Newspaper Archive of
Bath County News - Outlook
Owingsville, Kentucky
February 4, 2021     Bath County News - Outlook
PAGE 7     (7 of 12 available)        PREVIOUS     NEXT      Full Size Image
PAGE 7     (7 of 12 available)        PREVIOUS     NEXT      Full Size Image
February 4, 2021

Newspaper Archive of Bath County News - Outlook produced by SmallTownPapers, Inc.
Website © 2022. All content copyrighted. Copyright Information.     Terms Of Use.     Request Content Removal.

Z-‘i’s’é’da‘u‘wEinV " "‘ - .j-r..=r-r=~=. x: *6. 5.5% 14' flew 4F éfi’fifl'fi'a“. is.” .fxe’ $19.13*.»Va‘? WEI???" “e a“ J‘s?) ' at ’ a” .14" News Outlook February 04, 2021 - 7 OPINION The opinion page does not reflect the vievlrs of the KyNewsGroup. Heaven Is A Lot Like Kentucky By Charles Mattox When James Beath carried Michael Cassidy back into John Strode’s Station that cool autumn day in 1784, none of the hardened members of the frontier fort thought he would live through the night. But he did. , Beath was one of the hardiest of the three- dozen or so men that fre- quently stayed at the sta- tion. He was a passionate family man who had final- ly regained his freedom after being a Shawnee prisoner for three years. He was daring and cou— rageous, but had been scared out of his wits when Cassidy had stum- bled out of the woods covered in blood after a surveying trip with Math- ias Spahr and Joshua Bennett had gone disas- trously wrong. Beath’s dogs were even scared of the hid- eous sight and Beath was not sure if he was looking at a human or some sort of mangled creature. “The Indians killed Bennett and Spahr,” Cassidy had grunted as he fell unconscious into Beath’s arms. Later, after Beath car- MICHAEL’S MIRACLE ‘ ried Cassidy back to Capt. John Strode’s Sta- tion, Beath and the two Clinkenbeard brothers: Lazy Bill and Isaac, had joined James McIntyre, John Constant, Thomas Jones, John Fleming and others, who backtracked Cassidy until they found the bodies of Bennett and Spahr near the present- day community of Plum. They buried what was left of the two men'and returned to Strode’s Sta- tion, _near the present town of Winchester. The next dawn all were surprised that Cassidy was still breathing, he had after all fought five Shawnee warriors and managed to escape. They began the death vigil that day. Mrs. .Lucy Donald- son Fleming tended the wounds of the young Irishman. She had re- married John Fleming in 1782, one year after her husband and one of Fleming’s best friends, Patrick Donaldson, had been killed by Shawnee warriors during an attack on Strode’s Station. As an afterthought, so he would be presentable for the wake and burial, Lucy Fleming stitched up all of Cassidy’s wounds that crossed and criss- crossed his face. His ja_w was horribly broke and his face was mangled from repeated blows of a war club. He had three broken ribs, a fractured skull and he’d lost nearly all of his blood. And yet, he would not die. After a week he re— gained consciousness. After two weeks he be- gan slurping some soup and broth along with his water and medicinal tea. As Christmas neared he took his first steps and his jaw had healed enough to where he could almost be under- stood when he spoke; that thick Irish accent sounding even more primitive now that his tongue barely worked and his jaw was still somewhat mangled. All agreed it was a mir- acle that-Michael Cassidy was alive. Cassidy had saved Fleming during the 1782 battle of the Upper Licks and during Cassidy’s long weeks of healing, as 1784 merged into 1785 and the dead of winter embraced them all, Flem- ing and his wife Lucy, along with Lucy’s six children, tended to Cas- sidy’s every need. Flem— ing spent many hours at his friend’s bedside play- ing his fiddle and sharing whiskey with Michael, a past time both heartily enjoyed. They knew he had saved them all in the past. What they had no way of knowing was that in the years to come, as the lands that would one day be known as Bath, Nicho- las, Fleming, Robertson and Mason counties were surveyed and explored, it would be Cassidy that would help them survive ' again and again. Michael’s miracle 'would ultimately be the direct or indirect salva- tion of them all. If the Good Lord is willing, we may examine some of those instances in future columns By Cecil Lawson It’s taken me nearly a half century to realize that good enough is good enough. I’m not sure at what point in my childhood I got into the mindset of becoming a perfectionist, but it had to be very early in school. I was a good student and, except for math, got high grades throughout most of my grade school years. Even though most math classes were a challenge, I worked hard and 'got decent grades in them, as well. I had the privilege of be- ing selected to attend the THE DAY I BECAME GOOD ENOUGH Governor’s Scholars pro- gram the summer before my senior year in high school. I think it was there that I began to realize just how much more educated , and well-read some other kids my own age were and how much more sophisti- cated they seemed. What I didn’t realize then was how big ofa difference social class made when it came to those things. I think it was then that I began pushing myself more. I started making lists and lists of books to read, something I still do today. This anxiety grew when I attended college at More- head State. I had scholar- ships, and I had to keep up my grades. I ran aground my freshman year on the beach of calculus and college-level chemistry, and I realized that I had to change my major to some- thing that didn’t involve complex math. I had al- ready discovered the field of political science at Gov- ernor’s Scholars, loved it, and dove right inthe Gov- ernment program at MSU. I read and read and kept realizing how much more there is to know. And the list-making continued. The same thing contin— ued in my first crack at graduate school. I encoun— tered the same situation again — well-read fellow students who spoke well and who had a wealth of knowledge seemingly at their fingertips. I got my master’s degree, but I nev- er seemed to know enough to satisfy myself. In my second round of graduate school I packed up a half a U-Haul load of books to move to Mas— sachusetts, and they took up most of one of my tiny apartment’s walls. It was more the same there as well, and it seemed like owning books, reading, and having access to the latest publications was an out-of-control arms race. I’m pretty sure I had crossed some line and was over the brink of madness at that point. I pushed myself, took too many classes, fretted over my grades, and continued to feel that I just didn’t know enough. Flash forward another ten years, and I started to work at the newspaper. I had a weekly deadline, and in my desire to give my readers the full story, I found myself staying up on Monday and Tuesday evenings to write the most complete articles I could produce. 1 was getting old- er, and I was noticing that it was taking me longer and longer“ to recovery from those late nights. There is a lot of pressure to get the story right the first time, and there is a lot of pressure to get it done on Me. I also do a lot of research for background and to be able to ask good questions. One day, not too long ago, it hit me that there were only so many hours in the day, and more and more of them‘were devot- ed to work, or to recover- ing from work. v I enjoy writing, to be sure, but when it becomes ‘a chore, something you have to do, it loses its ap- peal. And if your heart isn’t in it, the reader knows. Over the past couple of years, I’ve been trying — trying — to dial things back. What I have discovered, and keep continuing to dis- covery every day, several times a day, is that I am my own worst critic, and my own peanut gallery. I have pushed myself too much, in the false belief that I needed to always be better and better. People have told me this for years, but I never lis- tened, until the feedback got so loud in my own head, that I had to let up. It’s been like trying to turn the proverbial battle- ship around, or trying to stop a semi-truck or train — it’s going to take some time. I don’t have to be per- fect Nobody does. Most of the time, good enough is just good enough. And I’m learning to‘ be just fine with that. . Bath CDIIIIW PWIIBI'W Transfers , Jan. 22 — 26, 2020 Melanie Dawn Erwin and Chris Erwin and Amy Ellen Swartz and Neil Cameron Swartz to‘Amy Ellen Swartz and Neil Cameron Swartz, tract on Ponda Rosa Sub-division, Owingsville . ’ Jesse T. Hall Estate, by Wanalene Hall McKin- ney and Steve Hall, Co- Executors, to Susanna H. Schwartz and Joseph A. Schwartz, tract on East Union Road Misty Bashford and ' Shaun Bashford to Brian Chapman, tract on Hwy 36, gay“ tfiwmm wtaw weave: straw iavaefi gamma am Earmame mug/“a; Thank you km mu?" frmratiimm Wflrkmra f??me gait or}? was sat flrioe-In Q05pel5inging - February 13, 2021 at 6:00 pm; Stay in your can and listen to 103.9 FM ' The Crown, Quartet “formally the Master’s Trio” at Slate Valley Christian Church near Olympia Brunet Land Co, Inc. to Shanti Dyali, Parbat Rai, Manoj Nepal, and Diya Up- reti, Lot. No. 48 of Bruner — Green Meadow Road Subdivision ' Jaroslava Wells to Dan Edward Wells, property on Ealy Road Harold Bashford to Bath County Fiscal Court, prop- erty on Main Street, Ow- ingsville Clinton G. Tabor and Megan J. Tabor, to Sandra Wright, Being Lot No. 1 in Heartland Subdivision, Unit 1 Linda Gail Shrout to Coleman C. Blevins, tracts at Polksville on Kannon Drive ’ , William 0. Gray, Jr., Party of the First Part, Su- zanne’C. Dalton and Ron— ald E. Dalton, Second Par- SUBSCRIBETODAY! CALL 606-674-9994 ' '96 ‘m The Bath County Outlook is th oldest business that is still operating today! ties, and William Codey Burke and Nichole Burke, Third Parties, tract on west side of East Fork Road Beulah Purvis to Randy Ike Purvis and Mitchell D. Purvis, tract on Sour Springs Road Serving Bath Countains since 1884! Bringing you all of your HOMETOWN NEWS! Call today to subscribe, place your ad or have a news tip; at 606-674-9994. *