(Ed. Note: Today’s article is by contributing writer Matt Hollingsworth.)
I don’t believe in ghosts, but I must admit this one is quite entertaining. I’m listening to the spirit of Thomas O’Connor (1836-1882) played gleefully by Lee McCord, and he’s been the highlight of the trip so far. An engaging storyteller, McCord really gets into character as he tells us about O’Connor from his humble origins, his rise to becoming the wealthiest person in Knoxville, and ultimately, his feud with his archrivals, the Mabry’s.
The feud culminated in a “duel” where O’Connor shot one of his enemies from a hiding spot in a dark alcove. (He was only there to keep his hand dry from the rain, he insists.) Right after the “honorable” killing, O’Connor was shot by his victim’s son who was then quickly dispatched by the gunman O’Connor had hidden in the dark alcove. (He was only around to make sure things were fair, he insists.) They were buried at the same cemetery on the same day, but O’Connor brags that he got the bigger headstone.
It’s a mild and bright Sunday afternoon at the Old Grey Cemetery in Knoxville. I’m at the Spirits of the Old Gray Tour event where hundreds of guests listen to the stories of older generations of Knoxvillians. The historical figures are played by a dozen actors in period clothing scattered throughout the cemetery, standing by the graves of their namesakes in Old Gray Cemetery. Crowds gather around each one to learn about their life and death.
One woman — Polly Crush McClanahan (1798-1868) played by Kathryn Atkins-Roberson — is a tavern keeper in a Victorian-inspired dress with a hoop skirt. She explains how her “no good husband” ran off with another woman, leaving her “high and dry.” Desperate to provide for her three kids, she started working at a tavern. Eventually she saved enough to buy her own tavern.
Unfortunately, due to the less-than-stellar property laws for women at the time and the fact that she’s still legally married to her run-away husband, Polly must list her 21-month-old son as the owner of the property. She was so successful that soon her husband decided he wanted a share. He crawled out of the woodwork to take Polly to court for living with her bouncer — a professional gambler — who “made a career out of having absolutely nothin’.” (Apparently Polly didn’t have the best taste in men.) They got off with a two-dollar fine, but Polly had trouble with both men for years.
After her, I met former slave, Edy Minor, who bought her freedom with money she earned selling baked goods. Unfortunately, she had to fight for her freedom for the rest of her life. Elsewhere, a former Union soldier explains how he became a millionaire only to lose everything and die nearly penniless. Fortunately, his daughter became a popular author who wrote about Knoxville. As he speaks, someone in the distance plays the Star Wars theme on bagpipes.
Near the front of the cemetery, a woman in a red dress with a microphone and speaker stands by a broken headstone. Unlike the others, Laura Still (Knoxville Walking Tours) isn’t playing a character but rather leading a group throughout the cemetery, telling the stories of many different people along the way. The first man she discusses was killed in a fight with a prostitute. Based on some details she gives about his life, I’m not too sad that his headstone has broken off. At another grave, she tells the sad story of a woman who was murdered in an argument with her own son who hit her in the head with a piece of a cradle. The son was so drunk that he didn’t even remember hitting her. Ironically, the style of headstone marking her resting place is known as a cradle grave.
The crowd follows the speaker along the paths past hundreds of graves of different styles—almost no two match. Some are covered in moss, others are clearly damaged, a few tilted or even fallen. It’s good to remember that every single one of those was a person with a life just as important and just as valuable as yours or mine. Eventually, the crowd reaches the grave of Anna Catherine Wiley, one of Knoxville’s most famous artists. Hers is another tragic story. After the deaths of her parents and the man rumored to be her lover, Wiley suffered a nervous breakdown and was institutionalized for 30 years, the rest of her life, and was never allowed any painting materials.
Barbeque is offered from one of several food trucks, while wine is offered in a nearby tent. as my tour resumes, I find a young girl and her mother—Caty and Sarah Morgan played by Hattie Perry and Cheri VanBynen — who argue as to whether Caty’s father/Sarah’s husband was responsible for the severity Great Fire of 1897. (Apparently, he couldn’t find the keys to the fire engine in time.) Afterwards, he helped improve the firefighting technology in Knoxville. Nearby, Caty’s childhood friend, Pleasant McClung, details how he lost so many members of his family at a young age. Finally, I meet a 16-year-old boy who talks about his death in a box factory after his family was ruined by the Mabry/O’Connor feud.
As I leave, I wonder if someday an actor will stand at my grave telling of my life. Maybe I’ll still be remembered a century after my death, or maybe I’ll be forgotten, but either way, I’ll be okay. Still, it was fascinating to have a small window opened to the twists and turns of Knoxville’s past.