Bruce Voyles
Roads Less Traveled
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Asheville-raised writer Thomas Wolfe issued what I felt was a challenge with his book title You Can’t Go Home Again. I have tried
to prove him incorrect before, and failed, but this time I think I’ve pulled it off.
I can go home to Cherokee County, to Murphy, the place of my birth and rearing. Life’s circles happen that way sometimes.
Raised and educated at Hiwassee Dam, I left here at age 18 for a year at Western Carolina University. Instead of studying, I preferred to go to the Jiffy Shop in Waynesville for beer and cutting classes to come home for mid-week dates with my girl. At the end of my freshman year, with poor grades, I opted instead for Atlanta.
I edited my college newspaper and enjoyed a one year full-ride scholarship for writing poetry, the results published as a book supplement to the DeKalb Literary Arts Journal titled Murphy, North Carolina. I finished at Georgia State University, where I edited GSU’s literary magazine.
My classmates pursued their dream jobs, daily newspapers in Augusta, Columbus and the Journal-Constitution. I wanted to come home to Murphy and work at the Cherokee Scout. I did, testing Wolfe’s theory.
On Mondays, I trained under Ed Middleton at the Copperhill, Tenn., Citizen-Advance, an old-time editor who would have been at home wearing a visor and arm garters. On Tuesdays and Fridays, I worked at the Blue Ridge Summit Post, writing, photography, hawking advertising.
On Wednesdays and Thursdays, I worked in
the Scout back shop, bundling papers coming off the press, burning plates, shooting pages. I received a printing education that would prove priceless in my later magazine publisher career.
I was the fill-in editor at the Scout and Andrews Journal, under the supervision of Wally Avett, the retired Hillbilly Ranger.
Dreams change. My first book about knives sold well, and I was asked to create a magazine for a knife collector’s organization in Chattanooga, Tenn. That lead eventually to owning my own publishing company producing magazines, books and trade shows. Chattanooga became my home for the next 35 years.
When my company decided to branch out into outdoor titles, one of the people who joined me in developing new magazines was my former editor, Avett. He commuted to Chattanooga from Murphy three days a week.
When asked why I left Murphy in those days, my thoughtless quip was two words: “I escaped.” I believed I had. In those days, a graduating senior with no college plans, or a recent college graduate had limited opportunities here, short of becoming a school teacher or copper miner.
My parents, Euclid and Elaine Voyles, remained here, an hour and a half from my front door to theirs. When they began to have health issues, we remodeled a place I inherited from my grandparents on Sycamore Street.
Meanwhile, my Chattanooga changed. I sold my publishing company, and one by one my good friends began moving away or dying. I started remotely editing a California based magazine. We were spending more time back in Murphy.
The turning point came with an automobile malfunction near the mall. As I sat there waiting from my wife to rescue me, I realized I had no good friends to call. They were all gone.
My California gig went away. Now almost every weekend was spent in Murphy.
Wandering a trail behind the train depot I happened on the River Walk. As we walked, I told my wife, Debbie, “This is not the place we escaped. Things have changed.” Thus was planted a thought about moving home that consumed a year before we decided. My life circled me back to Cherokee County.
Also circling back was my friendship with Avett. We both completed novels and often would compare notes. He recently told me he was giving up his Scout column.
“I think you could handle it,” he said.
I find myself circling back where I started, with my writing again appearing in the Scout every other week. It is good to be home.
Despite his title, I think Wolfe would understand. Sometimes you can go home again.
Bruce Voyles’ local history column runs every other week in the Cherokee Scout. Email him at RoadsLessTraveled@cherokeescout.com.