George Singleton talks of ancient Indian village site where Flat Creek flows into the Alabama River

(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 “Signs of Indian village still cling to river bank” was originally published in the Oct. 12, 1972 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

Let’s go back in time a couple of hundred years to the place where Flat Creek joins the mighty Alabama River. Let’s imagine that we are approaching the high banks in a canoe from up river. As we drift toward the landing, the Indian village nestled on the east bank comes alive with activity.

Children are running back and forth along the water’s edge. Dogs are barking and chasing along with the children. The smoke from the cook fires spiral in a lazy corkscrew fashion into the clear morning sky.

The smell of fresh cooked venison fills the air. The village leaders wait with arms folded on the high banks as the bow of the canoe touches land.

As we climb through the soft sand and up the sloping bank, we come face to face with the village chief. The tall, graceful warrior gives the sign of peace. So we raise our right hands with the forearm paralleling the shoulder and return the peace sign. All are welcomed.

In the hours that follow, much will be done and said in the village by the river. We will have walked in leisure around the area. As we walk, we see the small patches of corn that have turned brown and await harvest.

We see the large pumpkins, yellow as gold, basking in the autumn sun. We see the crude fish nets hanging here and there drying in the blowing breeze. We see the large earthen vessels overflowing with food, as the natives wait for the feast to come.

We hurry to the large open space in the center of the village, as a tall, slender warrior sounds a long wailing blast from a large sea shell, signaling the beginning of the harvest festival. We hurry. The dances are about to begin.

The festival has started. The food is being served. We eat from a small earthen bowl. We eat with our hands.

As we eat, we wonder why the men of the village wipe their hands on the muscles of their arms, after they finish eating. We are later told that this is done to protect the skin from the sun and wind.

After several bowls of the delicious meat and vegetable stew, and several pieces of baked pumpkin, we begin to look for a quiet place to rest in the warm evening sun. The day has been long. Fatigue grips our bodies.

We find the ideal spot in the warm, dry sand under a weeping willow tree. We lie back on the sand. The sounds of dancing begins to fade in the distance. Sleep begins to come.

A sudden jolt that sounds like a clap of thunder jars us awake. We jump up and as we scramble to our feet, we become entangled. We free ourselves.

Where did those leather straps come from? Where is the village? Where is the food, the people? We slowly stand and then remember.

We came to the mouth of Flat Creek to do a story and to take pictures. We rested in the sand and dozed off. We were awakened by a jet, flying at treetop level. We became entangled in our camera straps.

As we climb the sloping bank, the bright gleaming things we see are the fenders of our trail bikes. We look around. The only sound is the sighing wind blowing through the willows. The river is like glass. Time sure flies.

[This column also featured a photo taken by Singleton that bore the following caption: Still waters at the mouth of Flat Creek seem to echo the primitive history of an Indian village once located in the area.]

(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 aand as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)