Endangered Barn

When we were in Grainger County for the Tomato Festival, this barn caught my eye. Recent high winds had lifted a couple of metal roofing sheets and exposed the interior to the elements. Otherwise the barn appeared to be well-maintained. But this is what usually spells the beginning of the end for barns in the region. No longer contributing to the family's income, old barns are allowed to remain exposed to the weather. Eventually they rot and collapse. It would be a shame if this barn were left to that fate.

A tour of east Tennessee barns

The video linked here contains none of my photos, but those who have visited here before will recognize multiple themes. These are set to one of my favorite songs. It's by Melanie Cannon, who's backed by musicians from Union Station, Alison Krauss's band. I'm a big fan of Jerry Douglas, the dobro player. He does great work on this. Enjoy!

Cantilever barns

Cantilever barns apparently are found only in the southern highlands, primarily east Tennessee, but also to a lesser extent in Kentucky, West Virginia, Virginia, and North Carolina. As can be seen in the photograph, they're built on one or two log ricks or cribs, with the top layer of logs extending some eight to ten feet beyond the log base. The upper level would have been used for hay, with livestock housed in the cribs below. The overhang provided shelter from the weather for farm equipment or for livestock pastured around the barn.

Most cantilever barns were built on two log cribs with a drive or "dog-trot" between them. The drive allowed hay to be unloaded into the loft out of the elements if a rain shower had come up. Over the years, many cantilever barns had the overhangs enclosed for hanging tobacco to cure, as was my grandfather's barn in eastern Kentucky.

The origins of cantilever barns are obscure, although many think they may have derived from German prototypes. Another hypothesis considers them to be a local invention to meet the needs of farming in a humid climate and to make use of local materials in their construction. Whatever their origin, they definitely are southern Appalachian in their distribution. A survey in the 1980s found them to be most common in east Tennessee, with 289 of 316 barns located in just two counties.  I photographed three of them at the Museum of Appalachia, that I wrote about yesterday.

Muddy Pond barns

We drove over to Muddy Pond on Saturday to pick up some last-minute Christmas gifts at the Mennonite-operated general store there. They have high-quality grain products packaged in bulk and some really excellent cheeses that you simply can't get in a supermarket. Although I took a camera, I wasn't feeling very creative and it stayed in its case. I then faced the reality of needing something for the blog after I got home, so it was into the files with Muddy Pond still on my mind.

The old pole barn, above, is on the road into Muddy Pond and I don't think it sees much use any more. But I think it has character and I have shots from several angles. The next two barns are both owned by Mennonite families.

The Mazlin family's barn sits between their house and the molasses shed. In the fall you can watch them crush the sorghum cane, cook the syrup, and buy jars of still-warm molasses at the shed. The picnic table in front of their house always has containers of molasses and, in season, watermelon, cantaloupe, pumpkins, or tomatoes. There will be a jar in which you can leave payment, and make change if you need to. A knock on their door and Mrs. Mazlin may have fresh-baked bread or pastries for sale. This barn, by the way, is the one shown in the December 10, 2011, Silent Saturday posting.

This barn is on land belonging to the Schrock family. Although they are now in Africa on a three-year missionary trip, we previously bought honey and sweet corn from them. We also for several years picked our own blueberries from their field of cultivated blueberry bushes. It was always a nice summer outing, and much cheaper than buying blueberries in the store. Fred was always apologetic if the bushes had been picked over, making picking go slower. We had to explain to him that the picking and the time in the field were at least as important as the blueberries we would be taking home.