Tompkinsville | Monroe County

BY CRYSTAL CUNNINGHAM “Just about everything you can say about Monroe County is wrong,” said one resident. Tompkinsville, the Monroe County seat, and the communities of Bugtussle, Persimmion, Turkey Neck Bend, Cyclone, and Mudlick, to name a few, is a full place of diversity. Monroe County is a mixture of the young and the old, […]

Bernard Pickerall is one of the six men who work on the Cumberland River ferry at Tompkinsville. The ferry does not get much traffic at night. All there is to do is sleep and wait. Bernard is quiet, but friendly, and talks to people on the ride across.

Jim Bowles, 80, lives at Rock Bridge in northern Monroe County. He leads an almost primitive life, drawing water from a well on the rear porch of his generations-old house. A part-time janitor at Joe Harrison Carter Elementary School, Bowles spends his spare time doing what he loves most – fiddling. He learned to fiddle by listening to records and attending state-wide contests. Bowles prefers his life in the country to the life of his counterparts in the city. Part of that life includes praying each night, so he can “give thanks to the Lord.”

John Graves enjoyed the slow-paced life and surroundings of the county. He believed that keeping law and order meant not being obvious but appearing when needed. He has been the police chief for five years, and had worked on the Tompkinsville police force for a few years. Since it is a small force, they work closely with the Monroe County sheriff’s department. Because he is head of such a small department, he has many responsibilities including being present at social functions such as football games.

Lama Comer, 57, leads a busy life. She works 40 hours per week, as she has for the past 29 years, making blue jeans and denim overalls at the Key Manufacturing Co. plant in Tompkinsville. She and her husband, Hazel, were married in 1940 when Lama was only 15. Together they raise Belgian horses to show and sell, and their living room is decorated with trophies and ribbons their horses have won. “These horses are what gave us a lot of friends,” Lama said. But she said they probably won’t show any more horses, although their son, Charles, might if one of the mares foals. “I wish I didn’t have to work away from home,” Lama said. “I’d like to be at home–just a regular housewife–and keep everything just the way I want it.”

Dr. James Cunningham said he came to Tompkinsville from Lexington because he wanted to raise his son in a traditional small town environment rather than in a large city. Cunningham, who had moved to Tompkinsville just two weeks before the workshop, was living in a local motel. His wife and son were still living in Lexington. Cunningham usually ate with the hospital staff before doing rounds and checking on the three or so patients he usually had. The doctors and some friends were talking in the emergency room when a mother ran into the entrance with her 9-moth-old baby in her arms. The baby had a high fever and was beginning to go into convulsions, but both mother and baby were home safely within an hour. Cunningham is on call every third night. His beeper and stethoscope remain within reach faithfully.

Carol Jordan said she didn’t mind being photographed, “if you think you can keep up with me.” Each morning, Jordan changes roles – from mother of three to that of a businesswoman. She and her husband are partners in a Tompkinsville hardware business. The family is a close one, and genuinely receptive.

For four years Jimmy Dale Pitcock has had a loyal companion accompany him on his city mail route in Tompkinsville. The postmen there know the scruffy black dog as Pebbles, but her owner, Sydney Hale, knows her real name is Puddles. When Jimmy Dale arrives at work in the morning he can always expect Pebbles to be on the back loading dock of the town’s post office, prepared to tag along for the rest of the day. Pebbles keeps Jimmy Dale on his toes by barking when he spends a little too much time at one of his stops, but usually she just waits patiently outside the door.

Ken Holbrook’s spare time is scarce. The Gamaliel High School assistant principal is also the father of two sons – and as the school’s football coach, he does everything from coordinating game plans to driving the team bus. On one Friday night, Holbrook’s family accompanied the team on a trip to Red Boiling Springs. Despite pre-game forecasts which favored the opposing team, and a losing streak that had plagued Gamaliel for two years, the Tigers won. A celebration with lots of emotion followed in the locker room. Radio interview following game.

When District Judge Jack Wood took office in January 1982, he didn’t like the shape the court system was in. He felt the bench was not respected. Wood said the community considered him “hardline.” Now, he said, “I’m considered tough… If I give you an order, follow it. That’s all I ask.” Stopping to chat in restaurants and stores was routine for Wood. “I’ve got to be out there to explain what happened in court,” he said. “As much as I dislike the politics involved, I am forced to do some image building,” he said. “Public relations is a full-time job outside of doing my judiciary stuff.”

It’s unfortunate there are people who will go through life thinking only Log Cabin or Bob White syrup belong on hot, homemade biscuits. People around Tompkinsville know better. Kermit Dubree has had a good deal to do with the culinary experience among his neighbors. He’s a sorghum maker. Not everyday now because that would be simply too much for any man. Once a year is just fine. Cutting of the cane, grinding it down and then cooking and stirring crams a week’s work into one day. Kermit, his brother, relatives and friends spread the chores, sweating more than a September day calls for with the hot fire needed to cook what starts as a green liquid. In the early afternoon rock music blares from a pick-up truck’s radio. It’s a station from nearby Tennessee that seems strangely out of place. Disruptive. As the sun moves over the sky, what once was a stalk of cane thickens and turns a rich, golden shade.

When Rev. Charles Dethrow was very young, he decided that he had something to offer: moral and spiritual guidance. His concern for his congregation extended beyond Sunday services each week. Dethrone tried to visit his parish members at home and patients at the hospital and nursing home. And he delivers a sermon on the radio each Wednesday during the summer.