My story begins in December 1931 when Mom and Dad got married. On that day they made their way down to the Sylva courthouse, a proud building that stands tall on a small hill in the middle of town. I really don’t know how much honorable stuff went on up there on that hill, but it sure did stand there tall and proud. I would have to wait a long time before I would ever see a building as proud as that white courthouse was when it was standing tall against a clear blue sky. Not quite so grand was Bryson City’s courthouse. That is where we went after Grandma Kate had been busted for selling moonshine. I remember talking to her through the bars in the window while Dad went in to bail her out. Courthouses are funny places. They always stand there so proud and majestic, but they host many not so proud events.
I think it was fitting that not just Mom and Dad but maybe some of my other relatives were married in that