.  Not many people were about.  The walk to the top of the road by the old pedestrain walkway was completely overgrown, so I took the road which looped around a few times, a good bit of exercise.  At the top, I found a bug-screen-enclosed pool with three kids splashing about, all around 9 years old.  The Two boys were boistrous and jocular; the girl sharp and wiley, all curious about this friendly stranger with a camera.

Roanoke Hill kids

I talked with them for a few minutes then continued walking, trying to orient myself to the map.  A house on the corner seemed like it might be the place, but the number didn't match up.  I kept going up the hill and passed a house with loud dogs chasing my presence.  Three teenagers came to the door to see what the dogs were barking for and I turned around and said hello.  One had the phone in her hand, but when I waved, they came out - two girls and a guy.  I mentioned I was looking for #762 and they looked a bit quizzical. I showed them the map, but it confused them also.  After a group powow we decided I must have gone too far and should return to the corner.  We joked about the weather finally turning nice, and I moved on.  I found myself wondering if the girl with the phone to her ear had called a parent when the dogs started barking and kept that person on the phone while we talked.

Robert and daughter Haley, future gymnast

Back at the corner, I encountered a Robert Fraser, watching his pixie daughter playing in the street with the other kids, older than her.  I introduced myself and my project.  We looked together at the map, a picture from the book I had saved on my iPhone, and came to the conclusion that it was the house we were standing before. Just then the house's occupant came out.

Chris grew up in the house and still lives here with his father, who was out.  He didn't know who had been there before them, and felt a bit sheepish about the shape of it now.  Work is hard to come by in this part of the world, so money to fix a house's back wall or put on a new roof isn't available.  Still, he was interested in the story so offered to tidy up inside a little and let me take a few pictures.

Grandpa Tyler's old residence.

Robert lives up the street next door to his parents, having moved back after his daughter was born.  He's a senior engineer at a local energy company and commutes an hour to work - but would rather live where kids can run around and play and going an hour actually gets you somewhere, unlike his experience with city living.

Chris Sutherlin and Robert Fraser on the porch at 762.

We chatted for quite a while on topics of family, community, and the Obama administration's energy policy, which is not popular here.  Coal mining is still the main job source, and there are no alternatives for many of the people as the country moves away from this fuel.

Robert's father Robbie came over after a while, but his recollections of old neighbors didn't reach back to my great grandfather's time.  At the end of the long day, I got motel suggestions from Robbie and left them all hanging out on the porch in the fading light.

Robert and father Robbie Fraser on Roanoke Hill.

Chris chillaxin' on the porch.

Grateful hat return

At the bottom I found my Dad's fishing hat tucked into the mirror on the car, I'd left it in the museum during my visit.  A great day all around.