Document text
February 16, 1939.
J. D. lashburn (white)
11 Southside Ave.,
Asheville, N. C.
Owner of tire shop
Douglas Carter, writer
Orizinal Names
J. D. 14ashburn
4.4
EX -SOLDIER
Chanaed Names
Don Washburn
EX -SOLDIER
"Ve didn't like being sent to a war that was already
over, but there was nothing we could do about it we
had to o. ome of the boys talked recklessly about
deserting, but nobody tried it. We were really mad, though,
when we learned that what tney called fighting units had
been taken off the ships and mustered out while we were
on our way to France.
"Our outfit had been set to Camp Lills, Long Island,
to wait for 6ailing orders, and we were there when the
false alarm c3me about the end of the war. Lo one was
allowed any leave, and suddenly on the nignt of November
10, 1918, we were ordered to Hoboken, N. J., and we em-
barked immediately on the Adriatic. Before daylight we
heard a rumor that the sailing had been postponed, or
cancelled, and then we heard about the Armistice. We
didn't pay much attention at first, because it had only
been a few days since the 'false armistice', and ,e
weren't goinc to be sucked in again. You can bet we
were ticKled, though, when it finally seeweL that this
one was the real thine„A e could just see ourselves
going homes But after a day at tne dock that do you
suppose? they sent us to France e were a disgusted
bunch, goirk, over. Took us 14 days to react, Liverpool
we had a full convoy."
Don ',asnburn is talking. He operates a tire snop here,
and is n ardent American Legionnaire. He was born in an
adjoining mountain county on June 29, 1893, the first of
four children. The other three were girls. -is ancestors
had emigrated from England and 3cotland and settled there
in the early part of the 18th century. They were all
farmers, and Lon's early life was spent on a small farm.
He attended the country school, and later a denominational
juAor college in the mountains. He left school, however,
and went to Colorado "to seek his fortune." He had an
aunt there, and an uncle, ana lived for a time with the
former. He tried everything possible, including mining,
ranching, and clerking. He was never long in one place.
"For 10 years, from 1912 to 1921, I was in a different
State on New Year's Day, except 1919, when I was in France."
He was about to decide on mining as a career when he was
drafted. It was July 5, 1918, when he entered the :,rmy,
and he was first sent to Fort Oglethorpe, Ga. Having
been placed in a medical unit, he was transferred to
the hospital at Camp McClellan, Anniston, 4',1a.
"It was called a 1,200 -bed hospital, but during the
flu epidemic we had more than 4,000 patients, on an average.
worked like dots from about seven in the morning until
the last patient of the day had been checked in or out
usually about 10 o'clock that night. The men died like
flies, and several times we ran out of boxes to bury them
in, and had to put their bodies in cold storage until more
boxes were shipped. in. It was horrible."
"Did you Let the flu?"
"No. ihey sprayed us two or three times a day with
somethiiv, and very few of us in the iiospital unit got sick."
After about three months in ,,labama, the unit was sent
ew York, en route to France. Having arrived in Liver-
pool, the company went to an overnight camp near Birmingham.
"We were already sore at. tne whole world, and when we
reached the tents assigned us, there weren't even any cots
to sleep on. v,e had to roll up in our blankets on the
ground."
"Don, the boys in the trenches had a tough time, too,"
said.
He replied, emphatically, "But tne blasted war was over,
and had been for two weeks. ke should have been in the
States! The next night, at Le Havre, France, it was the
same tA44:: no beds, no cots. :ind the next four days and
nights we spent in those half-pint freight cars that are
sup:.:osed to be big enough for eight horses or 40 men. At
the end of four days we were only about 200 ;Ales from
Le Havre. Finally, though, we got off of the train, and
my squad was quartered in a barn loft, full of hay. We
were fairly comfortable tnere, although we had no stove.
There was no coal or wood to burn, anyhow; but the Army
furnished us with plenty of clean straw and hay, and when
we got too cold we could crowd into one of the small cafes
in the town, which was close by.
""Ach house there had a pile of manure in the front yard,
and a man's standing in the community depended on how big
his pile was. The mayor had the largest pile.
"For Liany week we had nothing to do but play cards and
try to keep warm. They had us drill a few times, though.
By that time my outfit was known as Evacuation Hospital
Company No. 32. Then one day we li.ere ordered out in full
equipment, and all sorts of rumors flew around: we were
going home; we were going to Germany; we were going to
Paris; we were going here, ani there, and everywhere.
Actually, however, we marched about half a wiile to Base
Hospital No. 13, to relieve an outfit that had been ordered
back to the States! We had real beds and better food, then,
and co.:Jd keep war.ai without half trying. Best of all, we
had work to do, and time began to pass faster or so it
"spring came, and then summer, and in no ti_qe at all we
were back in New York. Still a private, I got my h=orable
dischar,e at Camp Lee, Va., on July 26, 1919, and went
straight home. I hadn't seen iii folks for years I was in
the -est waen I went in the rmy, and hadn't been home since
I left for Colorado. It was sure good to be back in these
mountains again. 44 father had done well, too, and had
money in the bank.
"Since I was a boy I had always wanted a business of my
own, and once in Colora,„.o I had a small refreshment stand,
but it didn't pay, and I lost it. When I got back from
the :Army I looked around for something, and worked for a
short while in the tannery near home, but I waited to get
into a business that I could own someday. I didn't find
anything around nere, however, so I headed fol the West
again. I made some money in Kansas, shucking corn, and saved
most of it there wasn't anywhere to spend it. e worked
six full days a week, ana L:ot $5 a day besides our room,
board, ana laundry. The only expense was clothes: we wore
out two pairs of canvas gloves a day, and one pair of over-
alls a week. They didn't cost .liach, though, aria I got quite
a bit ahead. We would go to the little town every :"aturday
night, but they uidn't have any amusements here, and we
usually went back to the fare. after an hour or so.
"Tiee winter I heard about the e-ooa wages bein, paid in
ekron, 3nie, at the rubber plants, and I 6ot job at one
of the lerLeet factories there. I a,plied one day and went
to work the next elorning, at $1 an hour. Ye worked 10 hours
in my eepartment. Later, after ereving to another department,
I got el.J0 an nour, and 1,ut in ei„ht hours a day.
"I learned the tire b einees fro.11 one end to the other,
and ouvee all tne mcney I could. I always went tJ the
clasees at the plant, where they taugnt different
thins about tires anu rubber, and I met a man there from
Penne.ilvanie, nae.ed iyers, wno naa a little ieoney, anel vino
wanted to Lo in eusinese. 'ee seemed to ait it off pretty
well together, enu decidee to go in partnership.
"e considered several places in Jet Virtdinia, out
couldn't find just whet we wanted. About that time I took
a trip nodie, and it seemed to -e that there was an opening
here for the kind of shop we nad in „dna. I sent for Myers,
and he agreed with lee, so we opened a tire -repair shop to-
gether on Stroup A., just two blocks freel where I am now.
That was in 1921.
"The shop didn't pay very well until we took on a line
of well-known tires to sell, and about that time hyers got
tired of it, and offered to sell out. I got my father lee-
t_ er,corse a nate for me, and took over the entire business.
"s4ers didn't last but about a year. His whole attitude
was wroag: when a man came to our place :Ayers would try to
get all ae coula out of him right then and there, and deal
with nim as if we'd never see him again. That ain't the
way to build up a business. You've got to have satisfied
customers, ano bring them back for Grore business. Besides,
a man that you've treated right, and been fair with, will
tell his friends, aid they'll come around for something.
4ers didn't known anything about building up a business
that way, and ae lost customers almost as fast as I could
get them. And he didn't know
people nere he was from the
people where he came from are
Why, whenever he met a man on
now to get along with these
North, and I suppose the
different from us down here.
the street who owed us a
little money, he would stop rum and say, 'How about paying
that 500 you owe us for that tire?' Folks down here get
tired of that mighty quick. It's a good thing for me that
he decided to pull out. I've been running the business
for nearly 17 years, now, and I've done very well. I own
,rry home, clear, and there's nothing against the business.
I have five men working for me, and I may have to put or.
another man soon. I always try to give Jay customers a
little more for their money than they expect, and it pays."
Don is about six feet tall, weighs 180, is about to
protrude at the waistline, and walks Aflightly stooped. His
gait is still that of the mountaineer. He married in 1923,
and his wife, who continued to work for several years after
their marriage says that she is "in the baby business now."
They have three childre: a girl, 11, and two boys, four and
one. She was formerly employed across the street from Don's
shop, and one day he got ner to bind up a cut finger. He
had noticed ner for some time, but could not get an intro-
duction. They have a bungalow in one of the better residen-
tial sections, and tne yard is carefully fenced to keep the
childien out of the street. A tiny Boston puppy is the
newest member of the household, and they have a hard time
keeping the baby from squeezing the animal to death, he
loves it so.
For recreation, Don bowls in the winter, and fishes in
the summer. Whenever possible, he goes to the coast for
salt -water fishing, and has become very adept. He y.ongs
to the Y.1.C.A., the Lamber of immerce, and a fraternal
order, and is a deacon in the Presbyterian church, but the
American Legion is really his extramarital love: he never
A
misses a meeting or a parade, is prompt with his dues,
serves on nearly all committees, does Herculean work, and
always has a spotless uniform. He is very nearly the Per-
fect Member.
"What do you think about war, Don?"
"There ought not to be any. Well, unless somebody
invades your country. Then you've got to fight."
"What about China, and Spain, and l'Ahiopia?"
"They're just darn fools in Spain. Whichever side wins,
tney all los. They're fools for letting Hitler and Aissolini
and the Russians ruin their country. I'll bet most of them
have forgotten what they started fighting for. China and
Ethiopia are different, and there ought to be some way to
keep strong nations from invading weak nations, but not by
war, except I don't blame the weak nation for fighting. The
League of Nations was supposed to handle things like that,
I thought, but it Lurned out to be a flop. Let 'em fight,
though, if they have to, so long as we can keep out of it.
I didn't even get to the World "iar until after it was over,
but there wasn't anything about it I enjoyed, except getting
back home."