Adventures in a Knox County outpost: Greersville

GREER — It’ll be no secret to regular readers of this column that I like quirky stories in out-of-the-way places.

Let’s face it, human society is geared to carrying along the biggest news from the most central locations, and smaller stories tend to get lost.

Those odd little stories, though, are often some of the most interesting.

I thought this week I’d gather a handful of adventures from one of Knox County’s most peripheral outposts, the village of Greer, sitting near the Coshocton County line in some of the most ruggedly Appalachian hills of the area, in Jefferson Township.

Polite and boring people aren’t going to hang around a place like that, and a quick dive into historical sources proves they haven’t.

I have mentioned before in these pages my long-time friend David Greer.

A farmer, retired teacher, and volunteer with the Knox County Agriculture Museum, David is descended from the original Greer who settled in Jefferson Township.

That was George Greer, Jr., born in Antrim in what is now Northern Ireland in 1788. He and his wife Sarah Belle Shaw had several children before they headed to the U.S. in 1818, later to be followed by his parents to Belmont County, Ohio.

While George Sr. stayed in Belmont, Junior moved on to Knox County and settled a community in the lovely but wild hills near the eastern end of the county, along the Mohican River.

The sketchy information online says that Sarah Belle Greer is buried in the Greer Family Cemetery in the village.

One would presume that George is buried there, too, though the online listing didn’t show him.

I came across this information when I found a death notice in an 1885 Ohio newspaper for George’s daughter, Phoebe, who later married a Coulter, another prominent early family in this region, which included lines that led to the writer Louis Bromfield.

Phoebe was buried in Galion, where one of her surviving sons lived.

Having found an interesting thread, I continued searching for small but compelling stories from the community known as Greersville (or sometimes Greerville) in those days.

While complete stories were scarce, I found some intriguing hints about local goings-on.

July 27, 1886

The Coshocton Tribune runs a tiny neighborhood news comment that promises high adventure, without delivering any detail:

“Greersville, Knox county, is said to be the rendezvous of a gang of masked thieves, who have been committing depredations in that county.”

Wow, what an intriguing tease! And then … nothing.

I can’t help but wonder if said gang has anything to do with the gang of bandits said to be plaguing southeastern Richland County and southern Ashland County around that same time.

The distance between the areas is only a few miles as the crow flies, though for horse-riding thieves in the 1880s, the road distances would be greater.

Still, it seems close enough to remain a possibility.

The Richland/Ashland gang was eventually shut down by the county officials, though it took years, according to legend because the sheriffs were in on the crime ring.

Aug. 14, 1889

Numerous newspapers throughout the state share a story spread from Mount Vernon by the then-new telegraph wire services: “Cowardly Woman-Whippers Routed.”

“A lot of young men of Greersville, this county, made an attempt last night to whip a widow named Stambaugh, a la the White Cap method.

“But just as they got possession of the widow’s person her son appeared on the scene with a double-barreled shotgun and put them to flight.

“Arrests will be made as soon as the necessary evidence can be secured. The offense charged against the widow is not known.”

Wow! Now that, surely, is a story that cries for follow-up. And … once again, nothing.

The weakness of the news media has always been short attention spans.

If any arrests were later made, I was unable to find anything more about the case, or why these young men had it in for the Widow Stambaugh.

I was also unable to find out anything about the “White Cap method.”

Today, that phrase refers to a nautical process for calculating sea-wave turbulence, and other than a few rough patches on the Mohican, I don’t think it applies here.

I have a nasty feeling that the phrase in 1889 might have been a reference to the violence of a certain secret society of people who dressed in white robes and caps.

Feb. 9, 1892

The Daily Sentinel Tribune in Bowling Green, Ohio, carries a story datelined Millersburg.

“George Chaboudy, a young man, was driving along the river near Greersville and the bank caved in. Wagon, horses and driver were precipitated into the deep current.

“The horses swam ashore, but the young man was drowned. The body has not yet been found.”

In fact, I don’t know if the poor young man’s body was ever found, because no later references appeared.

March 16, 1895

This story is perhaps my favorite of the lot, for it shows some fiery temper.

“Assaulted With Rotten Eggs. Greersville, March 16. – Rev. Jones, of Killbuck, who has been holding a revival meeting at Brinkhaven, was assaulted with rotten eggs Wednesday night.

“The attack was made during services and nearly precipitated a riot. Numerous arrests are threatened.”

Well, the arrests may have been threatened, but I don’t think any were actually made. I just want to know why the preacher was egged.

Just a prank? Or a commentary on his views?

Perhaps David Greer can can tell us if things in that neighborhood have since settled down!