Book Excerpt: ‘A Trip to the Country Store with Grandpa’

Posted by Dave Tabler | January 15, 2015

maryhyltonjohnsonPlease welcome guest author Mary Frances Hylton. Ms. Hylton descends from a long line of folks who came to this country in the 1600’s. She was born in Roanoke, VA and spent her summers in Copper Valley, Floyd County, VA. She attended Los Andes University in South America, and taught English as a Second Language for 17 years before returning to the US, where she earned her Bachelors Degree in Business and Spanish Education from Barry University. She is a retired Spanish Teacher and a member of Tampa Writers Alliance. Mary has been published in Florida Creative Living. She is a Florida broker/owner of Mary Johnson Real Estate in Lutz, FL. We’re pleased to offer you an excerpt from her newly published children’s book ‘A Trip to the Country Store with Grandpa.’


Every summer, I would visit Copper Valley, VA with my mom, and she would drop me off at my grandparents’ house. At the time, I had no idea where she would go; I was only six years old. It was just me and my grandparents. I really got to know them well and loved helping out around the farm.

Trip to the Country Store 1

It was quiet in the country, with lots of things to do: feed the horses, cows, and chickens, help with the gardening, gather the eggs, and bring buckets of water from the spring (as there wasn’t any running water to the house.)

There was no electricity either, just a glass oil lamp whose contents would wobble if the lamp were tilted and not carried straight. On many occasions, I was asked to bring it and was reminded to carry it properly.

Then Grandma would light it. The glass shade kept the fire inside, which gave off a bit of brightness in the dark kitchen. Bright enough that Grandma with her spectacles could read the Bible to us.

Then on Sundays the big thing to do was to dress up in our best clothes, (Grandpa and me) and head down the mountain side, across the creek on the foot log to “Uncle Leonard’s barn.” There we would sit on a chopped stump – well, Grandpa would – and I would just look for three leaf clovers and whatever else caught my eye. Grandpa wore a dark suit with a white long sleeve shirt. His hair was white as a ghost and his eyes the color of steel. When a car came around the curve, which wasn’t very often, Grandpa would raise his hand and wave at them. I too, would stop what I was doing, catching the excitement of Grandpa. I would wave, but – with a lot of eagerness!

What a game that was, and it was so much fun to see other folks, since we were so far out in the country. I would jump high in the air with my ponytail (which was down to my waist) flying in the wind, and waving both hands with lots of energy, as I kept jumping. Then, those passing by would smile and laugh and honk their horn. Grandpa always got tickled seeing how I could draw laughter, a honk and a wave.


—-A Trip to the Country Store with Grandpa

Grandpa Sledd was of German descent, slim built and not too tall, with a hump in the middle of his back. I suppose it appeared on his back after bending and stooping over for so many years. He worked his large 100 acre farm every day. It sat on half a mountain side; there were always apple trees in need of pruning, there was planting and hoeing and tending to the livestock. It was hard work even for a young whippersnapper — and Grandpa was in his 80’s.

Family portraits

Grandpa had stern blue eyes that seemed to cry out to those watching him work, that there would be no foolishness tolerated around him. He was all business.

He was quick tempered and slow to smile. Hard work was his only master, and that he did well. When he would take me to the country store to barter with Grandma’s butter, only then would he seem to be pleased to sit by the hot, black, potbelly stove and chat with the men about politics, and muse with them about what the country was coming to.

“Mary,” Grandpa said, “Come on here.” He was standing at the counter getting change.

I walked over to him.

“Would you like some soda pop?” He said.

“What’s that, Grandpa?” I replied.

“Here, I will buy you one and you will see what it’s like.”

Grandpa walked with me over to the long red box that stood in the corner. He put five cents into the slot and said, walking away, “There you go!”

I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I edged myself over to the huge square red box that read “Coca-Cola” on it, lifted the heavy top and looked in. A long rail held many bottles of brown stuff. What was I supposed to do now?

Evie Duncan, the owner of the store, seeing I was having trouble, called out to me “Mary, honey—just slide the Coke bottle around to the end of the rail and it will come out then. Wait, I’ll come over there and show you.” She walked over to me and said “Grab one of the bottles.”

Grandpa was off talking to the men again, paying me no attention.

I grabbed one of the bottles.

“Now hold on to it until it reaches the end,” she said kindly.

red box

It was cold and hard to hold onto, and it took a little while before I could manage to get it to the end of all the rails. With a lot of strength and anticipation of what it would taste like I managed to pull it straight up.

I stood looking at the bottle, not knowing how I was going to open it or what to do next. The men were talking.

Evie stood beside me. “Mary, see here?” as she pointed to the side of the red box.

“The bottle opener is on the side” said Evie. I looked at the opener and still didn’t know what to do with it. She was patient and showed me how to open the bottle with the strange looking ‘bottle opener.’

Pop, went the top! It spewed out, landing slap-dab on Evie.

“Ahhh, this is so good!” I exclaimed, when the sweet cold fizz entered my mouth and made its way down my throat. Evie laughed. That was my first taste of soda pop and it was exuberating.

I was hooked. I loved the sweet fizzing taste in my mouth. I then strutted over and joined the men. I had learned something new and I was just happy sitting there listening to the men laugh while I enjoyed my soda pop. Grandpa looked toward me, and seemed to be amused by my delight in such a simple treat.

“Ahhh”, I sighed again as the cool sweet Dr. Pepper washed down my throat. The men laughed.

I would sit and listen to Grandpa what seemed like hours, talking with the men about politics. I would break away only to go out the screened door to visit with our Shepherd dog, Fido, who was laying right beside the wagon hitched to our mighty horse, Star.

I talked to Star, petted Fido and threw some rocks into the creek behind the store while wondering what all the talk was about. Then I brought Fido into the store where we both sat down beside Grandpa.

Grandpa stopped talking to the men and looked down at me and Fido and said, “Fido, would you rather be dead or a darn Democratic?”

With that, Fido would turn over on his back and play dead. All the men laughed hysterically and I did too. I wondered how Grandpa got Fido to do that trick. I really wanted to know about the “Darn Democratic” thing but Grandpa didn’t explain.

After fixing the world and making Fido roll over, Grandpa would walk out and untie the horse from the hitching post. This time, I said “Grandpa, can I unhitch Star?” I was determined to be like Grandpa.


“No, Mary you just climb into the wagon, you hear!” His voice was stern. I had seen Grandpa untie the horse and I knew I could do it too. I was disappointed I couldn’t be more like Grandpa.

I had named the horse ‘Star’ because of the figure on its forehead. The wagon and wheels were made of wood and in the back we would carry the supplies that Grandma needed. Grandpa and I would sit on the long wooden seat up front. Grandpa sat to the right with reins in his hand, and I sat on the left. Fido wasn’t allowed in the wagon with the supplies, so he would follow us, as we took off down the road.

Grandpa wouldn’t say hardly a word on the way back, as he seemed to be in a trance, probably still mulling over in his head how the government should be run! Only when a car came along did he break his trance and wave slightly, and so did I – with a smile. Only the sound of Star’s metal horseshoes could be heard on the paved road—clink clank, clink clank—until we got to the grassy area at Uncle Leonard’s red barn.

We passed Uncle Leonard’s red barn, then down the river bank and slowly into the river. Star would balk a little at first, but with Grandpa’s strong firm hands on the reins and with the whip in his hand, Star would swim. Following the wagon, Fido would keep his head out of the water and swim too.

“Grandpa, aren’t we going to sink?” I shouted, scared out of my mind.

“No, Mary the wagon is made out of wood so it floats. We will be just fine.”

I didn’t think so, as the water crept inside the wooden slats in the bottom of the wagon touching my toes. We finally made it to the other side of the river, and only then did my heart stop beating so rapidly. I trusted Grandpa.

We moved out of the river and up the riverbank, and with the last yank of the reins and effort from Star, we were prancing along lickety split up the dirt pathway and around the mountain side.

It seemed like it would never end. Around and around we would go. I was sitting high up on the seat and on the outside – with a splendid view of the mountains! If only my nerves would have allowed me to focus on that view. But, no! I could see far down the mountainside, which sent goose bumps running up and down my spine. The dirt pathway was very narrow, and at times Star would come awful close to the edge.

Star’s snorting didn’t help relieve my nerves either, as she would sling her head back and forth, sending hot mucus everywhere. I leaned in toward Grandpa, toward the safe part of the mountain.

I yelled at Grandpa “Please, Grandpa, can I get out?” knowing that I was about to die.

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Shoot if you must this old gray head, but spare your country’s flag

Posted by Dave Tabler | January 14, 2015

Barbara Frietchie’s story has been immortalized in plays, poems, and local Frederick, MD lore. The story relates that a 96 year old widow draped the Union flag from her window as Confederate troops rode by. Stonewall Jackson saw the display and ordered his troops to shoot the flag. Frietchie is reported to have said, “Shoot if you must this old gray head, but spare your country’s flag.”

Barbara Fritchie (frontispiece from 'Life of Whittier's heroine, Barbara Fritchie')

Barbara Fritchie (frontispiece from ‘Life of Whittier’s heroine, Barbara Fritchie’)

Makes for great storytelling; the problem is, when you go back to primary sources, the details don’t quite add up to that exact story.

“Barbara Frietchie was loyal to her heart’s core,” Mrs. Shriver Tompkins confirms in a NY Times editorial dated October 25, 1899. “This I state from personal knowledge, though I believe she was the only member of her family who was.

“She was not bedridden at the time of the battles of Antietam and South Mountain, for I saw and conversed with her at that time. She had a small flag which she kept in her window during the memorable week of Gen. Robert E. Lee’s occupation of Frederick. Barbara Frietchie was not a myth, neither was her loyalty. I have always understood and believed absolutely that she waved her flag as Gen. Reno passed her house, he looking at her and exclaiming, ‘The Spirit of ’76!”

So we’ve got the elderly Frietchie at the window, waving the Union flag energetically at the troops below. Except that General Reno is not leading Confederate troops or shooting at her flag. And Tompkins makes no mention at all of Stonewall Jackson.

George O. Seilheimer, in an article titled The Historical Basis of Whittier’s “Barbara Frietchie,” goes further:

“That Barbara Frietchie lived is not denied. That she died at the advanced age of 96 years and is buried in the burial-ground of the German Reformed Church in Frederick is also true.

“There is only one account of Stonewall Jackson’s entry into Frederick, and that was written by a Union army surgeon who was in charge of the hospital there at the time. ‘Jackson I did not get a look at to recognize him,’ the doctor wrote on the 21st of September, ‘though I must lave seen him, as I witnessed the passage of all the troops through the town.’

“Not a word about Barbara Frietchie and this incident.

“Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, too, was in Frederick soon afterward, on his way to find his son, reported mortally wounded at Antietam. Such a story, had it been true, could scarcely have failed to reach his ears, and be would undoubtedly have told it in his delightful chapter of war reminiscences, ‘My Hunt for the Captain,’ had he heard it.

from 'Whittier and Whittier-Land.'

from ‘Whittier and Whittier-Land.’

“Barbara Frietchie had a flag, and it is now in the possession of Mrs. Handschue and her daughter, Mrs. Abbott, of Frederick. Mrs. Handschue was the niece and adopted daughter of Mrs. Frietchie, and the flag came to her as part of her inheritance, a cup out of which General Washington drank tea when he spent a night in Frederick in 1791 being among the Frietchie heirlooms.

“This flag which Mrs. Handschue and her daughter so religiously preserve is torn, but the banner was not rent with seam and gash from a rifle-blast; it is torn—only this and nothing more.

“That Mrs. Frietchie did not wave the flag at Jackson’s men Mrs. Handschue positively affirms. The flag-waving act was done, however, by Mrs. Mary S. Quantrell, another Frederick woman; but Jackson took no notice of it, and as Mrs. Quantrell was not fortunate enough to find a poet to celebrate her deed she never became famous.

“Colonel Henry Kyd Douglas, who was with General Jackson every minute of his stay in Frederick, declares in an article in “The Century ” for June, 1886, that Jackson never saw Barbara Frietchie, and that Barbara never saw Jackson. This story is borne out by Mrs. Frietchie’s relatives.

“Barbara Frietchie had a flag and she waved it, not on the 6th to Jackson’s men, but on the 12th to Burnside’s.

“The manner in which the Frietchie legend originated was very simple. A Frederick lady visited Washington some time after the invasion and spoke of the open sympathy and valor of Barbara Frietchie. The story was told again and again, and it was never lost in the telling.”


sources: The Historical Basis of Whittier’s ‘Barbara Frietchie,’ by George O. Seilheimer, “Battles and leaders of the Civil War, Vol 2,” edited by Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buel, The Century Co, NY, 1884

Life of Whittier’s heroine, Barbara Fritchie, by Henry M. Nixdorff, W. T. Delaplaine & Co., Frederick, MD, 1887

Whittier and Whittier-Land, eds. Donald C. Freeman, John B. Pickard, Roland H. Woodwell, Eagle Tribune Printing, North Andover, MA, 1976. Courtesy of the Trustees of the Whittier Homestead, Haverhill, MA.

NY Times editorial dated October 25, 1899, online at

3 Responses

  • Crow Jane says:

    Great article. Makes me a little sad though. Whittier’s poem was one of my favorites when I was a little girl.

  • Sports Mad says:

    I know this might sound funny coming from Australia. However, I’m just addicted to reading about American History I find it fascinating. Thanks for the insights into the flag waving episode and trying to set the history straight. Cheers

  • Nick says:

    I pass by Frederick all the time on I-70 on my way too and from Pittsburgh to Washington. I had no idea there was such a rich history in the town. I guess I need to stop sometime and explore more.

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The Lincoln Memorial, the NY Stock Exchange, and Tate, GA

Posted by Dave Tabler | January 13, 2015

Small marble quarries had been active in north Georgia since the discovery in the 1830’s of the rare, bright pink marble that the area is famous for. But under the 3-generation dynasty of the Tate family, the Georgia Marble Company, begun in 1884, rose to monopoly status.

Georgia Marble Company stone can be found in monuments and public buildings around the world, including New York’s Stock Exchange annex, the Cleveland Federal Reserve Bank, the Lincoln Memorial and the twenty-four columns of the east front of the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C.

Sam Tate (1860-1938), the son of Stephen C. Tate and grandson of founder Samuel Tate took the firm to prominence in Georgia’s marble history. Previously involved in the company’s store operation, Sam Tate became president and general manager of Georgia Marble Company in 1905 (at the urging of his predecessor Henry C. Clement). With the help of family and friends, he acquired 6,791 shares of the stock. He immediately added equipment, changed procedures, cleared quarries, built additional houses for the workers, and hired many more employees to complete “finished” marble products in the mill.

Georgia Marble CompanyColonel Samuel Tate (2nd figure from right) inspects work on a marble bench, Tate, Pickens County, Georgia, ca. 1930-1933.

Tate’s business acumen became apparent when the company’s net gain doubled during the following year, and under his leadership, the company entered a new period of rapid growth and expansion.

In 1909 the twenty-five-year lease on the quarries expired and was renegotiated with the Tate family. The resulting transaction made the Georgia Marble Company joint owners of certain marble properties with the Stephen C. Tate Estate, an arrangement that continues to this day.

Georgia Marble Company soon acquired nearly all of the marble quarries and finishing plants of other firms in north Georgia. By 1917, the Georgia Marble Company had taken over the Blue Ridge Marble Company, Southern Marble Company, Amicalola Marble Company, and Kennesaw Marble Company. This left Georgia Marble Finishing Works in Canton as the only remaining independent finishing operation, until it too was purchased by Georgia Marble Company in 1941.

As a result of this consolidation, Georgia Marble Company eventually became the sole producer/manufacturer of Georgia marble. By 1924 the state geologist of Georgia reported that $1,867,000 worth of Georgia marble had been quarried in Pickens County. The company purchased marble interests in other states during the 1920s, thus extending its operations beyond Georgia. The value of the Georgia Marble Company at its peak was reported to be more than $3.7 million.

Sam Tate’s influence extended far beyond the actual marble operations of the company. In the town of Tate, for example, “Colonel Sam” built schools (for white and black students), contributed to churches, and hosted many cultural and educational activities. He paid for roads, installed electrical service, and built a hospital for the town. On the other hand, his benevolent paternalism sometimes turned authoritarian: he demanded that his employees abstain from alcohol, tobacco, fighting, and gambling.

Like other businesses and the public in general, the Georgia Marble Company suffered the destructive effects of the Great Depression that followed the stock market crash of 1929. The company’s success continued through 1932. In 1933 losses were reported to be $225,000, and an attempt to sell the company for $3 million failed. Despite the difficulties, Sam Tate perservered in keeping the company operating, and struggled to retain work opportunities for his many employees. He fell ill in 1936 and became chairman of the company’s board, while his brother-in-law I. P. Morton became president. By the time Colonel Sam Tate died in 1938, the company was struggling for solvency again.


One Response

  • Arline McCray says:

    My family are in both Tate, GA & Canton, GA; of these I have some sibilins that was born around 1884,1877,1880,1850 1860,1869
    1872,1902,1900,1909,1910, and 1920:

    Oscar Tate
    Residence:Canton town,Cherokee,Georgia
    Birthdate:March 1897
    Relationship to head of household:Grandson
    Father’s Birthplace:Georgia
    Mother’s Birthplace:Georgia
    Head of Household name:Henry Tate
    Enumeration district:0008
    Sheet number and Letter:13B
    Household id:243
    Reference number:82
    GSU Number:1240187
    Militidia District No:792
    Pool.Peu Grandson 1898
    Oscar Tate Grandson 1897
    Henry Tate Aug:1899

    Barbara A.Tate is the sister of Oscar Tate, but I can’t seem to find out
    any info on her and would love to hear from anyone who might be able to help! They are African Americans. Thanks.

    Here is some more info on my sibilins:

    In the 1870 Census of 5th District,
    Chatham County, Georgia nearest
    Post Office:Savannah

    Henry Tate is 26 a (Farm Laborer and born in GA.
    His wife Sallie 25 born in GA.
    Childrens:Charles Tate age 7 born in GA.
    Mary Tate age 4 born in GA.
    Augustus Tate age 2 born in GA.
    Harvie Tate.Harrie Tate,Oscar Tate.Barbara Tate
    so Oscar and Barbara are the oldest adults

    See when Barbara got older she married again
    to a guy name( Albert Johnson) and he
    is the father of (Estella Johnson),she was
    born Nov.19,1909 in Canton,Georgia,and she
    married her 6th Cousin/husband
    and his name was
    (Otha Johnson) he was born Oct.3,1898
    and died June 1979.

    Then she went with another guy name
    (Ned Johnson) which he is the
    father of( Flora Johnson) my Grandmother
    she was born May 10,1900 in Canton,Georgia
    so both of the sisters have 2 different dads,
    she got married Oct 19th,1928 in Detroit
    Michigan to (Horace McCray)which he was born
    December 25,1874,she is the 3rd
    wife and the second wife is Addie Evans
    and they got married May 29th,1925 in
    Detroit,Michigan as well

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The Maupins, the Walkers, and Tennessee Lead

Posted by Dave Tabler | January 12, 2015

The ‘Walker’ is today the most popular of the American Foxhound dog breed. This breed can be traced to Madison County, KY and a stolen hound called Tennessee Lead. According to legend, drover Tom Harris stole the hound out of a deer chase in Tennessee a few miles south of Albany, Kentucky in November 1852. Harris carried this rat-tailed, tight-haired black and tan hound on his buckboard to Madison County, and sold him to George Washington Maupin.

“I am sure Tennessee Lead was taken from Overton County, Tennessee, and that his first owner was either John or Mark Jolly or Andrew Kraft,” maintains Bob Lee Maddux in Old Time Walker Hounds, from The Hunter’s Horn, December 1974 issue. “They were deer hunters who lived among the mountains near where the Kentucky Rock Island Road broke out of the Cumberland Mountains to enter Obey’s River valley.”

Tennesse Lead hound, George Washington Maupin, William J WalkerGeorge Washington Maupin (Left), Tennessee Lead and William J. Walker (Right)

The origin and breeding of this hound is unknown. Lead didn’t look like the Virginia strain of English Foxhounds of that day. But he had an exceptional amount of game sense, plenty of drive and speed and a clear, short mouth. Most importantly, because of his speed and ability to run a red fox, he was used extensively at stud and was a major contributor to the development of the foxhounds as a whole.

The first hound bred to Tennessee Lead was a female called Red May, jointly owned by Thomas Howard Maupin (brother of George Washington Maupin), Speedwell Road and Alfred Johnson. This mating took place on November 20, 1852 the same day that George Washington Maupin obtained Lead from Tom Harris, and produced the hound White Mag, who was later sold to George Washington Maupin.

Tennessee Lead’s get were in turn crossed on imported hounds from England, native Kentucky hounds, Maryland hounds and Birdsong hounds from Georgia. Out of these crosses came the Walker and two other major strains: ‘Trigg’ and ‘Goodman.’

Bob Lee Maddux picks up the story once more: “Five years after Tennessee Lead was secured by the Maupins a rich banker and land owner of Madison County, KY, whose name was Jason Walker, imported three English hounds, two dogs and one bitch in whelp.

“From this English mating on the Native-Tennessee Lead bitches the Maupins produced a distinctive hound by 1868. For that year Wash Maupin died, leaving two sons to carry on, but their very serious fault was that they kept no records of any sort what-so-ever.

“The hound, Spotted Top bred by Wash Maupin’s sister’s son, Neil Gooch, was the first hound to have his breeding recorded for information of future generations. That hound was bred in 1864, but had no English cross. He was the offspring of Tennessee Lead stock on Native hounds.

“From about 1870 we are indebted, solely, to the Walker Brothers of Garrard County for the preservation of this breed. They bought from Wash Maupin, the year before he died, Spotted Top.

“Then they bought Scott and White Trav, littermates, from Joe Maupin, and from the other hounds they had previously purchased they preserved the blood in its proper ratio of 6-3-1 until about 1900, when the Striver cross enters.

“We are indebted to W. S. Walker, Arch Walker and Wade Walker for dispersing the blood to Missouri, Texas, Tennessee, and throughout the South. For Ed Walker, while the best hunter of the four, would not sell a hound. He bought every good one that he ever knew about, but kept them for his own hunting pleasure, and allowed them to be scattered only through his stud dogs.

“He never did like the Striver cross. One morning he and Tom Steagall of Crab Orchard were hunting on the Henry Baker Ridge. The hounds were working hard to lift their fox. One, a young bitch by Big Strive, was switching around too near the casting place to suit Mr. Walker, so Tom, out of his Irish devilment, asked Mr. Ed how he liked the new English cross. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘one eighth of it does fairly well, but one sixteenth is much better.’”



3 Responses

  • Brad McCormick says:

    No doubt lead had a lot to do with the Walker hound being the best and toughest fox or coonhound on earth.

  • Judith Reilly says:

    Thank you for sharing this! My husband and I just adopted our first (apparent) Walker hound. We adopted her in Massachusetts but she comes from Georgia. We are enjoying not only her, but learning about this part of American hound history.

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Washing clothes the modern way

Posted by Dave Tabler | January 9, 2015

This photo, from the ‘Museum of Found Photographs’ on, measures 8 x 10 inches, photographer and exact location unknown. It was found in southern Ohio. Everyone in this image appears to be very pleased with the family’s new washing machine save the young daughter on the right who seems indifferent. Note the son is smoking a pipe just like his father. ‘1911’ appears on the roof of the building structure in the background, which gives us an approximate age of this photograph.

Southern Ohio family in front of new washing machine, 1911 Compare the closeup of this B&W photo (below left) with the studio shot of the ‘1900’ brand washer, ca. 1907 (below right). If you rotate the studio photo 180 degrees so that the ‘1900’ logo faces away from you, the gear mechanism and the clamp key circled in the closeup suggest that our Ohio family are the proud owners of this washing machine brand.

“It is believed that the 1900 company was the first to mass produce and market the electric washing machine,” says Dr. Lee Reynolds, author of Save Womens Lives—History of Washing Machines. He cites an article by a B. D. Flower in the December 1907 issue of The Arena, No. 217, page 593, whose accompanying photo shows a lady reading a newspaper while her washing is done by an electric powered washing machine manufactured by the Nineteen Hundred Company, proving that the electric washer was being manufactured by at least that date.

The Nineteen Hundred Company was the ancestor of the company we know today as Whirlpool. The Binghamton, NY company merged in 1929 with the Upton Machine Company of St. Joseph, MI, which had been making washers for Sears Roebuck & Co. since 1916. In 1948 the company, still called The Nineteen Hundred Company, began marketing Whirlpool brand washers. The manufacturer added automatic dryers to its product line in 1950 and changed its name to Whirlpool Corporation.

“It is estimated that there were over 1,000 companies producing washing machines during the early 1900s,” says Reynolds, who holds the Guinness World Record for his collection of antique washing machines, numbering 1,060.

“Most of these companies were very small but almost all would have had the wherewithal to manufacture at least one electric washer. By 1900 small electric motors were sold with the intention that householders would connect them to hand cranked washing machines.”

Save Womens Lives—History of Washing Machines, by Lee Reynolds, Oldewash Publishing, Eaton, CO, 2003

Ohio appalachia appalachia+history appalachian+history washing+machines

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