Over New Year’s weekend, I discovered that my lady friend who was in for the holiday was not quite as excited as I was about watching three college football playoff games back-to-back-to back on New Year’s Day. While an enthusiastic and knowledgeable sports fan, this apparently was sensory overload for her. So, midway through the Rose Bowl game, the “Granddaddy of them all” for gosh sakes (although over by half time this year), she asked if I minded if she went through several boxes of old photographs and news clippings she had found in my attic and brought into my den. I said, “have at it” and “don’t get between me and the screen.”
I had never gone through some of these heirlooms myself, having moved them straight from my grandmother and aunt’s house on Junkin Street in Christiansburg (where my mom and dad had lived with them during the post WW II housing shortage) to my home in Clarksburg. My friend Joanne found many treasures in killing her time immersed in Weaver and King family detritus, one item of which is the subject of this column.
Among the old and yellowing photos and clippings was the January 22, 1953 edition of the Montgomery News Messenger, published the day after my arrival into the world. I do not recall having seen it before, but obviously it had been saved for posterity. So, I thought it might be fun to write about the news in town that week (as I recall, the Messenger published once a week back then, on Thursdays).
This particular edition was published two days after the inauguration of President Eisenhower and one of the front-page stories, above the fold, was surely a great source of local pride. The article reported that “Virginia Polytechnic Institute’s” marching band, the “Highty-Tighties,” had won first place among “all adult bands” in the Inaugural Parade. (This was a frequent occurrence at Presidential Inaugurations during my childhood). The article said that the Highty-Tighties were directed by Thomas Dobyns of Radford and that “the little group of Pershing Rifles [marched] perfectly behind them” (presumably the rifles were actually carried by members of the Corp of Cadets and didn’t march on their own – I remember seeing this drill squad many times as a kid). It was also reported in the article that “[m]any persons from this county stole time off Tuesday to watch…”
Another major headline directly beneath the masthead related to the “[t]otal value of Christiansburg’s building for 1952” – “released that morning at the Municipal Building”. It was the staggering sum of $268,650! The article did not say how Wall Street reacted.
Of perhaps more interest were front page articles about a flu epidemic that had closed the schools the week before, the approval by the County Board of Supervisors of “a decent war memorial” for the town square in Christiansburg (it was not reported what was indecent about the existing memorial), and “Three Big Name Bands” were announced as playing at upcoming dances at VPI – the bands of Tex Beneke, Ralph Martieri and Johnny Long.
Another “above the fold headline” reported startling news on the local weather – “Should Be Cloudy During Weekend, Says Forecaster.” The article did not name the Nostradamus who predicted cloudy weather in Montgomery County in January; however, the article itself was written with a sense of style and elegance lacking in most journalism of today. For example, in writing about the unpredictability of the weather in southwest Virginia:
“Rightly taken, these alterations of nature are reckoned as the good gifts of God. The great pattern of life is not monotonous. We are constantly stimulated by these changes.”
A couple of other front-page stories featured Christiansburgers near and dear to the hearts of many of my contemporaries and to me. Local lawyer Bentley Hite was recommended for the post of US District Attorney for the Western District of Virginia, Paul Hall scored 17 points in CHS’s victory in basketball over Wytheville, and Nelson Ridinger and Nat Shifflette were reported as being invited to be the guests of the Roanoke Chamber of Commerce for a dinner at The Hotel Roanoke. Of further interest to my generation of locals was the issuance of a marriage license to Robert Lee Swain and Mattie Evangeline Coker, who ended up parenting part of the great Swain clan I grew up with.
There was also an article on my Wahoos beating the Gobblers in basketball 108-95 to “give the Cavaliers undisputed possession of second place in the State Big Six College Race” (I had known that UVA, Tech, William & Mary, Richmond and VMI had made up the “Big Five” when I was a kid – apparently Washington & Lee was the sixth member and was soon to be relegated).
The Messenger, in giving what I can only assume were year-end governmental summaries of interest, reported that there were 1746 deeds recorded, 244 marriage licenses issued, and 42 divorces granted in 1952 by the county clerk. Emphasizing the priorities of Montgomery Countians of the era, there were 3545 hunting and fishing licenses issued and 412 big game stamps.
In news from outside the county, there was a report on the murder indictment of “a prominent Bluefield, W. Va. traveling salesman” who had engaged in a close-quarter gun battle” in a hotel room in Grundy, with the “men firing a total of 10 shots while standing within six paces of each other” following an argument over room rent.” The “prominent traveling salesman” had apparently won the battle but lost the legal war.
There were also the mandatory “social” reports on matters like the birthday party of an eight-year-old girl, a patient recuperating nicely from an appendectomy and another from cataract surgery, and one poor fellow who was “still indisposed” (thankfully, we were not told from what). My favorites were about a gentleman who hosted a “luncheon and TV party” for his teenage son and a daughter who had her parents over for lunch.
A complete column could be written about the several pages of advertising in the Messenger that week – from “Ladies’ Blouses” for “67 Cents Each” at Leggett’s to “Johnny of Philip Morris Fame” appearing IN PERSON at Mick or Mack in Christiansburg and Blacksburg, presumably to hawk cigarettes.
As I suggested earlier, the writing and feel of the “reporting” was folksy and neighborly and even erudite at times – here is a closing example from the risky forecast of “cloudy weather”:
“There is a limit set to the rain and a blessed extreme beyond which the cold may not blow. If winter comes, can spring be far behind? There is beauty and comfort in this unfailing rhythm.”
All this news for only “TEN CENTS A COPY!” God bless the Messenger and its legacy.
