Compiled by James David & Teresa
Martin Klaiber 2020
Hubby
and I inherited the Sexton/Klaiber farm in 1996. The largest portions of the farm had been in
the family since 1885, 135 years. We
decided to build a traditional log home to honor the “mansion house” that sat
on the “widow’s portion” and was still standing (albeit badly
deteriorated). We also were building
near hubby’s childhood house that’s front was a one room log home which was, at
that point, known as the “parlor.” I wrote about the history of the log cabin in May 2015 (Click to go to early article).
I
grew up making country calls and visits to the Klaiber farm, cattle farms and
horse farms across the state because my father was a veterinarian. Farms were given names that often reflected
the personality of the owners. My own father had a dream, as a small child,
that he would name his farm Jomar. That
dream became a reality in the early 1960’s.
The explanation for that name was modified to include my mother thus
Jomar was named for John & Mary Martin.
It was a serendipitous coincidence that it was also the name of John
Ringling North’s rail car.
Mother,
a guest, and I sat rocking on the newly built porch of our log home in the
summer of 1997 as carpenters continued to work inside. We could hear the hay balers working the
field on another portion of the property.
I love hay season with the sweet smell, newly cut and the knowledge that
it will sustain animals throughout a coming winter. But the first cutting is also during spring
birthing of fawns. The deer tend to hide
their babes in the tall grass. Knowing
that, the farmers make as much noise as possible to alert mom and fawns that
they need to move into the woods. The
farmer sits high up and cannot see inside the grasses prior to mowing. The sad
side is sometimes a fawn does get maimed by a mower.
We
rocked, as we watched a man approach us on horseback with a rifle attached to
saddle and small gun holstered at hip.
He tipped his hat and said he just wanted to alert us that a small fawn
was beyond saving and we would hear a gunshot.
We thanked him for the alert and went on with our conversation though
with a sad tone. After five, FIVE, shots
my mother looked over at me wide eyed and said “Oh my goodness, just like
Deliverance”. Excited I told her I
thought it was the perfect name for our farm since coming home and back to our
Kentucky roots felt just like the definition for deliverance: the act of being set
free. Hubby was quick to concur.
We
have had a lot of fun with our beloved farm and the name Deliverance Farm. The first comment came from one of our naïve
son’s who thought he was being tactful when he asked if we were sure because
there was “a bad movie” that we might not have seen. He was naïve if he thought
his parents or grandparents had not seen that movie. We have a sign coming up
our lane by the creek that reads “Paddle faster I hear banjos”. But the truth is, that after living in
neighborhoods where houses were side by side, in other states, being back in Kentucky
and our home has set us free.
Deliverance
Farm already had distinguishing areas with names. From the view from my office window I see a forest
of trees. But when our sons were small they would race straight up the cliff
side to Madonna Rock. The cliff boulder,
hidden from view until the foliage dies back, has a huge scooped area that Aunt
Martha Klaiber Cox suggested would look nice with a large statue of Madonna
gracing it. Thus its name.
“Powder
House Holler” was named by the Klaiber’s before hubby was even born. John Landon Klaiber (1888-1939) created
Klaiber Explosives Company in the 1930’s. The company bought and sold,
wholesale and retail dynamite, powder and other high explosives as well as
making blasting supplies some of which were used for exploding in gas and oil
wells and mines[i]. A small storage building, with a steel door,
is on what is now Watt’s farm at the edge of “Powder House Holler” on
Deliverance Farm.
“Powder
House Holler” sits across the road from the “widow’s portion” (owners now
Pierzala) and the lane to the “rock quarry.”
The rock quarry was utilized during WPA days for crushed rock along the
road. But the quarry was here long
before WPA.
Courtesy of KDL Utilizing the background of the KDL picture from the WPA days we believe that this quarry picture is from the farm
The beautiful hand-hewn stone foundation and
chimney rocks of the “mansion house” were also taken out of that quarry. We
have salvaged several of the beautiful stones and utilize them on Deliverance
Farm. We also have the scales from the
scale house from the 1950’s.
Melody
Springs dubbed so by our middle son, was part of Deliverance Farm and is now
owned by the Reffit family. My son loves
to walk past “Lonesome Pine” and down to Melody Springs. Where he says he can hear the music playing
on a windy day.
Long
Branch of Garner Creek turns and comes up our lane while Solomon’s Branch
continues along Long Branch Road. The
branch meanders past our log home, the cabin, tractor shed and barn to a lovely pasture. We literally live up a holler in a holler. High
on the cliff above the creek and pasture is Skull Rock. This wonderful rock will show its face when
the foliage falls, greeting the Halloween season. I believe the spirit of the
place and Skull Rock look after us.
Deliverance
Farm is also the last earthly home of our ancestors and neighbor’s ancestors.
Klaiber Cemetery has a beautiful view of God’s country.
Continue
Past Klaiber Cemetery and up the hill for a visit to Iron Ore Ridge. Ore was dug along the ridge creating trenches
and then hauled to Sandy Furnace on Bolts Fork. I wrote about Sandy Furnace and It’s People in June 2010 (click to read that article).
Leave
the ridge and go down a steep hill of Deliverance Farm to visit Marcum Holler
(we don’t say hollow) and the rock water fall.
Joe Marcum lived in that hollow in the 1880’s and like James Matthew
Klaiber was a blacksmith[ii]. I often wonder if Klaiber, who turned 21 in
1878, learned his trade from Marcum.
The commissioners wanted to open a road between Deliverance Farm and
what is now Blanton’s farm in the early years of the county according to early
court orders. It was utilized as a haul road and probably is how the iron ore
made its way over to Bolt’s Fork. The
rock water fall is a huge rock ledge that cattle and humans alike can stand
under even when the water is flowing. It
is cool on the hottest day and the area is lush with ferns. I love it there.
Our
newest landmark is the “shootin shanty.”
Built by cousin, Greg Fannin for obvious reasons. Each year it gets a
little more elaborate. Rumor has it
someone placed a tv satellite on the roof at one point. The “shootin shanty” is the perfect place to
sit and meditate or enjoy a picnic. The vista overlooks Deliverance Farm.
I
hope you have enjoyed a tour of Deliverance Farm from then and now. What’s in a
name? Personality and love. Home. So the next time you see a farm sign see
if you can figure out how it got its name.
