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| Wild mountain laurel blooms. |
(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 “Beauty of Mountain Laurels” was
originally published in the March 25, 2004 edition of The Monroe Journal in
Monroeville, Ala.)
The Good Lord certainly knew what He was doing when He made
the wild mountain laurel.
Today, March 18, was a perfect day to journey into the high
hill country and view the wondrous beauty of the wild mountain laurel beginning
to bud.
Their primitive beauty had just begun to dot the red clay
hills of the Red Hills area. Here and there across the high ridges, the first
blooms of this primitive beauty had begun to burst forth, making way for all
that grew along the high ridges to follow later in all their beauty.
Many of the places where the mountain laurel had been so
beautiful in the spring of 1996 had been damaged quite some years ago when a
tornado swept across the Red Hills area. But, these beautiful and hardy hill
flowers will not be destroyed.
As one examines the damaged area, one will see that the
strong mountain laurel is slowly breaking through the red clay where once stood
a large and beautiful flower.
As I stood there and looked at the struggle for survival of
this beautiful flower, I was reminded of a beautiful country girl struggling to
help her family to survive there in the rough hill country, but yet retaining
the wondrous beauty of a red-headed mountain girl, standing there on the side
of a steep red clay hill.
I am aware of the many beautiful flowers that abound
throughout our area – the roses, azaleas, violets and many more. But, I have
never seen any flower that will compare with the glorious mountain laurel or
the most beautiful goldenrod that blooms during the fall months of the year.
I believe our Creator didn’t allow these two beautiful wildflowers
to blossom during the same time of year because both were so beautiful until He
chose to have each bloom at different times of the year. Both blooming at the
same time would be more beauty than so many of us country folks could take.
Parking my vehicle, I walked over and began to examine the
pinkish red and purple blooms of the mountain laurel in detail. It didn’t take
but a minute to see that these were created by the Master Painter himself. With
all of our know-how, we are yet unable to create anything so beautiful and
perfect as these blooms that were before me. I was re-affirmed once again, that
only He was capable of creating something so beautiful and so perfect.
What was so amazing was that those who were the most
beautiful and perfect were the ones that grew in the worst places there on the
hillside. A perfect and most beautiful mountain laurel grew majestically and
proud on the steep edge of one of the worst looking gullies to be found there
on the hillside. Standing there observing the glorious wild laurel, I
remembered the old saying “that beauty is to be found anywhere.” This I believe
with all my heart.
But, the wild mountain laurels were not the only beautiful
thing to be found there in the Red Hills country. Scattered around throughout
the area, the wild honeysuckles were struggling also to make their comeback
after the terrible tornado has seriously damaged the hill country.
There, among the underbrush that had survived the tornado
and the logging crews that had harvested the damaged timber, the wild honeysuckle
was also determined to survive there on the red clay hillside.
As I made my way across the red clay hills, I thought of the
early families who had lived at one time in the hill country. I thought of the
many stories told to me by my good friends who had families that had dug a
meager living out of the clay hilltops that surrounded the hill where I was
standing.
With plenty of time on my hands, I sought out several old
home places that wait almost unknown in their forgotten locations around on the
hills in the grown up areas.
I visited again the old community cemetery there in the high
country. This was the third visit to the old burial ground within the last few
weeks. Regardless of the times coming here, I always seek out the burials of
the old Confederate soldiers who sleep here. Those with such names as Wiggins,
Stabler, Tolbert and two or three more are buried here. These men chose to join
the cause of the South in the terrible Civil War and then return to their beloved
hill country and be buried here to wait for the final roll call.
As I finished my tour of the old cemetery and home places, I
returned to the area where the beautiful mountain laurels were beginning to
bloom. Pulling off the dirt road, I sat down to meditate a bit and enjoy my
surroundings. I had hardly gotten seated, when off to my right sounded the
gobble of a wild turkey.
Thrilled at the call of the wild turkey gobbler, I found
myself wishing that no hunters were in the area to cripple or kill this
wonderful creature. I got my wish, because the wild gobbler called out at least
six or seven times more.
The breathtaking beauty of the blooming mountain laurels and
the calls of the turkey gobbler were something almost beyond describing.
Sitting there, listening to the calls of the wild gobbler and enjoying the wondrous
beauty of the blooming mountain laurels, caused me to feel sorry for those who
were not a witness to what I was enjoying.
Looking across the red clay hills at the primitive beauty before
me, I knew once again that this I was witnessing wasn’t by accident. The hands
of my Creator had set the stage with the beauty and sounds around me. I was
glad that I had come.
As I headed my transportation back toward home, the words of
an ancient Indian prophet came to mind:
O’ Great Spirit, give me strength
That I may stroll across the land
And marvel at Thy Creation.
Let me go where the wild mountain laurels
Sway in the gentle breeze.
Let me smell the
Fragrance of the wild honeysuckles, as I rest
In the shade of the lofty cottonwood tree,
While listening to the lullaby of the winds.
(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, 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 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.)
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