The Dream, The Challenge, The People
by Bob Kranich
(Excerpt 27)
“The Lodge Called Folkestone”. You may wonder why the first half of the book is about my many adventures throughout the USA. Well, this first part explains just why my interests changed from hot rodding cars to backpacking. How the idea of a lodge came about, and just how the lodge came to be in North Carolina and next to the Smoky Mountain National Park, Deep Campground to be exact.
Following are our experiences and adventures over the next five months, in some sort of order as they happened living in Deep Creek Valley, Bryson City, North Carolina.
“Oh, hi Doc.”
“Bob, I was a wondering if’n you would like to help me make molasses for the park?” Doc asked.
“I sure would, Doc. What do I need to do?”
Doc replied, “It’ll be this Saturday, up at the Farmstead Museum, above Cherokee. Just wear some work clothes, because it can be a mite dirty.”
“What time will we head up there, Doc?”
“They open up about nine. We should get up there around eight to get the fire a-go’n. How about seven in the mor’n, sharp?”
“Ok, Doc, see you then, this Saturday.”
It seems that Doc had a job with the national park, just like Harold Jenkins. They used a lot of locals. When we got to the Farmstead, the first thing Doc and I did was to start a fire in this huge fireplace. We also tidied up the area. Doc was particular about things.
About that time, an old mountain farmer appeared leading a horse. He hooked him up to a big log arm out in the center of the field. Doc told me that the horse walked around in a circle, pulling on this log, which turned a cane mill. While the horse was going around, the farmer would put the sorghum cane into the cane mill, and it would squeeze the liquid out of the cane. Then, we would take the juice and strain it by pouring it through this burlap type cloth into our bucket. Finally, we would boil it in the huge flat rectangular pan that was laying on top of our fire pit. After some time of boiling, the water would evaporate out of the juice, and it would thicken, leaving molasses.
One thing I found out years later. Both the National Park Service and a postcard company took photos of Doc and me making the molasses. They made a postcard of it, and put it in a park magazine published by a magazine company. It was distributed in the Smokies by the Gatlinburg Chamber of Commerce. The postcard and a slide were sold in the national park gift shops, in local tourist shops, and who knows where else. Just think, Doc and I may still be together on a postcard being sold somewhere, and it’s been almost fifty years!
One day I got a call from my good Army buddy and friend, Ed Clement. It seems that Ed had gotten married.
“Hello, Bob Kranich here.”
“Hey Bob, this is Ed Clement.”
“Oh, hi Ed.”
“Bob, what I’m calling you about is that my wife and I are going to go on a three-month trip to England, Wales, and Scotland. We are going to visit her parents and also tour. Of course, you probably figured out that she is English. Would you two like to go with us?”
“It sounds interesting, Ed. I’ll talk to Irene and get back to you.”
“Tell you what, Bob. I will send the brochure on the special airline, three month tour. It is kind of a no-frills flight. They get you there, and then three months later, they pick you up and bring you back.”
We decided to take a look at the brochure, and then make a decision. Ed’s brochure arrived, and we reviewed it. It looked promising, and we decided to go. I called Ed to confirm. I can’t remember the details, but the flight wasn’t very expensive. Ed was correct. According to the brochure, it would definitely be a no-frills flight.
Before we left Al’s house, we had the idea to send out some resumes to see if I could find any contract work. I put a cover letter together, and sent out my resume to some of the national contract companies. It didn’t take long, and I got a call a couple of days later. A company wanted me to work for Kodak up in Rochester, New York. This was the same city I had worked in on my first contract job. It was after I had got out of the Army. I thought, here I go again, winter was coming on, just like the last time I worked up there. It’s going to be cold, but maybe this time I wouldn’t get laid off for Christmas.
Our time was up. Irene and I had to clean up, pack up, and leave the Smokies to get up to Rochester, New York. It was October of 1973, and we would not be back to the Smokies until the summer of 1976.
From the Author:
This is a new book. It is about the Lodge I built in the Smoky Mountains, near Bryson City, and Deep Creek campground, North Carolina. Having been from Florida, I know that a lot of Floridians love to visit the Smoky Mountains National Park. Therefore hopefully you will enjoy my story of the building of “A Lodge Called Folkestone”.
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