Ron Rash has never been to an opera. But later this month, he’ll sit down to enjoy an opus based on stories and poems he wrote about the Southern Appalachian mountains he calls home. 

“Shelton Laurel: An Appalachian Opera” takes place over a few years around the Civil War. The opera, which will see its world premiere later this month, tells the tale of farmers in Madison County’s Shelton Laurel, not far from Western Carolina University’s Bardo Arts Center in Cullowhee where the work will be performed. 

At this point, I would like to tell you about my great-great grandfather, Bryant Carden, who joined the Confederacy. Bryant was known for writing wonderful letters in calligraphy, and the illustration below, of a bird in flight, is an example. 

To the Editor:

On Memorial Day — a holiday that originally honored Union soldiers who died defending the principles enshrined in our Constitution and Declaration of Independence, and now encompasses all who have served these United States — my wife and I revisited my childhood haunts in Western North Carolina.

To the Editor:

It has been refreshing to see so many on the political left protesting tariffs recently.

For anyone who is not aware, it is well documented that tariffs, not slavery, were the primary reason for the Southern States to secede in the 1860s.

To The Editor:

I appreciate your straightforward and informative coverage of the removal of the plaque over Sylva Sam’s Confederate flag. I am a 21-year resident of Jackson County, and have enjoyed positive relations with fellow citizens here during all those years, no matter what our political views were.  

Anyone interested in the history of our country will benefit by reading “The Dogs of War: 1861” (Oxford University Press, 2011, 128 pages).

Having recently read and reviewed for the Smoky Mountain Living magazine Vicki Lane’s And The Crows Took Their Eyes, a fine novel set in Madison County during the Civil War and focused on the Shelton Laurel Massacre, this week I returned to that era with J.L. Askew’s War In The Mountains: The Macbeth Light Artillery at Asheville, N.C. 1864-1865 (Covenant Books, Inc., 2020, 535 pages).

Weary and sore they came upon a small copse of Loblolly pines swaying high above a sea of softly undulating golden broomsedge just as the first light of dawn faded in from the east. 

For weeks, they’d slept during the balmy spring days and walked mostly by moonlight, never by road. At times they’d take to the train tracks, ducking into the underbrush when one of them would sense the coming of the iron horse. Other times they strode along soaring tree lines edging fallow fields, damp spongy soil radiating the last of the day’s heat to their bare feet, until they found some small, safe, out-of-the way place as dark and anonymous as their faces.

The years following the Civil War brought great changes to Western North Carolina. The railroads penetrated these coves and mountains, carrying tourists, flat-landers and goods to small towns previously isolated by their forbidding terrain. Following the railroads were the timber barons, eager to harvest the ancient forests and able now to move and sell the lumber to outside buyers. Though many of those native to the region remained in poverty, others were able to make their fortunes in the mountains.

Ever have those days when you’re running against the wind, sprinting through the minutes and hours, arms and legs pumping away, sucking air, and still feeling like you just can’t keep up? No matter how you push yourself, no matter what you do, each day finds you falling behind in the race to complete your obligations.