Singleton tells of ancient Indian village site in Monroe County, Ala.

George Buster Singleton

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Turn back the clock and watch for tribes of the past,” was originally published in the March 5, 1992 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

In a north by northeast direction from the city of Monroeville, many strange sights might be seen. Along the edge of the steep hills, just before the land drops off into the bottoms near Flat Creek, time has almost stood still for nearly a thousand years.

What could be going on in an area so near to a much-traveled highway and a not-too-far-away railroad? If one could turn back the clock for a few hundred years and be able to observe the happenings and witness the activity along this large creek, one would find that quite a large civilization rested on the slopes of the high hills in this area.

Let us travel back in time and find a hidden spot where no one will see us. Let us be able to witness and listen as the women-folk and children of the early tribe go about their farming chores along the bottom of the ridges near the large creek.

As the early hours of a spring morning slowly creep from the high hills, see them walking down the hills to where the crops of squash and corn will be planted in the rich soil.

They will not carry modern farming tools as we have today. Their tools for digging are sharp points fashioned from pieces of flint that came from the rich flint deposits not too far to the southeast, near what is now the ridge.

These pieces of had flint are tied securely with a piece of rawhide to a stout stick, about three feet in length. Ties were made with green rawhide, before it had time to dry. As the rawhide dried, it became almost as if the piece of flint and the stick were one and the same.

Then, there was the first ax, which had no handle. The first ax was a large piece of sharp flint about the size of a large cooking spoon. They were mostly used to dig around the growing plants to keep the soil loose and to chop the weeds and grass away.

As the corn or squash seeds were dropped in the freshly dug hole, a small fish, or a piece of a larger fish, was put in the hole as fertilizer. The nearby large creek supplied the necessary fish for the spring planting, not to mention the fish that were consumed by the tribe as part of their daily diet.

A few days back, I journeyed into this area and marveled at the evidence that after several hundred years still could be found. In looking at one rather steep hill, it appeared as if the dirt had been carried from somewhere else to form this high point.

Here was where the chief or the ruler of the tribe lived. At about this time in early history, the chiefs would place their lodgings above the rest of the villagers, nearer to the heavens.

As I tried to picture in my mind just where I would have put a fire pit had I been there during this time, I was able to find two old locations that had survived hundreds of years.

I carefully brushed the pine needles and rotted leaves from the blackened stones that had surrounded the fire pit, and I wondered how many had rested around these fires and listened to the tales that abounded there.

I could imagine a tall, strong man standing there where I sat, telling of a bear hunt that had taken place along the large creek to the south. I could imagine the women and children as they sat spellbound and listened to the hair-raising experiences of hunting the bear or panther. I could almost smell the meat hanging from the cooking prongs over the fires.

I could see the members of the tribe slowly moving away from the large fires and seeking the comfort and warmth of the bear and deer skin wraps that would protect them from the chilly winds of the night.

In my mind I could see the crude thatched huts that were made of sticks and brush and sealed with the sticky mud that had been brought from the nearby creek. I would think that life had been quite pleasant for these early people along the slopes, here near the large creek.

As I made my way around the area, I knew that sooner or later I would probably come across that evidence that would give witness to the sadness and heartbreak of the early inhabitants of the village. As I followed the base of the steep slope, I found what I expected I would. There, under the dense undergrowth and fallen leaves, were about 30 piles of small stones ranging in size from an egg to some almost the size of a large hat.

Some of the mounds of stone were larger than the others. I remembered that perhaps those who were buried under the large mounds were older members of the village, or someone of greater importance in the village society.

As was the custom, after a member had died and been put to rest, a few stones were placed on the grave. Then each time someone who knew the deceased passed the grave, they would place a stone on it as a tribute in remembrance to the one who slept there. This would go on for several years until all the family members and friends of the deceased had either died or moved away.

As I sat there in the quietness of the afternoon, I wondered how long it would before this too would be destroyed as man pillaged for wealth and profit.

I wondered too if sometimes maybe during the nights of the full moon, the ghosts of this earlier time might gather again around the evening fires for a night of story telling and togetherness. They would gather before it was time to return again to that place that only they can know and are free to enter.

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, was bitten at least twice by venomous snakes, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)