HIGHLANDS, N.C., June 3 (UPI) -- A "neighbor" of mine was arrested last week. Eric Rudolph was captured in Murphy, N.C., and promptly turned over to the FBI who always (try to) get their man. But this is a part of the story about which the national press doesn't have a clue -– the baseless speculation on how Rudolph "eluded capture for so long."
This is the wrong question, and leads to the wrong answers. Anyone familiar with Cherokee County and its surrounding counties in the southwest corner of this state knows that Rudolph was captured much sooner than most of those who have gone into these woods and knew how to survive and to hide.
Let's begin with a dose of history, followed by some geography and geology.
The "Trail of Tears" began in 1838 when President Jackson ordered that the Cherokee be rounded up and marched by force to Oklahoma. That order was unconstitutional, but the U.S. Supreme Court then was too weak institutionally to stop Jackson's onslaught. Some of the Cherokee fled into these mountains, and hid out there for upwards of 30 years before it was safe for them to come out. Then, they became the core of the Eastern Band of the Cherokee. (The tragic story of the "Trail of Tears" is told in the outdoor drama, "Unto These Hills," presented nightly at the Eastern Cherokee reservation. But I digress.)
Before explaining how the Cherokee held out for 30 years, here's the other main example: After the Civil War ended in 1865, bands of Confederate soldiers took to these mountains to hide from the Yankees. They held out for more than 20 years, before it was safe for them to come out.
The quick reaction might be that the Cherokee, and later the Confederates, "had help from local citizens." Not so. The local citizens wanted the Cherokee land, and tended to help the Union Army's efforts to find them. As for the Confederates, they also had enemies in these parts. Western Carolina was second only to the break-away state of West Virginia in its Northern sympathies, and also in having its sons wear Union blue rather than Confederate gray. There were many local folks willing to capture or turn in the hiding Confederates.
Why couldn't the Union Army find the Cherokee, and later the Confederates, for decades? For the same reasons that the FBI could not find Eric Rudolph for half a decade. The answers are found in the geography and geology of Western Carolina.
North of Murphy is Fontana Lake. Here, a new TVA lake drowned the town of Fontana beginning in 1943. This was fictionalized in the movie Deliverance. To the east is Nantahala Gorge and Lake. The U.S. Olympic Kayak and Canoe Teams have trained in this gorge. The Smoky Mountain Railroad runs here. Most people have seen the train wreck scene from "The Fugitive," which was shot here. To the west of Murphy is Hiwassee Gorge and Lake. And surrounding Murphy and stretching into three adjacent states is the Nantahala National Forest.
Yes, the territory is remote and rugged. But that's only the beginning of the story.
In the Nantahala Gorge alone, there are hundreds of limestone caverns. Some have never been discovered, much less explored. All these gorges have similar caves. Even today, from time to time, caves are discovered that contain relics of the Cherokee or the Confederates. A few years ago, Confederate graves were discovered at such a site, untouched since those men were laid to rest about 140 years ago.
These hundreds of caves, some of them extremely large inside but with small and hidden entrances, were etched out of the limestone of the mountains by heavy rains, which average just less than 90 inches a year -- the minimum for a tropical rain forest. And deep in a cave, the temperature holds at a steady 55 degrees. Anyone with adequate clothing and the ability to fish and hunt could hold out in most of these caves for decades, and never be found.
The press is talking about the FBI "retracing the steps of Eric Rudolph." Odds are, they will never find his hideouts unless he tells them where to look. (As this is written, first reports are coming in that Rudolph has been talking to the authorities, and that some of his hideouts have been found. I conclude those two reports are related.)
No, five years is not a remarkably long time to capture Rudolph. It is remarkably short. The Army never found the Cherokee or the Confederates. But then, neither the Cherokee nor the Confederates ever crept into town to go dumpster-diving behind the Save-a-Lot grocery store.
Did Rudolph "have help" while he was in hiding? Maybe, maybe not. But based on the mountains and the caves along the streams, that wasn't necessary to his five years of hiding from authorities. There might have been a handful of "extremists" who helped him. But if so, such people are a tiny minority.
I know folks around Murphy, N.C. I also know folks in university communities of similar size in New Haven, Conn., College Park, Md., and in Washington, D.C. There are more "extremists" pound for pound in each of those university communities than in Murphy. The differences are that the university extremists encourage others to do their dirty work, are totalitarians of a different stripe, and aren't being hunted. Also, they wouldn't survive very well if they wandered too far from the nearest faculty lounge.
Why did I refer to Eric Rudolph as a "neighbor"? For most people, a neighbor means someone whose kitchen window you can see out your bedroom window. Or, it is someone whose floor is just above your ceiling. Things are different in Western Carolina.
My nearest neighbor is a quarter mile away by road. Because there's been a building boom of late, I have five neighbors who are a half mile away by road. Eric Rudolph was living just 40 miles from here as a crow flies. Of course, the trip would have been twice as long if the crow had to walk and roll a flat tire.
And now a word about the people of Western Carolina. Rookie Officer Jeff Postell, who captured Eric Rudolph, is typical of the people hereabouts. Rudolph is not. At the press conference to announce the arrest of Rudolph, there were about 20 people shoulder to shoulder behind the podium. Just one of those gentlemen was wearing a coat and tie. I figured he was FBI, and so he was.
Sheriff Thigpen of Cherokee County, plus the other sheriffs and the chief of the Cherokee Tribal Police are all what we call "good ol' boys." They dress for the rough outdoors, they work hard, they talk slow with an accent, and they do what they can for their families, their communities -– and in this case, for the nation. That isn't a bad description of what it means to be a good citizen. But that's not how many parts of the national press are portraying them, or the communities they represent.
I am sick to death of supercilious reporters and editors looking down their noses at the people who live in my area. I can hear the opening bars of "Dueling Banjos" from Deliverance playing in their heads, as they seek to portray us as a pack of morons, retards and troglodytes who can't think our way out of a paper bag, but can play the banjo fit to be tied. This is nonsense. ("Dueling Banjos" was taken from "Feudin' Banjos," written by Arthur Smith and Don Reno, nearly 50 years ago. And the retarded blind boy was neither of those things. He is now in his 50s, manages a nearby business, and still plays a mean banjo. But I digress again.)
Does Western Carolina produce an occasional disturbed person like police say Eric Rudolph is? You bet. So does Harvard University. But a thousand times more typical of the folks hereabouts is Officer Jeff Postell, the man who arrested Eric Rudolph. As Officer Postell quietly and honestly said at the post-arrest press conference, "I was just doing my job." He did it just right; the result was excellent and no shots were fired. "I was just doing my job" is a fair slogan for most of the people of Western Carolina.
Since you have read this far, you have a better picture of the history, geography, and people of Western Carolina than most of the Rudolph coverage has given you. Perhaps you also have a taste for our natural beauty and down-home living. Western Carolina is one of the largest "unknown" retirement communities. Just south of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, it offers a low cost of living, welcoming folks, and magnificent weather -– temperatures seldom creep above 85 degrees.
Western Carolina has more than 200 waterfalls, more than 100 golf courses, thousands of places to find good country cooking, and thousands of places to hang your hat. It deserves to be known as much more than just "the place Eric Rudolph hid out."
--
(About the Author: John Armor practices law in the U.S. Supreme Court. His eighth book will be, "These Are the Times that Try Men's Souls," about Thomas Paine).
