Pembroke Berry of  St. Petersburg, Florida

I appreciate your book. It brings back many fond memories. See, I lived at the mouth of Cobb Run, a few yards from the mouth of Barnett Run, across from the Boggs Cemetery from about the age of 5 until I entered the Service in 1941. My mother was the daughter of Maston Roberts and  the sister of Fred Roberts, Ella Hollingsworth and sister-in law to Ruby Roberts and others mentioned in your book. There were so many cousins and friends mentioned whom I grew up with. My mother sold our place and moved to Cowen with our youngest brother and sister because we three older boys were in the service. In the school year 1932/33 they had the first year of high school at Erbacon. Lucille Cody was the teacher. My brother, Edwin, and I walked up Cobb Run, across Thomas Mountain to Erbacon for our first year of high school. After that, we attended Cowen High School and graduated in 1936. I knew so many of the people on Birch, at Cowen, Camden, Upper Glade, the business etc. which made me very appreciative of your book. I took many a swim at the Falls and had Buck McCoy grind corn for meal at the Grist Mill at the Falls. Twice, when I was about 6 or 7 years of age, my daddy took me on the Shay to Erbacon to catch the B&O train to Weston to a Doctor Burton to have my tonsils removed and a broken arm set.  My daddy, Joseph Lewis Berry, was a partner with Bill Waggy in the pulp wood business at Waggy where I was born on June 16, 1917. I think I was about two years of age when we moved to Skyles. My daddy was a lumber grader for the Eakin Lumber Co from the time we moved to Skyles and after we moved to Boggs until the Company moved to Fenwick.  When I left for the Service in 1941, there was no hardtop road, no inside plumbing, no telephone service and no electricity on Birch. I appreciate the Scripture in your book. Here, I have rambled on and haven't solved anything. I wish you the best. 

Pembroke Berry

Stanley Freeman Wilson of Lodi, Ohio

River on the Rocks is great.  There are too many words to type to describe it.  The quality and construction are superb as are the contents and illustrations.  The people mentioned in the book that I know or have met would be around 80%.  I was born at Herold on January 12, 1926.  My father was Vernon Wilson and my mother was Delphia Given Wilson.  My maternal grandparents were Edward and Margaret Perrine Given.  I was born at the farm located off Adams Ridge, overlooking the river.  I believe in later years the farm was purchased by Lee Smith.  My grandfather was thrown off of his riding horse and killed near the junction of Adams Road and the road going toward Strange Creek.  My wife, Hextene,  (nickname - Tortie) was the daughter of Haymond Adkins and Elma Carte Adkins.  My wife was the great granddaughter of Levi Carte.  So much for genealogy...let's get to fishing.

The best years of my fishing experiences were between the years 1946 to 1951.  I started with a fly rod on trout streams: Williams, Cranberry and Cherry Rivers.  I fished from Cora Brown Bridge area to Herold a few times.  My fishing partner was "Abbey" Butcher.  I believe his uncle was Edmond Murphy but I'm not sure.  Anyway, I have parked at Herold and fished the rest of the way to Glendon.  I wish I had known the names of all those tributaries when I was experiencing these trips.

I did a lot of fishing at Glendon, fishing in the Elk and Birch.  This was in the years of 1946 to 1951.  I had Elliot Butcher build me a john boat and I paid him to maintain it and moor it at his house.  I would go across the swing foot bridge over Elk, walk across the trestle overhead of Birch and walk to his house to get my boat.  The largest smallmouth I ever caught in Birch was 22" and weighed close to 5 pounds.  I caught it a little upriver from Elliot's house.  Could this be the Turn Hole?  I was using an orange flatfish.  It was quite a tussle with a smallmouth of that size.  I was fishing in Elk once above the swinging bridge, about 150 yard, when I had my first encounter with a big musky.  On the railroad side of the river were some willow branches overhanging the river's edge.  I tossed a plug under them and had only started retrieving it about 3 feet, when it hit.  It started toward the middle of the river and made one leap and then went deep to the bottom.  This only last about 30 seconds.  It had broken the line.  That sure was a big fish.

I am going through my old photo albums looking for pictures of Birch but have yet to find any.  I am thrilled with the book as now I have the names of the places where I spent my time fishing.  I have been in Ohio since February of 1953.  Thanks for everything.

Thanks for writing "River on the Rocks".  My husband, Arden Hammons, would have enjoyed it as much as I have.  We once lived on Skyles Creek and my husband showed me where the old sawmill was and all of the small buildings.  It was really hard to believe as there wasn't anything there to prove that there had been a mill there.  Arden was born at Tioga and his family moved to Birch when he was young.  Arden's mother was born up Birch at a place called Brooksville.  Rattlesnake Bill Dodrill had been her schoolteacher.  When Arden was a young boy, he rode a horse to the McCoy's Mill near Boggs to have corn ground.   When Arden's family lived up on the mountain, he told me how there were several times when the  Ghost Wagon ( a legend associated with the mill) came around the ridge.  One time Arden and his dad were on a wagon and heard the Ghost Wagon coming and their horses moved to the side of the road to let it pass!  They never saw a thing.  At the John Dodrill place there is a swinging bridge that is built pretty high up away from the river, with several steps on both ends.  On a dark night, Arden and his dad got there with no light.  They climbed the steps, feeling their way and as Pa stepped on the bridge, a light shone on the bridge and water very clearly.  When they stepped off the other side, the light went out.  The 1954 flood ( on upper Birch) was a scary time for me.  I was home along with three small children, as Arden was around on Anthony Creek where he and Fred Dodrill had a garden.  There was water, water everywhere.  I always enjoyed the time I lived on Skyles, picnicking and and fishing on Birch River, picking berries and avoiding copperheads while hunting ginseng.   Thanks for the memories...

I grew up on the Smith farm at the head of Birch.  I have a lot of fond memories of Birch River. My most treasured memory is riding in the wagon with my Dad when he went down to the foot of the birch hill to get coal for ourselves and my Grandma and Ruth Smith.  We had to get off and walk back up the hill because it was such a load for the horses.  I was so scared and sad to see the horses I loved so dearly, laboring so hard.  What a relief when they made it around the bend under the old rock cliff.  From there it was easy for them to continue after a long rest.

After we got a truck in the late 1930's, our Sunday ride was down Birch River.  All of our Christmas trees, until we moved to Ohio in 1966, came from the Birch.  What fun it was to go down there and tramp through the woods until we found one we wanted to top.

My mother taught school one year at Boggs during the war ( WW II).  I had to drive hew down every morning and go get her every evening. Believe me, the road wasn't what it is today.  During that time while I was waiting for her, I went up on the hill and found a lady slipper for my flower collection for biology class.

I'm still reading the book about the Birch River and so far I'm very impressed. The website is wonderful--especially the pictures of the Henshelwood Eddy and immediately below. Me   and my dad (Danny Richardson Sr. of Dille, WV) and my brother (Mike Davis of Dille, WV) ,   and my Grandfather (Tom Richardson of Dille, WV) and many friends fished the Birch when I  was younger. I remember spending many a night beside a fire fishing for quite a variety of fish in Henshelwood Eddy. The first walleye I ever saw was caught by my     brother one of those nights we fished. It was probably 15" long. I think I was around 10   years old.  I'm 31 now. I remember numerous times we caught carp and catfish so big we couldn't lift them up over the bank. Most of them got away. The first fish I ever caught in my life came from the Birch. We set our rods overnight and checked them the next morning. I had a 22" channel cat. At 8 years old, I sure was proud and I'll remember that fish for the rest of my life. Thanks for the book and the memories.