The Great Smoky Mountain Association has a great deal of information on the Walker Sisters, and they kindly allowed us to reprint a poem from Louisa Walker (spelling is hers):
There’s an old weather bettion house
That stands near a wood
With an orchard near by it
For almost one hundred years it has stoodIt was my home in infency
It sheltered me in youth
When I tell you I love it
I tell you the truthFor years it has sheltered
By day and night
From the summer’s sun heat
And the cold winter blightBut now the park commisioner
Comes all dressed up so gay
Saying this old house of yours
We must now take awayThey coax they wheedle
They fret they bark
Saying we have to have this place
For a National ParkFor us poor mountain people
They don’t have a care
But must a home for
The wolf the lion and the bearBut many of us have a tltle
That is sure and will hold
To the City of Peace
Where the streets are pure goldThere no lion in its fury
Those pathes ever trod
It is the home of the soul
In the presence of GodWhen we reach the portles
of glory so fair
The Wolf cannot enter
Neither the lion or bearAnd no park Commissioner
Will ever dar
To desturbe or molest
Or take our home from us there-By Louisa Walker, with permission of Great Smoky Mountains Association
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Comments
These ladies were my great-aunts. I wish I could have known them. I would love to talk to them about our family and our history.
Loved the article about the sisters. What strong women they were. So wonderful they were able to stay in there home till the end. I want to go to the park and see their home and the school there father and brothers built. Louisa poem was so true.
I loved the articles about the Walker sisters, the poem, and the Smokies! I’ve only been thru the Smokies twice. This was when I was taken over the Smokies into Cherokee, N.C. I am Cherokee Indian. This was such a beautiful area! I cannot express in words how I felt as a Cherokee! Thank you so much for sharing the article and poems!
First I must thank the Great Smoky Mountains Association for letting the Post publish this in 1946 and I must thank the post for including it in my e-mail. I appreciate poetry(am a very non-traditional college student. English maj/writing minor), especially when it speaks of love of the land. I have been to Asheville, N.C., and it is absolutely beautiful; the mountains are majestic. I could not imagine having to leave my home that stood in such beauty. Her poem was very plain and simple, but I still felt her hurt and betrayal and her sadness.
When “Time Stood Still in the Smokies” I was 22 years old and a new bride. My husband’s grandparents lived in Munday, West Virginia. My grandparets were dead, and my aunts and uncles lived in or near Quaker City, Ohio. Grandma Wolverton and my aunts wore dresses much like those pictured in this afticle. The home in Quaker City was owned by a utility company until they had pumped all the natural gas from under it and then it was abandoned. The Wolverton home, I believe, has been retained and turned into a sort of tourist attraction by some of his great, great grandchildren.