This is my recollection of the events leading up to, and of, August 1, 1946, and how I came to know about these things.
I was raised in Athens, Tennessee, from age 5 (1933), attended grammar school, high school, and Tennessee Wesleyan College, and had walked and bicycled all over the town. My Grandparents, both paternal and maternal, were well-known and respected long-time citizens. My Father, a Doctor of Chiropractic, and my Mother, an LPN, worked together in his clinic, which was about two blocks southwest of the Court House Square in Athens.
Athens, “The Friendly City,” so named by The Daily Post-Athenian, was a small, southern town surrounded by mostly farmlands. Within the city, textile mills provided jobs for available unskilled labor.
There were many businesses facing the four sides of the Court House Square, and a couple of blocks southeast was Mayfield’s Dairy, the Ice Plant, a blacksmith shop, and a coal yard.
It was a generally quiet, peaceful town where almost everyone knew everyone and their families, business, and activities. In nice weather, the “Spit and Whittle” groups met on the Court House lawn to discuss various “matters of importance.”
On Saturdays, local farmers came to town, most in horse or mule-drawn wagons, to sell produce and purchase supplies. Many items were still scarce following wartime rationing – sugar, shoes, tires, and gasoline.
Although a few families had money, most of us would have been considered poor by today’s standards, but we all were about the same, so it made little difference. There were the usual small-town secrets, gossip, rumors, and scandals – perhaps interesting, but nothing world-shattering.
Was there corruption and violence in politics, government, and police or sheriff departments? Probably, but how much and who knew about it was not openly discussed.
I do recall hearing stories of Sheriff Deputies who were reportedly brutal, maybe even sadistic. One rumored story was about a Deputy (Minnis Wilburn) who got into an argument in the infamous Half Way Court (a tourist court, restaurant, and beer joint on US 11 North of Athens) with a man who lost an ear to a broken beer bottle in the hands of the Deputy. There were stories of excessive roughness during arrests, hard liquor for a price, political favoritism, and suggestions of coercion of voters for the “ins” to stay “in.”
Sheriff Pat Mansfield and his wife and Tennessee State Representative George Woods and his wife were patients of my Dad, and they also became friends. Dad went deer, bear, and boar hunting in Tellico Mountains with Mansfield and Woods, and through them, he became acquainted and friends with Tennessee State Senator Paul Cantrell.
Senator Cantrell, Representative Woods, and Sheriff Mansfield were reputed to be the “heads” of the Democrat Political Machine in McMinn County. Dad had on occasions loaned them the use of our “cabin” on Watts Bar Lake. Their families had visited, too, so I knew them and was known to them.
Thursday, August 1, 1945, was voting day in McMinn County and the City of Athens. Sheriff Mansfield had contacted Dad saying he had suspicions of some “trouble brewing” and asked that we take his young daughter with us on our usual Thursday afternoon trip to our cabin.
In the late afternoon, Dad listened to the car radio and learned there had been shots fired at the Athens City Water Works Office/Fire Hall voting precinct and that Sheriff Deputies had taken ballot boxes to the Athens Court House.
Dad decided we should go back to Athens, and on the way, we heard the radio report that a large group of “citizens and returned veterans” had “stormed” the Court House, and the Sheriff, Deputies, and others had fled to the County Jail. The Jail was located two blocks north of the Court House on the West side of North White Street.
We arrived back in Athens about dusk. Dad telephoned Mrs. Mansfield and arranged to return her daughter. Our radio reported that the National Guard Armory had been broken into, and rifles and ammunition were being distributed for a siege on the Jail. It was now night, and we could hear gunfire.
Having just turned eighteen, with promises to stay out of danger, my parents reluctantly allowed me to walk across Court House Square and up North Jackson Street (which is one block East of the Jail on North White Street) to find out what was happening. Hornsby Street crosses here and goes West alongside the Southside of the Jail.
Ahead on the West side of North Jackson Street was a small Office Supplies Store, then the US Post Office. The land sloped steeply down and was covered with thick brush behind these buildings facing the Jail.
I could hear gunfire from that slope, also gunfire from the Jail. Also, I heard what sounded like automatic machine-gun fire from atop a department store building at this Northeast corner of Jackson and Hornsby Streets. I have heard conflicting accounts about a thirty caliber water-cooled machine gun being taken from the Armory and set up on that building. I walked back home, only four blocks, to report and then back here several times during the night.
We heard reports that the telephone calls for support and rescue, made from the Jail to neighboring counties, could not succeed because roadblocks had been set up, and no one could come into or go out of McMinn County that night.
As the gunfire continued sporadically throughout the night, I didn’t see anyone I recognized at first, but then I began to see boys come from the brushy slope with rifles and turn them over to others.
Several of them were young boys, too young to be veterans, who came to the Saturday morning cowboy movies at the Strand.
I heard someone say that they had obtained dynamite from a local hardware store, and I saw a sailor I recognized (Bill White, he appeared drunk) lift his Navy blouse and stick several sticks of dynamite in the waist and then go into the brushy slope. A short time later, tossed dynamite exploded in the street in front of the Jail. More dynamite hit the Jail wall, which fell back and exploded beneath the jail porch. The night was just turning into the morning. The explosions and earlier injuries brought “surrender” from the Jail.
I heard later that a single rifle shot had injured one man’s hand, the arm of another, and the jaw of a third (Marvin Farris, who was the warden of a prison camp ). When they were injured, all telephone calls for help were refused. Sheriff Mansfield telephoned my Dad, and he was allowed to go in the back door and administer first aid treatment.
All the Jail occupants were brought out into the Jail yard, and a large crowd quickly gathered. The Jail occupants were led single file down the street toward the Court House with shouts of “Hang ’em from the Court House trees!”
Someone from the crowd jumped on one of the Deputies (Minnis Wilburn), and some said he was not harmed, but others said his throat was cut. Amidst all the crowd confusion, I saw Senator Cantrell slipping away toward Hornsby Street and heard a friend (Joe Shugart) say to his Dad, “There goes Cantrell!” His Dad said, “No, Let him go!”
I believe Senator Cantrell hid in one of several buildings behind the Post-Athenian building until he could get away.
I have never heard this event reported in any account: Bernie Hampton, Pastor of Keith Memorial Methodist Church, climbed up on the hood of a car in front of the Jail, shouted for attention, and spoke, “Boys, you have done what you came here to do. Now stop and not make this worse!”. The gathered crowd must have listened because they returned the former Jail occupants to the Jail and locked them there. Reverend Hampton certainly deserved credit for stopping more harm and possible hangings.
Later that day, the roadblocks were removed, and Athens was flooded with reporters, State Police, and soldiers (probably National Guard from other counties).
So ended the so-called Battle of Athens.
There have been suggestions that Athens regained its honor, that justice prevailed, and that corruption was over.
The new Sheriff Buttram was a veteran and a Republican. One of his Deputies, the sailor who tossed the dynamite, reportedly became very aggressive. The next Sheriff after Buttram was a Republican. Both the State Representative and Senator were replaced by Republicans. Were the “ins” the Democrat Political Machine replaced by the then “outs” to become the Republican Political Machine?
By the way, my family voted as Democrats at that time. We reconsidered voting as Republicans when Ronald Reagan became President.
Was honor regained, did justice become prevalent, and did corruption end? For how long did that last? Have you read the startling “Tragedy in Tin Can Holler” by Rozetta Mowery?
Donald Janeway Jr.
