by Kevin G. Pipes, Dandridge, Tennessee
July 2016 Central States Archaeological Journal
Each night, I enjoy reading before sleep. I had just finished the latest Star Wars book and was still not quite ready for “lights out.” Scanning the stack of journals on my night stand, I decided to revisit the Central States Archaeological Journal, October, 2015 (Volume 62, #4).
I love this issue because it is full of great relics and interesting articles. One of those articles, “George D. Barnes, Sr. & Jr.: Relic Hunters of the 1900’s,” brought to mind a certain artifact from my own collection. It is a particularly nice discoidal which is labeled “George Barnes.” Unlike many of his relics, this labeling is not handwritten but is one of those plastic, embossed labels, so popular in the ’60s and ’70s.
Now, on to “The Other Story.” I acquired this discoidal in the early 2000’s from the collection of James Helms, who was the nephew of a World War I collector by the name of Hal Noe. Previously, I met Hal in the early 1980s after seeing his photo and collection in the Who’s Who in Indian Relics No. 4. I called him up and had a fantastic relic discussion that ended with Hal inviting me to visit his home and view his collection. During that first visit, the conversation eventually turned to George D. Barnes. I had often heard of Mr. Barnes while working summer jobs in the mid-1960s in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. Many people there remembered the “Barnes Cherokee Indian Museum.”
One of the discoidals in Hal’s collection bore the aforementioned name label of “George Barnes.” I asked Hal if it came from the museum. “No,” he said, “I bought it directly from George and it came with a very interesting tale.”
Hal related to me how Mr. Barnes first saw the discoidal on a farmer’s porch in Pigeon Forge being used to prop open his screen door. George was there asking permission of the farmer to look for relics in his field. The farm was located in the Pigeon River Valley on the fertile field in front of the farmer’s house stretched out to meet the river’s edge. It was there, the farmer had originally unearthed the discoidal while plowing his land with a team of mules.
When George asked to buy the disc, the farmer refused, as it “had a good use.” Several trips to the site of the farmer’s porch still resulted in the same result of “No thanks.” But George Barnes was quite a clever man and sensed that asking to pay for the disc might be giving the farmer the impression that it was valuable and one-of-a-kind. He hatched a plan and enlisted the help of the young nephew of a friend, a lad of about 12 or 13.
They traveled to Pigeon Forge from Gatlinburg, and George parked his car a short distance from the farmer’s house. He knew the farmer chose this time of day to sit on his porch and watch the river flow by. Handing the boy a “toe sack” (burlap bag) in which he had placed seven or eight discoidals of similar size, George instructed, “Wade into the river’s edge and walk downstream in front of the house. When you’re certain he’s watching you, stoop down and take up a rock similar in size to the discs. Act like you’re putting it in the toe sack, then move forward and do it again. When you’re finished, ease out of the river and go up and talk to the man sitting on his porch.”
“Don’t tell him what you’re looking for,” Barnes continued, “let him ask. Tell the farmer you like rocks and often wade the river looking for pretty ones. Then show him what’s in your toe sack, and comment on the disc laying on his porch. Pick it up and admire it and tell him how much you would like to have one like that for your collection. If he gives it to you, I’ll give you five dollars for it.”
Hal’s story ended here, with the affirmation that George Barnes, Sr. and his young accomplice were successful in obtaining the discoidal. Much later, Hal purchased the relic from Barnes, needless to say, at a much higher price!
Artifact hunting always seems to come full circle, and I was privileged to hunt the same field where Barnes first met his farmer. I found several nice game stones, points, and several incised Mississippian pottery shards. The site was later destroyed when the city of Pigeon Forge built their wastewater plant, which “stinks” in more ways than one!
I stayed in touch with Hal Noe and, although I tried, I was never able to persuade him to sell me the discoidal in this story. After Hal’s passing in 1989, I met his nephew, James Helms, who inherited Hal’s collection. When James passed away, I enjoyed visiting his widow, Ann. She made the best ice tea, and we would sit and visit and talk about old times, sharing stories of Hal and James. Twenty years or so after listening to Hal relate “The Other Story,” Ann Helms sold me the discoidal and some other fine relics from Hal’s collection.
If only relics could talk! The stories they could tell — from their origins, to the many hands they pass through. The very discoidal in this tale could have been used in “Chunkey Superbowl 50!”