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 Br
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Vol
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ume 1 THE OLD OZARKS
A History of the Ozarks

Volume 1
The Old Ozarks
A History of the Ozarks

Volume 1
The Old Ozarks

Brooks Blevins
© 2018 by the Board of Trustees
of the University of Illinois
All rights reserved
Manufactured in the United States of America
c 5 4 3 2 1
∞ This book is printed on acid-free paper.

This project is supported in part by a grant from

the Arkansas Humanities Council and the National
Endowment for the Humanities.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Blevins, Brooks, 1969– author.
Title: A history of the Ozarks / Brooks Blevins.
Description: Urbana : Board of Trustees of
the University of Illinois, [2018] | Includes
bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: lccn 2017052029 | isbn 9780252041914
(hardcover : alk. paper)
Subjects: lcsh: Ozark Mountains—History.
Classification: lcc f417.o9 b64 2018 | ddc 976.7/1—dc23
lc record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017052029

E-book isbn 9780252050602

For Lynn Morrow
 Contents

Acknowledgments ix

Introduction 1
1 The Primitive Ozarks 11
2 Natives and Newcomers 21
3 Americanizing the Ozarks 69
4 Domesticating the Ozarks 119
5 Markets, Merchants, and Manufacturers 155
6 American Society in the Old Ozarks 197

Notes 241
Index 283
 Acknowledgments

Hundreds of people contributed to this book, though I do not have the space to
thank all of them by name. Much of the research was made possible by a grant
from the Graduate College of Missouri State University (MSU), and I thank Dean
Victor Matthews and the MSU College of Humanities and Public Affairs for the
year-long sabbatical during which the first draft was completed.
I received valuable assistance at a number of research depositories. I thank
Anne M. Baker, Tracie Gieselman-Holthaus, and Shannon Mawhiney of the Mis-
souri State University Special Collections, as well as former head David Richards.
Geoffrey Stark and the staff at the University of Arkansas Special Collections in
Fayetteville were always helpful, friendly, and professional. As always, I benefited
immeasurably from the aid of the staff at the Shiloh Museum of Ozark History
in Springdale, Arkansas, including Carolyn Reno, Marie Demeroukas, and Susan
Young. Meredith McFadden (and, earlier, Lisa Perry) at the Northeast Arkansas
Regional Archives in Powhatan provided generous assistance and advice. I ap-
preciate the help and hospitality of John Bradbury and Beth Lane on my frequent
visits to the Rolla research center of the State Historical Society of Missouri. I ben-
efited from the cheerful aid of Katie Seale and Erin Smither at the State Historical
Society’s Springfield center, and I appreciate the help of the staffs in Columbia
and Cape Girardeau. Jane Wilkerson and the archival assistants at the Arkansas
State Archives in Little Rock have assisted my searches for more years than I can
count. Michael Price, Brian Grubbs, and Renee Glass of the Library Center in
Springfield, Missouri, provided crucial information and assistance. As always,
Kathy Whittenton, Camille Beary, Brenda Lindsey, and the staff at Lyon College’s
Mabee-Simpson Library and Mary Ellen Hawkins and Daniel Lindsey of Ozarka
College’s Paul Weaver Library provided valuable help, as did Sylvia Kuhlmeier,
Neva J. Parrott, Sophia Skinner, and Rose Scarlet at the Garnett Library of Mis-
souri State University–West Plains. I also thank the professionals at the Missouri
x Acknowledgments

Historical Museum and Archives in St. Louis; the Missouri State Archives in Jef-
ferson City; the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library in Springfield, Illinois; the
Church History Library in Salt Lake City, Utah; the Gilcrease Museum Library in
Tulsa, Oklahoma; the Murray State University Special Collections and Archives,
in Murray, Kentucky; the Rubenstein Library at Duke University; the Southern
Historical Collection in the Wilson Library at the University of North Carolina
at Chapel Hill; and the Tennessee State Library and Archives in Nashville. I also
appreciate the assistance of the wonderful staff at the Meyer Library of Missouri
State University, including tireless interlibrary loan librarian Shannon Conlon.
For the many hours they spent crafting the maps that appear in the book, I
thank Jim Coombs and his student assistant, Emilie Burke. For their efforts in
compiling statistical data, I thank Zachary Beck and Shawnette Kimble. Brad
Hollaway’s excellent tutorial taught me how to use those Excel files full of num-
bers. I am indebted to Jim Carroll, Brandon Love, and Professor K. D. Webb
for their expertise and Annie Blevins for the artwork adorning my research
folders. Among the many others whose contributions deserve note are Blake
Perkins, George Lankford, Ben Rader, Tom Peters, Joan Gould, Robert Myers,
Steve Saunders, Curtis Copeland, Leland Payton, Crystal Payton, Brien Hall,
Gordon McCann, James J. Johnston, Neal Lopinot, Kris Sutliff, Liz Sobel, Mil-
ton Rafferty, Robert Flanders, Donald Holliday, Russel Gerlach, Twyla Gill
Wright, Dorothy Boynton, Stephen Barnett, John Chuchiak, Jamie Brandon,
Morris S. Arnold, and Charlie Alison.
A number of scholars read all or parts of this book in manuscript form. This
book and the trilogy are stronger because of the advice of Dan Pierce and Bruce
Stewart. I also appreciate the excellent critiques of the press’s anonymous readers.
Lynn Morrow and John Bradbury lent their expertise in careful readings of The
Old Ozarks, saving me from a number of errors; any that remain are mine alone.
Once again it has been a pleasure and an honor to work with the wonderful staff
at the University of Illinois Press. James Engelhardt championed the idea of a
trilogy on the Ozarks almost from the beginning of our correspondence, and
he has proven to be a first-rate editor by any measurement. Tad Ringo served
as an expert project manager, Jill R. Hughes’s copyediting made this a stronger
book, and I enjoyed working with Julie Laut in outreach and development.
Finally, I offer my sincere gratitude to my friend and mentor, Lynn Morrow,
who knows more about the Ozarks than any sane person should. Lynn reached
out to me twenty years ago when I was still a graduate student and has served as
both literal and figurative tour guide through the contours and the decades of
our native region ever since. I can’t even count the number of times that I took
an interest in someone or something from the region’s past, only to discover
that Lynn had already published on the topic or had compiled a fat file on the
subject. Without Lynn Morrow, The Old Ozarks would not exist, and it is for
that reason that I dedicate the book to him.
A History of the Ozarks

Volume 1
The Old Ozarks
 Introduction

This is the story of an American region. It is the story of a place long controlled
by the Osages, claimed by the French, and for decades under the jurisdiction of
the Spanish Crown. It was a place that became the first dumping ground for Na-
tive Americans who were pressured out of their ancestral homelands and pushed
across the Mississippi River, a place traversed by thousands of Cherokees on the
last leg of their Trail of Tears. It was a destination for Tennesseans, Kentuckians,
Virginians, and Carolinians in ox carts and covered wagons. It was a launching
point for forty-niners and cattle drives to the western coast. It was a place that
hosted the early business ventures of the men who established the Rocky Moun-
tain fur trade. It was the place where General Ulysses S. Grant received his first
star. It was home to lead miners and iron mongers, to cowboys and slaves, to
circuit riders and trappers, dirt farmers and counterfeiters. It was the last hunting
ground of Daniel Boone. It was home to industrialist Moses Austin and his son,
Stephen F., the “Father of Texas.” It was the birthplace and childhood home of
African American scientist and inventor George Washington Carver. It was home
to Hermann Jaeger, a Swiss immigrant credited with saving the European wine
industry in the nineteenth century. It was the site of “Wild Bill” Hickok’s first
shootout and Jesse James’s first train robbery. It was where a teenage Charlie Parker
honed his licks on the alto sax. It is now the home of the world’s largest retail
corporation, the nation’s leading meat-producing company, and one of the world’s
finest collections of American art.
Not what you expected from an introduction to a history of the Ozarks? What
if I told you that it was a region settled overwhelmingly by white pioneers from the
Appalachians, some of whose descendants were still singing seventeenth-century
British ballads and making moonshine whiskey in hidden caves at the dawn of
color television? That it was a place where the rules of neighborly civility melted
2 Introduction

in the heat of the Civil War, where racially motivated violence occurred at a per
capita rate matched by few other areas in the years sandwiching the turn of the
twentieth century? That vast stretches of its rocky, infertile ridges and hollows,
or hollers, provided little more than bare subsistence for generations of families
and that these families once composed a significant percentage of the country’s
migrant labor supply? That it was home to at least one community tucked so far
back into the inaccessible hills that electric power lines finally reached it the same
year that humans piloted a rocket ship to the moon and back? That it contains
some of the nation’s most concentrated districts of white poverty, some of the
poorest counties west of the Mississippi? Sound more like it?
Welcome to the Ozarks, an American region with no single story to tell, a
place more complex than you imagined but maybe just as colorful as you hoped.
The Old Ozarks is the first book in a trilogy recounting the history of the Ozark
region and its human inhabitants. It’s a remarkably ancient story, spanning al-
most one and a half billion years—though, as a historian and not a geologist or
anthropologist, I’ve made short shrift of all but the last teensy smidgen of that
time span. In an era before barefooted hillbillies, wildcatters, and hoedown fid-
dlers came to define “the Ozarks” in the national consciousness, the people who
inhabited the physiographic region known as the “Ozark uplift” were regular
actors in the American drama. Due to geography and distance from the nation’s
eastern economic and cultural core, their existence reflected a regional varia-
tion of a national story, certainly, but this regional variation did not influence
residents of the Ozark uplift to view themselves as somehow fundamentally
distinct from other Americans in the nineteenth century and before, nor did
it inspire outsiders to consciously label the region as a separate, unique place.
Studies of regions are often predicated solely on their differences from national
norms, on their exceptional and exotic qualities. But focusing exclusively on a
region’s perceived peculiarities or special qualities distorts the historical record
by obscuring the economic, social, and cultural strands that entwine regional
histories within a nation’s story. And reading a region’s socially constructed
imagery and identity back into the past refracts the history of a place through
the lens of presentism.
Whether our peculiarities are perceived or real, in the Ozarks we are no strang-
ers to stereotype. We’re accustomed to being labeled by outsiders. “Hillbillies,”
“ridge runners,” “hayseeds,” “hicks,” or sometimes even less derogatory terms—
“hill folks,” “mountaineers.” On occasion we have co-opted a label and made it
our own. Someone from rural south central Missouri referring to himself as a
hillbilly reflects a certain vigilant pride. That same man might be ready to fight
if called a hillbilly by a Chicagoan. Either way, the label almost certainly origi-
nated in the mind of a person who was no hillbilly nor desired to be one. Labels
are so central to regional history that something as seemingly benign as the
 Introduction 3

naming of the Ozarks underscores the elusive nature of identifying and branding
regions. It is fitting that the Native Americans whose name played a leading role
in the neology of the word “Ozarks” were not residents of the Ozark plateau.
Even more apropos is that they didn’t get to name themselves either.
So we begin our journey into the past with a quick peek into the origins of
the region’s only truly unique characteristic: its name. The search for the birth
of a regional appellation starts not in the hills and hollers and prairies but
on the Mississippi River, whence all our waters flow. To the French in North
America the Mississippi was a great highway, slicing through the heart of the
continent on its way to the Gulf of Mexico. Blocked by the Spanish and the
English from all but the most northerly section of the New World, the French
came to explore the great interior valley of this vast continent not from the
south but from the north, after exploration and settlement that advanced up
the St. Lawrence River and into the country of the Great Lakes. Beyond the
lakes, the coureurs de bois, voyageurs, and missionaries encountered the water-
shed of the great highway into the heart of North America. It had been more
than a century since the greedy and ill-fated journey of Spaniard Hernando
de Soto and his men, and still no European monarch had laid spurious claim
to this verdant valley. After several years of exploration of the Mississippi
country, in 1686 French soldiers and traders established their first outpost in
the river’s lower valley among a tribe of natives living at and near the mouth
of a large tributary. Having first encountered the various tribes of the Illini
confederation on their southward journeys, the French adopted the “Illini”
label for the Indians in the vicinity of their new outpost. Thus, the presump-
tuous, bearded newcomers called the outpost, the tributary, and the natives
“Arcansas,” Illini for “people of the south wind.”1
By the middle of the eighteenth century, this swampy, riverine land of the
Arkansas, or Quapaw, Indians in the heart of the Mississippi River Delta had
taken on a new name. An abbreviation commonly found on French documents
and letters originating at the Arkansas Post, the phrase aux arcs or aux arc—
meaning “at the land of the Arkansas”—came to denote the area around the
mouth of the river. When British traders arrived on the left bank of the Missis-
sippi, in the late 1760s, they adopted an anglicized version of the area’s name,
“Ozark,” for their own outpost. By the end of the century, European and Indian
hunters and trappers had carried the name up the Arkansas and White rivers.
On their journey to map the lands of the Mississippi’s largest western tributaries
in 1819 and 1820, U.S. Army Major Stephen H. Long’s team of cartographers
found the word “Ozark” used to denote the high country that geographers today
refer to as the U.S. Interior Highlands. On his official map of the trans-Mississippi
region, Long labeled the hills and mountains stretching from near St. Louis to
the Red River valley the “Ozark Mountains.”2 Geographers in the early twentieth
4 Introduction

century would shrink the physical boundaries of the Ozarks by separating the
Ouachita Mountains from the Ozarks, thus limiting Long’s label to the highlands
north of the Arkansas River. Any affiliation of the lower Arkansas River country
with the term “Ozark” or “Ozarks” ceased even earlier.
If history illustrates a shrinking Ozarks, it also tells us that there is and has
been more than one Ozarks: a physical Ozarks and a cultural Ozarks. Ma-
jor Long’s identification of the “Ozark Mountains” was predicated on physical
characteristics alone, as were the efforts of early twentieth-century geographers
Curtis Marbut and Carl O. Sauer, who confined the boundaries of the Ozark
uplift to the smaller region that we recognize today.3 Though geographers have
not always agreed on the exact borders of the region, there is a level of scientific
objectivity and consensus that simplifies the identification of a physiographic

Selection from “Map of Arkansa and Other Territories of the United States,” by
S. H. Long, 1822. Courtesy of State Historical Society of Missouri, Columbia.
 Introduction 5

region. Thus, the Ozark Mountains, Ozark uplift, or Ozark plateau is rendered,
by our rather myopic and mortal outlook, a fixed and everlasting entity, a place
as solid and unchanging as the age-old igneous rocks of the St. Francois Moun-
tains, the ancient core of the region.
But you and I are human, and history is preoccupied with our kind. Defining
a region historically or culturally is a different ball game altogether. A human
region is a social construct. A human, or cultural, region owes its existence
to our labeling, to our recognition of its uniqueness, or at the very least to its
comparative differentiation from peoples and places around it. Fundamental to
the human, cultural region is the sense of identity that these factors encourage.
A region based on group identification rarely proves an identical match for its
corresponding physiographic or political region. Humans refuse to be bound
by geographic determinism. Our cultural boundaries tend to be frustratingly
fluid and unquantifiable. Sociologist John Shelton Reed devoted most of a long
and distinguished career to the study of the American South, particularly the
challenge of defining and mapping a cultural South. The South, too, is a social
construct, and “as far as its boundaries,” concludes Reed, “the South begins
wherever people agree that it does.”4 Although there are obvious dissimilarities
in mapping the Ozarks and mapping the South—one grounded in physiography,
the other more a political and historical creation—it would not be inaccurate
to define the cultural Ozarks as the place where Ozarkers live.
The alternative ways of defining a place and a people illustrate the challenge
facing the regional historian. Should regional history encompass physiographic
borders—should it be, in this case, the history of the people living in the Ozark
uplift? Or should regional history follow the more amorphous contours of cultur-
ally influenced regional identification; should it be the history of the Ozarkers,
whoever and whenever they happened to be? Or can it be both? A History of the
Ozarks attempts to be both. The cultural region we know as the Ozarks—the
socially constructed place where the Ozarkers live—is a post–Civil War creation,
mostly a twentieth-century development, but it is a creation that has retroactively
distorted our visions of the history of the people who predated the cultural con-
struct (the proto-Ozarkers) and the place they occupied. Thus, this first volume
in the trilogy, The Old Ozarks, is in effect a history of the inhabitants of a physio-
graphic region, the story of proto-Ozarkers and others whose lives played out in
the uplands between the Missouri and Arkansas rivers, and the development of
a society that would one day be identified as "the Ozarks". It is the story of a place
that became a people. The second book in the trilogy, The Conflicted Ozarks,
provides a look at the region’s experience with the long Civil War era, a develop-
ment that largely shattered the world of the old Ozarks. The third and final volume,
The Ozarkers, picks up the story with the creation of the social construct of “the
Ozarks” and points the lens at the cultural Ozarks, focusing on the people and
6 Introduction

communities who self-identified with “the Ozarks” or whose lifestyles and folk-
ways became central to observers’ definitions of “the Ozarks.”
The Ozark region of the trilogy and this book may not encompass the full
range of highlands identified by Major Stephen H. Long as the Ozark Mountains
two centuries ago, but it still covers a physiographic region roughly the size of
the state of New York. It is a physiography with wide variations of terrain and
soil types. One of the foundational concepts in the study of the Ozarks is the
understanding that the region is not monolithic. It is an elementary concept to
anyone who has devoted even a little time to exploring the region, or to simply
driving through it. Physiographically, the Ozark uplift consists of at least four
different subregions and, depending on how selective your geographical criteria,
as many as nine or more. A couple of these subregions have been outliers in the
region’s history, so much so that they are generally not considered part of the
modern-day cultural Ozarks. The Mississippi River and Missouri River borders
that geographers place within the boundaries of the Ozark uplift boasted flat, al-
luvial fields and an ease of transportation and shipping that oriented farmers and
villagers away from the hills to a world of riverine commerce and culture. Still,
river towns served as entrepôts for the people and trade of the interior Ozarks
and thus played a role in the early development of farming and commerce in
the region. The Old Ozarks and succeeding books, however, deal primarily with
the people and events of the vast interior of the Ozark uplift.
Physical characteristics of subregional differentiation have exercised no small
influence on socioeconomic cleavages from one area to another, even within the
region’s interior. To overgeneralize for the sake of clarity, since the early days
of white settlement the Ozark region has been a land of haves and have-nots.
Where seekers and travelers found comparatively fertile soils, plentiful water,
and gently undulating terrain, settlements and prosperity made prompt ap-
pearances and held on through subsequent generations. Where infertile upland
soils and rugged, rocky terrain dissuaded settlement for decades and scarcely
rewarded agricultural homesteaders, even modest prosperity was hard to come
by. The Springfield Plain, representing the best example of the fertile, prosper-
ous Ozarks, remains to this day the most densely populated and most heavily
capitalized of all the subregions and is the locus of universities, Fortune 500
companies, and metropolitan statistical areas. In stark contrast, subregions such
as the Boston Mountains and the Courtois Hills envelop within their romantic
ridges and hollers sparse populations whose generations of poverty evince no
signs of abating. Some might say that the Springfield Plain looks like America
and always has, while the Boston Mountains and Courtois Hills look like “the
Ozarks.” It would be more accurate, however, to claim that the Ozarks in toto
looks more like America, with oases of wealth and prosperity amid vast stretches
of countryside and towns whose fortunes range from middling to just north
 Introduction 7

of hopeless. If deep hollers and rugged hills, and the people who surely must
inhabit them, match the Ozarks of popular imagination, it is because the social
construct of the region depended on such imagery for its creation and evolu-
tion. Essentialized to its most colorful common denominator, this romanticized
version of the deep Ozarks became “the Ozarks” in the public consciousness,
obscuring the diversity of the region’s dwellers and their physical habitats and
mythologizing the region’s early history in the process.
The mythologizing of the Ozarks has been wide ranging and persistent. It
has flashed in bold declarations through generations of literature, travel writ-
ing, folklore, and history. The mythology insists that the inhabitants of the
Ozark uplift, whether of the ancient world or the modern, have lived lives of
isolation, distanced from the currents and conflicts of an evolving world and
distrustful of and antagonistic to the forces of change and modernization. For
decades the mythology created images of prehistoric, isolated bluff-dwelling
troglodytes and twentieth-century, backward cabin-dwelling hillbillies. There
has long been a sleekness to the study of the Ozarks that mocks disciplinary
and temporal boundaries in favor of a sort of regional unified theory. The
fundamental questions that underlie our understanding of the prehistoric
inhabitants of the Ozarks resemble the inquiries that shape our conceptions
of the region’s history and culture. Were the inhabitants of the Ozarks isolated
from the broader currents of culture and commerce on the continent, or
were they active participants in networks of cultural exchange and economic
trade? Did their physical environment—the ancient Ozark uplift itself—mold
a distinctive human community in the region, a culture that differed in some
fundamental sense from other peoples and other regional cultures? Did the
residents of this identifiable physiographic region display cultural character-
istics that were also identifiable and that constituted a uniform, region-wide
culture? Was there, in other words, the existence of Ozarkers, a people whose
common lifeways and worldviews granted them a certain regional/quasi-
ethnic status? Regardless of the era of inquiry, all of these queries originate
in the central question of Ozarks studies, perhaps the central question of the
study of any region: Is this place and are these people distinctive or special?
Is the Ozarks and are the Ozarkers exceptional?
For the greatest part of the last century and more, not surprisingly, the con-
sensus answer has been “yes”—sometimes an unequivocal “yes,” at other times
a qualified “yes,” but almost always in the affirmative. Naturally, those Ozarks
chroniclers addressing popular audiences highlighted the peculiarities of the
region and its residents. Almost by default, the regionalists of the early twentieth
century—from novelists like Harold Bell Wright to folklore gatherers and pur-
veyors of anachronism like Vance Randolph—described a regional population
that was colorful and unique. After all, in an age that celebrated and craved
8 Introduction

stories of regional and ethnic distinctiveness, what rational editor would publish
a piece whose subtext was “Pssst, let me tell you something. They’re really not
that different from you and me.”
Even in academic studies—sparse as this body of literature was until recent
decades—the ayes had it, at least until the present generation. Almost one hun-
dred years ago geographer Carl O. Sauer theorized that generations of poverty
and geographically induced isolation had produced a “shambling, furtive, and
shiftless type,” who clung to the rugged hill country as a sort of refuge from the
more progressive districts that encircled it.5 A couple of years later, anthropolo-
gist Mark R. Harrington discovered beneath remote rock shelters evidence of a
primitive, backwater cultural enclave—a band of prehistoric refugees, spiritual
ancestors of Vance Randolph’s intentionally unprogressive backwoodsmen of
the Depression era. Such images of Ozarks marginality have shown remarkable
staying power in academic studies of the region and in many ways continue to
infuse the popular, public discourse on Ozarkers and their stories.6
The claim of exaggeration is rooted in the idea of perspective. The stories
of the Ozarkers, like the stories of most marginalized populations, most often
have been told through the perspective of the core population, by the curious,
the critical, or the agenda-driven, whether outsiders or insiders. I make no
claims to pure objectivity in this trilogy, for such a claim must be delusional
inside the labyrinthine world of perspectives we navigate. I do make an effort
to maintain consciousness of my own dueling perspective as a child of the
rural, marginalized Ozarks steeped in the paradigm of a core population—in
this case the university-based outlook of the professional historian. Further, I
attempt to recognize the various competing perspectives of predecessors and
contemporaries whose ideas have helped shape this book. If the question of
marginality and exceptionalism constitutes the foundation for all studies of the
Ozarks, the concept of perspective forms the very ground on which that foun-
dation lies.7 More than anything else it is this multifaceted concept that makes
this mostly unexceptional story of a place and people relevant to the American
saga, that grounds the telling of a regional story in the strengths and limitations
of the human condition. If at the intersection of historical record and regional
interpretation this book contains a central premise, it is that the Ozarks, when
shorn of the mythology surrounding the birth of a regional construct known
as “the Ozarks,” comes closer to being a regional microcosm of the American
experience than to being a place and people of unique qualities.
So this book is an attempt to tell the story of a people in a place before they
became Ozarkers in the Ozarks, before writers mythologized life in the hills and
hollers of Missouri and Arkansas, before entertainers and reformers essential-
ized the people and place that beckon to us from the realm of popular culture
and public imagination. It is not an attempt to locate the origins of regional
 Introduction 9

distinctiveness in the murky mists of the past. It is not an attempt to explain

the genesis and development of peculiar political practices, of deviant cultural
characteristics, or of abnormal social habits. It is an attempt to document the
evolution of the human story in the middle-American highlands and to do so
inductively and organically within the context of the history of North America
and of the United States. Much of what you find in the pages of this trilogy will,
in fact, match your expectations. There are house raisings, spinning wheels, and
superstitions. There are buckskin-clad hunters and one-room schoolhouses,
night riders and Scots-Irish forebears, bushwhackers and smokehouses. There
are even slaves and slaveholders, the full story of whom waits to be told in the
second volume of the trilogy. The images that came to characterize the Ozarks
in the early twentieth century were not whole-cloth fabrications. Though often
exaggerations and oversimplifications, these images were inspired by real people
and a way of life that developed and evolved in the nineteenth century, a way of
life that was common to vast numbers of rural Americans before the Civil War.
The survival of pioneer lifestyles and early American culture among backcountry
Ozarkers in the early twentieth century helped define the Ozarks as a people and
place divorced from the march of time and immune to the conflicts inherent
to the dialectic of historic progression. This image of the Ozarks as an arrested
frontier continues to shroud the region’s origins—the history of its place—in
myth and misunderstanding. Let’s shed the cloak of the primitive Ozarks and
start at the beginning, in the truly primitive Ozarks.
 1 The Primitive Ozarks

Among the most beautiful and ephemeral creations of nature is something the
pioneers of the old Ozarks referred to as “rabbit ice.” Others have called the
phenomenon “frost flowers” or “ice fringes.” Venture out some late fall or early
winter morning when the temperature has dipped below freezing and you may
spot them—magnificent artworks of the most fragile ice imaginable scattered
along the ground in old fields and fence rows. Emanating from tiny holes in the
dead stems of plants sporting pronounced xylem rays—the dittany weed and
the aptly named frostweed being perhaps the most common in the Ozarks—rab-
bit ice usually materializes in the early morning hours as water ascending the
rays from the unfrozen underground pushes its way out into the open, turning
into unique formations that resemble globs of ribbon candy made of fine cotton
or silk. Few things in a stark, gray landscape are so alluring yet so short-lived.
Just a few minutes of the sun’s rays or a slight uptick in the ground temperature
melts rabbit ice away, leaving no sign of its existence.1
Of the phenomena we use to analogize the fragility and mortality of human
life, we can do worse than rabbit ice. In the grand scheme of things, even the rise,
transformation, and disappearance of human cultures and societies embody the
randomness and ephemerality of rabbit ice. Even in this little place we have so
recently labeled the Ozarks—a spot on the earth that contains only about one of
every 1,142 square miles of land on the planet—humanity’s obsession with our
own mortality has been integral to our story, crucial to the conceptualization of
a region’s role in a continent’s and nation’s drama. By the early twentieth century,
novelists and travel writers introduced American readers to a place where time
stood still, a remote and isolated region of people whose lifestyles and mind-sets
had remained unchanged for what seemed to be generations. Such places satisfy
some sense of longing in the modern, romantic mind. They provide a sense of
12 chapter 1

stability in a world of constant evolution. In retrospect it is almost laughable

that a place like the Ozarks—a region that was still home to thousands of Native
Americans in the 1820s, an area that had undergone massive waves of immigration
both before and after the Civil War—would strike people as a land of ancients.
But we mortals have a low threshold for definitions of “ancient.” It comes with
the territory of inhabiting the planet for such a brief time.
Perhaps nothing so divests us of our myopia—of our own preoccupation
with the ephemeral—than a brief trip back into geologic time. Consider for a
moment our physical and temporal experience on this planet. If you compare
the ratio of rabbit ice to human life span with that of our own encounter with
human existence on this floating rock, the average rabbit ice formation exists
for a significantly greater portion of our lives than the percentage of the earth’s
story to which we are privy. As I write this the average American lives almost
eighty years, and we will generously credit a singular occurrence of rabbit ice
with a fleeting four hours before it is banished by the sun. This means that we
last, on average, about 175,000 times longer than a rabbit ice formation. Round-
ing off the earth’s age to 4.5 billion years, we discover that for every one year we
live, there are more than 56 million earth years that we did not experience. As
far as the planet is concerned, then, you and I are indeed more ephemeral than
the sleep-late-and-you’ve-missed-it rabbit ice seems to us.
My rabbit ice digression is not intended to make you take stock, though it is
probably not the worst thing in the world should that happen. Nor is it meant
to bring you to the Lord. Most of the Ozarks preachers I’ve known would quar-
rel with my math. I invoke the spirit of rabbit ice to illustrate the limitations of
our own ephemeral perspectives, especially as they relate to geologic time and
its significance for the earth as we get to see it. No one reading this book saw the
Ozark uplift before the arrival of Homo sapiens, before the French came floating
down the Mississippi, before white settlers and black slaves plowed under native
grasses and felled virgin trees, before this same rush of humanity flushed bison
and elk from their valley haunts. Most people now living in the Ozarks did not
see the region before railroads, highways, power companies, and the Army Corps
of Engineers drastically altered its landscape, before man-made dams and power
generators altered entire ecosystems. These changes—and our species’ occupa-
tion of this place—have spanned but a geologic blink of an eye.
As far as regional cultures are concerned, the place we call the Ozarks is an
infant. Yet the land on which Ozarkers walk, farm, and play is by most mea-
sures ancient, “perhaps the oldest continuously exposed landmass in North
America.”2 The geologic story of the Ozark plateau began about a billion and
a half years ago when volcanic eruptions “accompanied by blasts of steam,
smoke, ash, and cinders, began piling debris that would eventually form the
base of the Ozarks.”3 Hundreds of millions of years of molten extrusions on the
 The Primitive Ozarks 13

surface and intrusions beneath it formed in the midst of the primordial ocean
a chain of islands of igneous rock, which survive today in the ancient core or
dome of the uplift, the St. Francois Mountains of southeastern Missouri. These
island mountains may have reached an elevation of ten thousand feet above the
ocean floor, perhaps a mile above the surface of the water.4 What remains of
our weathered St. Francois Mountains is unlikely to impress anyone who has
looked upon infant ranges such as the Rockies or the Andes. A young man with
a strong back and nothing better to do could probably lug an anvil to the peak
of Taum Sauk, Missouri’s highest point. Come see what the Himalayas have to
look forward to in a couple of billion years or so.
It took hundreds of millions of years of rain, wind, and rising and falling
ocean levels to smooth and round the domes of the St. Francois Mountains.
Beginning more than half a billion years ago and continuing for some 300 mil-
lion years, the ocean waters that helped wear down the mountains harbored
sea creatures whose compressed remains gradually cemented into sedimentary
rock such as dolomite and limestone, interlaid below the Ozark surface with
layers of sandstone. Embedded among the dolomite and limestone was another
type of sedimentary rock that geologists refer to as “chert.” Composed of a silica
compound, lumps of relatively insoluble chert littered the plateau after eons of
water movement dissolved the limestone and dolomite.5 It is chert that gives
the region its well-deserved reputation for rocky ground. And it is this plentiful
rock that inspired the naming of Stone County, Arkansas, and ruined many a
fine afternoon for farm kids who were instructed to haul rocks from pastures
and freshly plowed fields.
Amid the rise and fall of ocean waters, the region’s elevation and appear-
ance underwent change as continental collisions and tectonic shifts brought
about periods of uplift, followed by ages of erosion and leveling. One such
uplift, occurring approximately 300 million years ago along what was once
a southern continental coastline, created the subregion that today boasts the
highest elevations in the Ozark uplift and the greatest relief of any landscape
between the Appalachians and the Rockies. In spite of the favorable appel-
lation and impressive vistas, the Boston Mountains are not mountains in a
geologic sense but an uplift dissected by severe erosion. This fact differentiates
the Boston Mountains from the actual mountains to the south, the Ouachitas,
whose folded and faulted ridges were formed by orogenic processes stemming
from the same continental collision.6
In fact, with the exception of the ancient core area of the St. Francois Moun-
tains, no landform in the entire region should be called a mountain. The hilly
and “mountainous” terrain of the Ozark uplift was created by erosion—and,
in the context of geologic time, comparatively recent erosion. At the end of
the Cretaceous period, when the dinosaurs disappeared from the earth some
14 chapter 1

Subregions of the Ozark Uplift. Courtesy of Jim Coombs and Emilie Burke,
Missouri State University, Springfield.

66 million years ago, erosion had almost weathered the Ozark uplift out of
existence. Its core mountains stood no more than a few hundred feet above
sea level, and much of the Ozarks took on the same general appearance as the
Everglades of modern Florida. The final uplift of the region began between 30
million and 25 million years ago, ceasing perhaps as recently as 5 million years
ago. Roughly 25 million years of down-cutting streams and runoff created the
hills and hollers that we see today. The gradual uplift preserved the meandering
river and creek channels of a flatter, swampier version of the Ozarks, resulting
in the majestic bluffs that greet canoeists and fishermen on the free-flowing
streams that survived the twentieth century’s era of dam building, such as
the Buffalo, the Current, and the Gasconade. We also owe the region’s karst
geography of springs, caves, and sinkholes to this last great episode of uplift
and erosion.7 So, no, the Ozarks are not mountains. It would be more accurate
to refer to the “Ozark valleys.” Given the hardscrabble heritage of the past 200
years of this hill country, perhaps a more modest, more plebian name might
be in order. We could, as does Ozarks native and scholar Donald Holliday,
simply call them “ditches.”8
 The Primitive Ozarks 15

Broadly speaking, the Ozark uplift has held its current shape and texture for
at least 5 million years. This is due in part to its location to the south of North
America’s center, just far enough south to avoid the flattening effects of major
continental glaciations. The Ozark uplift may have avoided direct contact with
the most recent glacier, which blanketed northern Missouri 20,000 years ago,
but it could not escape its effects. The Wisconsin ice had a pronounced cool-
ing effect on the Ozarks, transforming the ecosystem into a boreal forest of
spruce, fir, and jack pine supporting such large animals as the horse, musk ox,
giant beaver, and even the mastodon. The warming trend that sent the glaciers
into retreat more than 14,000 years ago produced, over the span of about two
millennia, an Ozark landscape similar to the one the first European explorers
encountered more than three centuries ago. The megafauna likely followed the
glacier’s chill northward before disappearing entirely, but the warmer Ozark
uplift’s mammals included the ever present whitetail deer along with other
animals that would soon vanish from the continent or the planet: the ground
sloth, horse, and tapir.9
The Ozark uplift underwent a more subtle yet still significant change when,
beginning about 8,500 years ago, the warmer and drier climatic conditions of the
Hypsithermal interval prodded the gradual eastern encroachment of the prairie
and oak savanna into a large portion of the Ozarks. At the height of the region’s
prairie phase, species such as the bison, pronghorn antelope, and prairie chicken
occupied the Ozarks and lingered in smaller numbers into the early days of
American expansion in the 1800s. Hypsithermal conditions came to an end about
5,000 years ago, around the time of the beginnings of Egyptian civilization, and
the wetter climate prompted a return to a forest ecosystem of oak and hickory
trees in which prairies and savannas remained prominent in some areas, especially
in the western Ozarks. Eventually extensive pine forests also emerged in some
Ozark locales, most notably the drainage areas of the Current and Gasconade
rivers in southern Missouri. The reforestation of much of the region bolstered the
population of animals such as deer, bears, raccoons, and turkeys, but shrinking
grasslands reduced the number of bison and other prairie species.10
Changing climatic conditions and shifting biomes also affected the activi-
ties and lifeways of another species that first entered the Ozarks before the
Hypsithermal interval, Homo sapiens. The earliest humans to venture into
the Ozark uplift, the Paleo-Indians, arrived about 12,000 years ago, at which
time the boreal forest had largely given way to a deciduous one, and the
megafauna of the old chilly Ozarks had mostly fled the region. Few in number,
these nomadic Ozark dwellers were hunters and gatherers, pursuing nuts and
berries and using stone weapons and tools to kill whitetail deer and smaller
animals as well as occasional larger prey, such as the mastodon. By the Dalton
period (10,000 to 9,000 years ago), the human population of the Ozark uplift
16 chapter 1

had likely increased. The people of this era may have intensified their gather-
ing activities—especially of walnuts and hickory nuts—but their diet remained
heavily dependent on whitetail deer, supplanted by consumption of raccoons,
beavers, rabbits, squirrels, turtles, fish, and birds. Advances in material cul-
ture—including development of the adz and tools for grinding vegetal mate-
rials—mirrored societal advancements such as trading, burial of the dead,
and something akin to permanent settlement.11
Following the Dalton era was the Archaic period, a span of roughly six mil-
lennia commencing about 9,000 years ago. Archaic peoples, like their predeces-
sors, relied on hunting, fishing, and gathering, but their activities in the Ozarks
reflect the advances of Archaic times in North America in general, the impact
of climate change, and multiple local adaptations to the region’s physiographic
diversity. Over the millennia of the Archaic period, humans developed the
atlatl (spear thrower) and an array of projectile points for it. They also crafted
sandals, mats, and bags out of twined-fiber fabrics; made tools of stone, antler,
and bone; fashioned ceremonial or decorative items such as gorgets and pen-
dants of animal teeth; and began cultivating squash, gourds, and other plants.
Evidence supports the common sense notion that life in the Archaic period was
no more monolithic than it is today, that humans adapted to life in the diverse
subregions of the Ozark landscape.12
The Woodland period, beginning some 3,000 years ago and spanning about
two millennia, was differentiated from the Late Archaic by three primary de-
velopments: pottery, burial mounds, and horticulture. The invention of pottery
proved a major catalyst for change. Pots revolutionized storage and cooking, and
both of these advantages encouraged horticultural advances and the creation of
permanent villages. The Woodland period also witnessed a substantial expan-
sion of trade networks, linking the residents of the Ozarks with peoples as far
away as the Gulf of Mexico and the Rockies. The latter years of the era saw the
widespread adoption of the bow and arrow. Agriculture took hold gradually
throughout the Woodland period but remained marginal to hunting and gath-
ering until about the year 400 ce, when the cultivation of maize spread rapidly
and widely on the continent. Grown alongside cucurbits such as squash, gourds,
and pumpkins, maize eventually squeezed out older native species that had
been cultivated for a few hundred years—lamb’s-quarter, pigweed, goosefoot,
and sunflowers.13
Some of the earliest studies of Woodland period sites also generated one of
the initial examples of a marginal interpretation of the region’s story, a depic-
tion of prehistoric Ozark society that likely owed a great deal to the era in
which it was formulated. For years a variety of burial and ceremonial mounds,
cave dwellings, and excavated prehistoric caches attracted relic hunters. One
such man was W. C. Barnard, a southwestern Missouri physician who by the
Another random document with
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 The Project Gutenberg eBook of Motion
pictures, January-June 1974 : Catalog of
copyright entries, third series, volume 28,
parts 12-13, number 1
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
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Title: Motion pictures, January-June 1974 : Catalog of copyright

entries, third series, volume 28, parts 12-13, number 1

Author: Library of Congress. Copyright Office

Release date: November 6, 2023 [eBook #72054]

Language: English

Original publication: Washington: Library of Congress. Copyright

Office, 1971

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Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOTION

PICTURES, JANUARY-JUNE 1974 : CATALOG OF COPYRIGHT
ENTRIES, THIRD SERIES, VOLUME 28, PARTS 12-13, NUMBER 1
***
Transcriber’s Note:
New original cover art included with this eBook is
granted to the public domain.
Catalog of Copyright Entries

Third Series
 ISSN 0090–8371
Catalog of Copyright Entries: Third Series

Volume 28, Parts 12–13, Number 1

 Motion Pictures

January-June

1974

COPYRIGHT OFFICE · THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS

WASHINGTON: 1974
 Library of Congress card no. 6–35347.
This number identifies the Library of Congress printed card for
the complete series of the Catalog of Copyright Entries.
ISSN 0090–8371 Key title: Catalog of copyright entries. Third
series. Parts 12–13. Motion pictures.
For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government
Printing Office, Washington, D.C. 20402. Price of this part is given
on page vi.
 Preface

The CATALOG OF COPYRIGHT ENTRIES is published by

authority of sections 210 and 211 of Title 17 of the United States
Code. Section 210 provides in part: “The current catalog of copyright
entries and the index volumes herein provided for shall be admitted
in any court as prima facie evidence of the facts stated therein as
regards any copyright registration.”
Orders, payable in advance, for all parts of the Catalog of
Copyright Entries should be sent to the Superintendent of
Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office, Washington, D.C.
20402. Orders may be placed for individual issues, as subscriptions
for one or more parts, or for the complete Catalog, for periods of
one, two, or three years. All orders should state clearly the title and
the inclusive dates of the part wanted; checks or money orders
should be made payable to the Superintendent of Documents.
The Copyright Office welcomes inquiries, suggestions, and
comments on the content and organization of the Catalog. Such
communications should be addressed to the Chief of the Cataloging
Division, Copyright Office, Library of Congress, Washington D.C.
20559.
The record of each copyright registration listed in the Catalog
includes a description of the work copyrighted and data relating to
the copyright claim (the name of the copyright claimant as given in
the application for registration, the copyright date, the copyright
registration number, etc.). For each registration listed, except for
renewals, there has been deposited a copy or copies of the work in
accordance with the provisions contained in sections 12, 13, 14, or
215 of Title 17 of the United States Code.
Each part listed in the following table records registrations in the
class or classes indicated by the alphabetical symbols. The second
and third letters, if any, that follow the initial letter are added by the
Copyright Office for the purpose of statistical analysis. Their
significance is as follows:

F Published foreign works. In the case of books and periodicals, it

designates works manufactured outside the United States
(except those registered for ad interim copyright). In all other
classes to which it applies, it designates works first published
outside the United States, the authors of which are neither
citizens nor domiciliaries of the United States. (AF, EF)
I Books and periodicals registered for ad interim copyright. (AI, BI)
O Published works of foreign origin registered under the waiver-of-
fee provision (section 215 of Title 17 of the United States Code).
(BIO, GFO)
P Domestic published works in classes for which registration is
possible for either published or unpublished works. (EP, JP)
U Unpublished works in classes for which registration is possible for
either published or unpublished works. (DU, EU)
 Price per
semiannual
issue
Part Books and Pamphlets, Including Serials and
1 Contributions to Periodicals $10.00
A Books
BB Contributions to periodicals
R Renewal registrations

Part Periodicals (Annual issue)

2 6.00
B Periodicals
R Renewal registrations

Parts Dramas and Works Prepared for Oral Delivery

3–4 3.00
C Lectures and other works prepared for oral delivery
D Dramatic or dramatico-musical works
R Renewal registrations

Part Music
5 10.00
E Musical compositions
R Renewal registrations

Part Maps and Atlases

6 3.00
F Maps
R Renewal registrations

Parts Works of Art, Reproductions of Works of Art, Scientific

7– and Technical Drawings, Photographic Works, Prints
11A and Pictorial Illustrations $3.00
G Works of art and models or designs for works of art
H Reproductions of works of art
I Drawings or sculptural works of a scientific or technical
character
J Photographs
 K Prints and pictorial illustrations
R Renewal registrations

Part Commercial Prints and Labels (Annual issue)

11B 5.00
KK Commercial prints and labels
R Renewal registrations

Parts Motion Pictures

12–
13 3.00
L Motion-picture photoplays
M Motion pictures other than photoplays
R Renewal registrations

Part Sound recordings

14 5.00
N Sound recordings

Subscription price: Complete Catalog for the year $75.00;

$18.75 additional for foreign mailing. Orders, accompanied by
remittances, should be addressed to the Superintendent of
Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office, Washington,
D.C. 20402.
Table of Contents

Page
Index 1
Current Registrations 35
Renewal Registrations 81
 Introduction

Parts 12–13 list all registrations made in classes L and M for the
period covered by this issue. An index of names and titles associated
with the work is followed by the main entries, listed in order by
registration number. Filing of the index is letter by letter, except in
the case of inverted names which are filed up to the comma or
parenthesis, after which letter by letter filing is resumed.
The main entries include, when applicable, the following
information derived from the work and application.

1) Title, followed by subtitle and/or descriptive statements. The

authorship of the work is included in this statement, with
the nature of authorship (if available).
2) Edition statement.
3) Country of publication for works registered as foreign or as ad
interim works.
4) Label name and number for registered sound recordings.
5) Physical description of the deposit.
6) Series statement.
7) Additional titles associated with the registered work such as
variant titles, alternative titles, translated titles, etc.
8) Notes; information is given here which serves to supplement
the data that is given elsewhere in the entry in order to
describe a work more accurately or identify it more
explicitly.
9) Statement that the registered work is published in or as part of
another work, or is bound with another independent work.
 10) Names of authors given in the application which do not appear
elsewhere in the entry.
11) Statement of those materials contained in the registered work
on which copyright is not claimed, when so stated in the
application.
12) Information contained in the application which relates to the
registration of an earlier version of the work.
13) Brief statement of the new matter on which copyright is
claimed when so stated in the application.
14) Copyright symbol © or Ⓟ.
15) A statement of limitation of claim if the application or notice
on the work explicitly limits the claim.
16) Name of the copyright claimant.
17) Date of publication for published works; for unpublished
works the date on which the last of all items required to
complete registration
was received in the Copyright Office.
18) Registration number.
For published works, whenever it is necessary to indicate a
variation between the information given in the application and in the
copy of the work with respect to the claimant’s name or the date of
publication, the data from the application is given first, followed by
the phrase “in notice” and the data given in the work; e.g., © John
Doe; 11Jan74 (in notice: 1973).
For renewal registrations the original date of publication and
registration number precede the name of the claimant of the renewal
registration. Following the name of the renewal claimant is a
statement in parentheses, usually abbreviated, giving the basis of the
renewal claim as supplied by the application; e.g., “John Doe (A)”
indicates that John Doe has made renewal claim as author.
Works deposited in connection with current copyright
registrations may be selected for inclusion in the collections of the
Library of Congress. Library of Congress printed cards are available
for many of the published works so selected. Orders for such cards or
inquiries concerning them should be addressed to the Card Division,
Building No. 159, Navy Yard Annex, Washington, D.C. 20541.
 Registrations January-June 1974

Class L— Domestic published motion-picture photoplays 704

Foreign published motion-picture photoplays 34
Unpublished motion-picture photoplays 11
Class M— Domestic published motion pictures other than photoplays 777
Unpublished motion pictures other than photoplays 155

Total 1,681
Renewals: Classes L and M 532

These figures represent the number of registrations for motion

pictures for January-June 1974, but do not necessarily represent the
exact number of entries in this issue of the Catalog of Copyright
Entries. Registration figures for other classes of material may be
found in the respective parts.
 Abbreviations and Symbols

The following list includes abbreviations and symbols used in this

catalog with specific copyright or bibliographic meanings.

(A) author(s)
a.a.d.o. accepted alternative designation of
a.k.a. also known as
acc. accompaniment
Adm.c.t.a. Administrator(s) cum testamento annexo
Adm.d.b.n.c.t.a. Administrator(s) de bonis non cum testamento
annexo
appl. application
approx. approximate, approximately
arr. arranged, arrangement, arranged by
Aufl. Auflage
augm. augmented
Ausg. Ausgabe
b&w black and white
Bd. Band (German)
bearb. bearbeitet
© copyright symbol
(C) child or children of the deceased author
ca. circa
chap. chapter(s)
col. colored
comp. compiler
d.b.a. doing business as
(E) executor(s) of the author
ed. edition, editor
enl. enlarged
fr. frames
ft. feet
hrsg. herausgegeben
illus. illustration(s)
m music, music by
min. minutes
mm. millimeters
(NK) next of kin of the deceased author
NM new matter
no. number(s)
nouv. nouveau, nouvelle
op. opus
p. page(s)
(PCB) proprietor of copyright in a work copyrighted by
a corporate body otherwise than as assignee or
licensee of the individual author
(PCW) proprietor of copyright in a composite work
(PPW) proprietor of copyright in a posthumous work
(PWH) proprietor of copyright in a work made for hire
prev. previous, previously