Showing posts with label burned. Show all posts
Showing posts with label burned. Show all posts

Sunday, July 26, 2026

Yankee cavalry torched Sope Creek paper mill above Atlanta. Now a nonprofit aims to preserve the stone wall of ruins in federal park along the Chattahoochee River

Ruins: Chattahoochee National Park Conservancy, map from NPS, marker by David Seibert, HMdb.org
In the days before Union Maj. Gen. William T. Sherman’s army made a pivotal crossing of the Chattahoochee River -- inching ever closer to Atlanta – mounted soldiers fanned out, intent on destroying anything of value to the Confederate cause.

Of particular interest were water-powered mills that mostly produced textiles. But one mill east of Marietta, Ga., along Sope (sometimes spelled Soap) Creek, was a bit unusual. It made newsprint for newspapers, writing sheets and cartridge paper used for Rebel weapons, among other goods. It apparently was known as a “rag mill," due to the paper being made from linen rags and old cotton. 

On July 5, 1864, elements of the famous Wilder’s (Lightning Brigade) put the torch to the Marietta Paper Mill, which got its start in the late 1850s. While the mill was rebuilt after the Civil War, it became defunct in 1902. (Photo below: Nearby pulp mill in 1907)

In recent years, the paper mill site has been a favorite trail stop for millions who flock to the Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area.

Time and nature, of course, have taken a toll on the ruins. Unchecked and invasive vegetation have spread throughout the stones, placing pressure on its delicate walls. That’s about to change, according to an announcement this week. The nonprofit Chattahoochee National Park Conservancy and the National Park Service are partnering on an ambitious restoration project.

“For more than 170 years, these iconic stone ruins have stood as a reminder of Georgia's industrial past and the pivotal role the Chattahoochee River played in shaping our region,” the conservancy said. “After decades of exposure to the elements and encroaching invasive vegetation, the site is ready for critical preservation work.”

The first phase will remove invasive species, improve access for preservation specialists and document existing conditions.

In 2027, phase two will bring in experienced historic preservation specialists to stabilize and restore the remaining stone masonry. “Rather than reconstructing the ruins, the work will focus on protecting and preserving the existing structure while maintaining its historic integrity,” the conservancy said.

Did Phillips Legion founder tweak his nose at Yankees?

Col. John T. Wilder’s brigade gained fame in 1863 for its performance at Chickamauga, protecting the army’s flank and then launching a counterattack. For the Atlanta Campaign, regiments were transferred to the cavalry corps.

On July 5 or 6, 1864, elements of the 17th Indiana Mounted Infantry and 72nd Indiana Mounted Infantry headed for the mills in Roswell found the Sope Creek paper mill, which was partially owned by William R. Phillips (left).

David Evans, in his book “Sherman’s Horsemen,” wrote about the raid, and quoted from an earlier book on Georgia places and personalities.

“An ardent secessionist, at the outbreak of the war Phillips had raised a regiment of infantry, cavalry and artillery known as Phillips’ Legion,” Evans wrote. “The loss of an eye had forced him to retired from active duty in 1862 but had done nothing to lessen his hatred of Yankees. Watching from the south side of the Chattahoochee when Maj. (Jacob) Vail and his men arrived on July 5, he sent them a message which declared, ‘The mill belonged to a man who had fought them from the beginning of the war, and who could continue to fight them to the bitter end; that he had been taught to hate them as enemies to him and his, and that he would die hating them; that he did not ask any favor from them; and they might burn to their heart’s content.’”

“It is uncertain whether Vail received the message, but his Hoosiers put the paper mill and neighboring flour mills and machine shops to the torch,” Evans added.

Wartime and postwar images of 17th Indiana drummer boy Johnny Butler ("Souvenir," a regimental history)
The National Park Service said at the time the site was rumored to have been printing Confederate currency and bonds, but the claim has never been substantiated.

Charlie Crawford, president emeritus of the Georgia Battlefields Association, cautions the Phillips quotation may be apocryphal.

Crawford in a “Georgia Outdoors” segment produced several years ago for Georgia Public Broadcasting, talked about Sherman’s strategy.


“One of his objectives was to destroy any industry that might be of use to the Confederate government. Now in many cases, he would leave a flour mill, because he was uncertain how long his own troops would be here, and if they were here for a prolonged period of time, they might need flour,” Crawford said on the episode about mills. “And so he didn’t destroy every flour mill. But a paper mill or anything that was essentially superfluous to his efforts, but yet might aid the Confederacy, was fair game.”

Howls of protest: Women mill workers were taken north

The destruction of property, whether business or personal, was burned into the memories of Georgians. Of particular outrage was the fate of hundreds who worked at mills around Atlanta.

After a large Douglas County mill was torched by Union cavalry in July 1864, nearly 100 residents, mostly female workers and their children, were sent north by train -- under protest -- to spend the rest of the war. Many took an oath of allegiance to the United States. 

Don Scarbrough at New Manchester mill site in 2017 (Picket photo)
They shared the same fate as a much larger group of 500 people connected to destroyed mills in Roswell, just north of Atlanta.

From the Northern perspective, the workers were American citizens in open rebellion – a policy that outraged Southerners.

Crawford said the Sope Creek paper mill suspended operations before the cavalry arrived, so no workers were present to be taken into custody.

Researcher and historian Brad Quinlin said he recalled a 2014 event to commemorate the 600 mill workers being marched in Marietta before they were put on trains.

“We had a gentleman join us and said his gr-grandmother was one of those mill workers from Sope Creek Mill. It was fun to have him with us for the day and march with us to the square. He did not have much information on his gr-grandmother and her journey after she was shipped out of Marietta,” Quinlin wrote in an email.

Very few of those shipped north ever made it back to Georgia.

Friday, March 13, 2026

If you're a fan of craftsmanship, the reassembly of the ironclad CSS Jackson's fantail at the National Civil War Naval Museum will give you an insight into ingenuity

Inverted fantail in place, volunteer Stephen Diamante (NCWNM photo); fantail before arson (Picket photo)
The National Civil War Naval Museum is using tools, brawn and some creative thinking to reassemble 28 heavy pieces of iron that made up the fantail of the ironclad CSS Jackson.

The precisely built curved rear deck that protected the Confederate vessel’s rudder and propellers had sat outside the Columbus, Ga., venue for decades, waiting for new life. But a 2020 arson fire that raced through a pole barn dashed hopes of conserving the fantail.

Now, director Brandon Gilland and volunteers at the museum are arranging the iron in the shape of a half moon, in preparation for flipping and placing the pieces onto a cedar base. When the project is completed, visitors will be able to get an idea of how the armor built at the stern was constructed and protected the ironclad. (Note: The armor was placed above the wood on the Jackson; photos here are of the fantail upside down)

Pallet jack and crane hoist are aiding in the remaking of the Jackson's fantail (NCWNM photos)
Thus far, the team has used a pry bar and pallet jack to move the 400-pound plus pieces from where they have been stacked near the hulking remains of the Jackson. A crane hoist will help them turn the iron over.

Gilland told the Picket this week he will likely use some computer software to help match up the pieces with the new wood backing. A forklift may be required.

He likens the effort to the exacting work done by the builders of the ship on the Chattahoochee River that divides the western Georgia city and Alabama.

“American ingenuity,” the director quipped.

The project is timed to the museum’s 25th year in a large building situated on Victory Drive and a hundred or so yards from the river. Officials had originally hoped to build a full recreation of the fantail, showing its fascinating contours, but the idea was deemed too expensive and ambitious.

Instead, the pieces will be arrayed with some wood beneath. Gilland would like for the fantail to be slightly elevated, if possible.

The price tag will be about $2,500 for frame work, said Gilland.

The original goal was to have the modest display ready for the March 21 RiverBlast, an annual event that includes cannon firings, living historians, food, family events and more.

The work is taking more time than envisioned, and will go another month or more.

Scorched iron was cleaned up by conservators

Robert Holcombe, a naval historian and former director of the museum, previously told me besides the CSS Georgia in Savannah, the fantail may have been the only piece of wood from a Confederate ironclad with iron plating still attached.

A fire set by Union cavalrymen in 1865 and the second lit by the arsonist took away the dignity – and most of the supporting wood.

A few years ago, Terra Mare Conservation treated and numbered the armor, digitally mapped the artifact and produced a fascinating video showing how it was designed and put together. Visitors can stand near one of the Jackson’s propellers and watch the looped production (NCWNM photo, right).

Bolts and other fasteners are in crates. Charred wood lies on pallets. The museum said it is impossible to reuse that timber, fashioned from longleaf pine.

“I got all the armor sequenced to how it was taken apart,” Gilland said of the iron. “We are pushing it all together like it would have been (put) together.”

The finished product will rest near the propeller.

If at first you don't succeed ...

The Jackson (originally named the Muscogee) was designed to protect Columbus – a critically important industrial center for the Confederacy -- from Union navy marauders and blockaders. Construction on the Jackson began in early 1863.

The original paddlewheel design proved a failure and engineers decided to go with a dual-propeller system in 1864. Gilland said visitors can see where the old wheel was attached to the hull.

Builders then came up with the ingenious fantail, which featured differing lengths of iron. Gilland speculates some of that may be by design while other sections may have been pieces refitted to fit the latter plan. Some pieces have an extra hole or two for a bolt (left), lending credence to that belief.

Jeff Seymour, director of history and collections at the museum at the time of the arson blaze, wrote about the casemate ironclad’s fantail:

“As each level emerged, we were able to see elements of this vessel that no one has seen since 1864. As each level surfaced, several questions about how the Jackson was constructed were answered, but many more questions developed. Simply, this structure is much more complex than we thought heading into this project."

Crew of the CSS Jackson (Muscogee) aboard vessel on Chattahoochee River (Wikipedia)
The ironclad’s two engines and four boilers – manufactured in Columbus – were not operational when the city fell, and there’s a question about how well they would have performed, anyway. At best, the Jackson would have done about 5 knots.

Remains of the Jackson and the twin-screw wooden ship CSS Chattahoochee are the star exhibits of the museum. Both were lost in April 1865 at war’s end -- the Jackson set afire by Federal captors and the Chattahoochee scuttled by its own crew. Neither vessel saw action.

They were recovered from the Chattahoochee River in the early 1960s (fantail below) and a museum was built to house them (it no longer exists). Older photos indicate not all iron pieces of the fantail were salvaged.

(National Civil War Naval Museum photos)
Iron will resemble a giant folded fan

As of this writing, the museum had arranged 17 of the fantail pieces in a semicircle. Eleven more will be positioned before the flip (there are two surplus pieces, said Gilland).

“It is looking really good,” the director said Thursday. 

Gilland’s crew will soon turn their attention to the cedar base.

“We can do precise measurements of the underside, and then we will make the framework.”

Another cool factor: Some of the original bolts will be placed into the holes.

Wednesday, January 14, 2026

National Civil War Naval Museum hopes to arrange and display armor from ironclad's fantail by the end of March. The complex piece -- damaged by an arson fire in 2020 -- was built to protect CSS Jackson's rudder, propellers

Fantail before arson fire, Brandon Gilland with armor, charred wood, explainer on design (Picket photos)
A fire set by Union cavalrymen in 1865 and a second lit by an arsonist in 2020 took away the dignity – and much of the wood – from a remarkable section of the Confederate ironclad CSS Jackson.

But the blazes could not erase the story of the fantail crafted for the vessel, whose remains are on display at the National Civil War Naval Museum in Columbus, Ga.

The arson fire dashed hopes of conserving the fantail, the precisely built curved rear deck that protected the vessel’s rudder and propellers. It sat for years, lying upside down, in a pole barn outside the museum. Officials had hoped to move the component inside and build a pie-shaped replica.

The arson changed all that.

Crew of the CSS Jackson (Muscogee) aboard vessel on Chattahoochee River (Wikipedia)
Museum officials moved to the idea of using the surviving armor and replacement wood for a recreation that would highlight the artifact’s complexity and contours. No dice. That option ultimately proved too costly and unfeasible.

“Each piece looked like it was almost cut to fit. There are all kinds of sizes and shapes,” museum director Brandon Gilland told the Picket. In other words, it would take big bucks and precise knowledge and skills to fashion new pieces.

Now there’s a new approach.

The fantail after it was removed from the Chattahoochee River in 1961 (NCWNM photo)
To mark its 25th year in a large building situated on Victory Drive and near the Chattahoochee River -- where the Jackson was built -- the museum will shortly begin a less ambitious project to display the 30 or so pieces of fantail armor, said Gilland.

“That fantail has been nagging at me for a while,” he said.

Volunteers, using equipment to lift the 400-pound sections, will arrange them in a half-moon shape. Beneath the armor will be cedar or some other material.

The finished product will likely end up flat on the floor next to the Jackson’s stern, though Gilland would like for the fantail to be slightly elevated, if possible.

They can't use the original wood, because the 1865 and 2020 fires basically ruined them

The goal is to have the modest display ready for the March 21 RiverBlast, an annual event that includes cannon firings, living historians, food, family events and more.

Since the surviving armor was treated about five years ago, the sections have sat in rows along the Jackson. Bolts and other fasteners are in crates, awaiting new life. Charred wood lie on pallets, also near the stern

I held a bolt and a couple fasteners and asked Gilland whether they could be reused. Perhaps some of the bolts, he said. To demonstrate, he placed a bolt in a hole in one piece of iron armor (Picket photo, above).

That momentary connection seemingly brought the project to life.

Structure proved to be more complex than thought

CSS Jackson flag captured by 4th Division, U.S. Cavalry (The American Civil War Museum, Richmond, Va.)
Remains of the Jackson and the twin-screw wooden ship CSS Chattahoochee are the star exhibits of the museum. Both were lost in April 1865 at war’s end -- the Jackson set afire by Federal captors and the Chattahoochee scuttled by its own crew.

They were recovered from the Chattahoochee River in the early 1960s. Neither saw action.

The fantail was the half-moon shaped rear deck of the CSS Jackson, which was never fully operational. The section of armor and timber is a remarkable example of design and construction prowess. 

After the 2020 fire, the upside-down fantail was the first to receive conservation attention. Each beam was documented. Using a process called photogrammetry, the archaeologists took hundreds of images of each layer in order to better understand the structure. (Gilland says the section with green labels at right may be the least damaged from the 2020 fire; Picket photo)

Jeff Seymour, director of history and collections at the museum at the time of the arson blaze, wrote about the ironclad’s fantail:

“As each level emerged, we were able to see elements of this vessel that no one has seen since 1864. As each level surfaced, several questions about how the Jackson was constructed were answered, but many more questions developed. Simply, this structure is much more complex than we thought heading into this project."

Seymour called the fantail “a very unique piece of naval architecture” that’s believed to be the only Civil War example out of the water. Because the rear deck was curved, builders had to customize the length of the armor and timber. (Seymour now works at the Erie Maritime Museum in Pennsylvania.

When I saw the fantail in 2019, before the arson fire, the artifact and the Chattahoochee’s engine components were in the pole barn outside the museum, exposed to the elements and slowly deteriorating.

I marveled at the fantail, which was charred in places from the 1865 fire. But the wood was in place and you could see how it was fashioned from layers of longleaf pine and other material.

Remnants of the pole barn after the 2020 fire; the roof is no longer there  (Columbus Fire and EMS)
The June 2020 arson, which has not been solved, charred the fantail’s timbers to their core, also destroying the piece’s shape. The Chattahoochee’s wrought iron and cast iron engines, the iron plates from the Jackson’s armor and the iron plating to the fantail survived, though they were exposed to the thermal heat.

To this day, dozens of pieces of armor belonging to one side of the Jackson are in the fenced area, poking through weeds and burned wood. Why not move them inside and conserve them? There’s no money to do that currently, said Gilland.

Video shows how the fantail was put together

The naval museum has the benefit of post-fire conservation work done several years ago by Terra Mare Conservation to serve as a guide.

The company treated and tagged the armor, digitally mapped the fantail and produced a fascinating video showing how it was designed and put together. Visitors can stand near one of the Jackson’s propeller and watch the looped production

Gilland expects the work to cost about $2,000, compared to at least $25,000 for a full recreation. Museum officials several years ago cited a much higher figure to do a full-scale recreation.

Fund-raising for the fantail work was part of a larger effort, most of which has been completed, including a few new exhibits, said Gilland.

Robert Holcombe, a naval historian and former director of the museum, previously told me besides the CSS Georgia in Savannah, the fantail may have been the only piece of wood from a Confederate ironclad with iron plating still attached.

Homemade behemoth had an inglorious end

Museum visitors can gaze at the hull of the flat-bottom ironclad from a viewing platform and on the floor (Picket photo below).

 A section is missing, but you get a good views of the vessel’s enormity – it was about 222 long and 57 feet across. Above the CSS Jackson’s hull is ghosting framework intended to show how the warship appeared above the water line. The rudder is missing.


The Jackson (originally named the Muscogee) was designed to protect Columbus – a critically important industrial center for the Confederacy -- from Union navy marauders and blockaders. 
Construction on the Jackson began in early 1863. It was built entirely in Columbus.

The Jackson’s casemate had a 35-degree slope and featured nearly two feet of wood and two layers of plating, mostly manufactured at the Scofield and Markham mill in Atlanta.

The vessel, armed with six Brooke rifles (two of which rest outside the museum), was finally launched -- after earlier unsuccessful attempts -- on Dec. 22, 1864, to local fanfare. 

Fantail bolts and fasteners were cleaned and place in boxes (Picket photo)
The two engines and four boilers – manufactured in Columbus – were not operational when the city fell, and there’s a question about how well they would have performed, anyway. At best, the Jackson would have done about 5 knots.

The ship still needed armor and was unfinished when the Federal cavalry arrived on April 16, 1865.

“The following day the nearly completed ship was set ablaze and cut loose by her captors,” a panel at the naval museum says. “After drifting downstream some 30 miles, the Jackson ground on a sandbar and burned to the waterline.”

This view shows differing lengths and widths for armor (Picket photo)

Brandon Gilland points to area to where armor will be displayed (Picket photo)

Tuesday, January 13, 2026

SC's Civil War governor slept (and likely burned papers) here. Group fixing up home in Union is raising money for next phase as craftsman pours TLC into windows

(Clockwise from top left): Two completed Dawkins House windows, dowel use in sash, front door transom needing work, wartime Gov. Andrew Magrath and 18th century nails (Courtesy Robert Schmitt and Preservation SC)
Words I never thought I write here when I started this blog: Glazing points, rabbets, sashes, cedar dowels, mortise and wooden pegs.

But here we are 16 years later and I am all ears as craftsman Robert Schmitt describes the work and passion he is putting into repairing windows on a home that once served as the office for South Carolina’s governor during the Civil War.

The restoration expert has removed rot and repaired 10 windows from the front of the Judge Thomas Dawkins house in Union. The town south of Spartanburg briefly served as the capital of the state after Columbia fell to Union forces in 1865 and Gov. Andrew Magrath fled traveled to Union.

Schmitt, in his mid-70s (right), is doing the work for the nonprofit group Preservation South Carolina, which has undertaken a massive task in saving and fixing up the house for future use as an alumni and corporate center for the University of South Carolina-Union.

"There is some exceptionally good glass in some of the sashes that I just finished, and the glazing points used were definitely original to the 1840s,” said Schmitt. 

Glazing points are used to hold a window in place before new putty or caulk is installed. “The old style glazing had a bad way of cracking and falling out.”

Schmitt has been working in the house’s yard in a “between” stage of the house restoration. The $300,000 state-funded Phase 1 shored up the building. Photos showed jacks below the house and supporting the porch. Impressive timbers and bricks support the house.

Preservation South Carolina (PSC) and the campus soon will launch a campaign to raise up to $1 million for the next phase. No state or federal funds are currently available, officials said. Schmitt has temporarily stopped his contributions until more funds come in.

Bill Comer, a Union native and head of the PSC’s Dawkins House rehab project, told the Picket a Charleston-based historical restoration contractor in November braced and stabilized the front porch's roof, which had begun to sag and pull away from the front wall of the house.

“Since the roof will need to be completely replaced once Phase 2 stabilization construction begins, we chose to not work on the roof during the Phase 1 stabilization phase. But it's pulling away from the house was beginning to damage the front wall, which make it essential to make repairs,” said Comer.

Schmitt has identified nails that were used in the original section of the house built in the 1700s, and some that were used to build the 1845 addition.

Some of the glass panes are original to the 1845 house, but Schmitt has taken about a dozen from his stock for replacements.

Unlike modern windows, these are single-pane products without built-in insulation.

While the 10 windows he has repaired are from the 1840s, Schmitt has his eyes on a couple dating from the mid-18th century in the back (photo, left)

House fireplaces burned more than wood

The Dawkins House, a terminus residence situated on the campus at the end of Church Street, was nicknamed “The Shrubs” and was occupied by Judge Dawkins and his English-born wife Mary Poulton Dawkins. The 1850 Federal slave schedule indicates they owned about 30 enslaved persons before the war. 

USC-Union is establishing a genealogical and archives course that will focus on the history of the house and its occupants and visitors, including the identification of the enslaved who currently are known only by their age and gender. It is anticipated that the course will be open to students and residents who have an interest in ancestry research and history beginning in fall 2026.

House in May 2020 before porch roof repair and windows removed; house last month (PSC, Robert Schmitt)
The property is best known for several weeks in spring 1865.

Gov. Magrath, before fleeing Columbia as Federal troops closed in, got in touch with college chum Dawkins about using the home and others nearby to conduct business amid the chaos.

From about Feb. 15, 1865, until early April, Magrath ran the state from the Dawkins House. He apparently worked in an informal library near the drawing room, which survives today. Chaos ruled across South Carolina.

Workers apply frame inside a room to help in stabilization efforts (Photo from PSC)
According to histories and local legend, Magrath and his subordinates burned possibly incriminating documents and correspondence in the fireplaces. (The home served as South Carolina's capitol while the city was briefly its capital.)

Upon learning of Gen. Robert E. Lee's surrender at Appomattox, Magrath and his staff raced away from Union as Maj. Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman's Federal troops moved in. He was eventually captured on May 25 and imprisoned at Fort Pulaski near Savannah, Ga., until release that December. 

Magrath apparently hid a silver tea set at the Dawkins' home while he was based there. Mary Dawkins wrote the couple took the set to Mills House in Charleston after Magrath was released and they gave it to him.

Unrepaired windows, old entrances and cool brick chimney (Robert Schmitt)
Group will create fund-raising videos

Phase 2 of the ambitious project will be much more extensive and expensive than the first. The aim is for PSC to eventually hand over the house to the university for finishing and customization.

Joanna Rothell, director of outreach and preservation for PSC, previously said Phase 2 will include:

-- Installation of new piers on concrete footings in the crawlspace;

-- Strengthening of porch, first and second floor framings, the roof system and all walls;

Window hook to hold a lower sash; wear on a since repaired window frame (Robert Schmitt)
-- Installation of the required framing for a new interior staircase where the original historic, spiral staircase was located in the central hall. This will entail strengthening the floors and walls in this area, including any necessary new footings in the crawlspace.

“We are putting the bones back in it where the bones should be,” said Comer.

When Judge Dawkins built his residence in 1845, he expanded upon a pre-existing, two-story structure,” the organization said in a newsletter.

“Further examination has revealed that the materials used in the construction of the older portion of the house dates closer to 1760, rather than the previously estimated 1800s.

As the campaign to raise money and fix up the house restarts this month, Rothell and Comer soon will be making some short videos of people talking about what the Dawkins house means to them and why people in Union County and elsewhere in South Carolina should support the efforts. 

One of the front windows near front door before repair; glazing points (Robert Schmitt)
They are working with the campus and business and community leaders to raise awareness. A fund-raising meeting on campus with corporate leaders is set for Jan. 28. A tour of the Dawkins House will follow.

“PSC will be meeting with corporate and community leaders, as well as individuals and legislators, during the next several months,” added Comer. “Since Dawkins once served as the capitol of SC and is the only such still-standing building besides the current State House in Columbia, it is important to make the legislative community aware of the need to preserve this building that has a rich history.”

After the house is restored and customized renovations have been completed, the second floor will be used for offices by USC Union, and the first floor will be used by alumni and local corporations for social gatherings and management meetings, “thereby bringing employers onto campus to facilitate a strong, collaborative network with USC Union’s students and administration,” added Comer.

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

An Arkansas museum telling the tragic story of the steamboat Sultana will be housed in an old school gym. Its decades-old wooden bleachers are finding a new use

Wood from high school bleachers adorn lobby area; banners will be featured in exhibits (Sultana Disaster Museum)
John Fogleman grew up in Marion, Ark., three blocks from the high school gymnasium-auditorium his grandfather helped dedicate in 1939 near the end of the Great Depression.

Fogleman -- president of the Sultana Historical Preservation Society, which is building a new museum about a Civil War maritime disaster that occurred near the town -- routinely walked to the gym to watch basketball games and attend plays and pep rallies. He played guard for the junior high and high school hoops teams.

“My memory is that the gym was always packed with people (probably not in reality),” he said. “It was much like a scene from ‘Hoosiers.’”

Fogleman’s and other alumni’s memories will live on as the Sultana Disaster Museum continues to take shape in the old multiuse building. Recent construction has used part of the 500-seat bleachers to decorate walls in the lobby area outside what will be the main exhibit area. (Below, Fogleman during a 1969 game at Marion High School)

“Generations of high school students … were in that gym. (Some) of our board members played on the basketball team,” museum director executive director Jeff Kollath told the Daily Memphian podcast last month.

The relocated museum, which spotlights the burning and sinking of the side-wheel steamboat Sultana, will feature a space dedicated to the story of the gym and the old high school. Visitors will see photos of basketball teams, letter jackets and cheerleader uniforms, Kollath told the Picket in an email.

The current Marion high school is in another part of the bedroom community, which is across the Mississippi River from Memphis, Tenn. The gym is the only part of the old high school to survive.

Crews are building a more dynamic Sultana Disaster Museum than the current small location a few blocks away. Marion, close to where the Sultana caught fire in the Mississippi, will honor soldiers who died in the disaster and residents who helped save others who were plunged into the river in late April 1865.

About 1,200 passengers and crew perished. Hundreds of Federal soldiers, many recently freed from Confederate prisons, including Andersonville and Cahaba, were on their way home.

Museum officials say the exhibits will build off the full story of the Sultana, with information about the importance of the river, Confederate POW camps, the bribery and corruption that led to the overcrowding of the boat, the explosion and fire, and the creation of the Sultana Survivors Association. The vessel’s boilers are considered to be the main cause of the catastrophe.

Recalling the smell of popcorn and sweat 

Harper's Weekly illustration of the conflagration (Library of Congress)
The state of Arkansas and the federal Public Works Administration built the gymnasium-auditorium in 1938-1939. School board President J.F. Fogleman presided over its dedication.

Musical selections were performed by the Marion and Earle Glee Clubs. Following the program, three intrasquad games were played,” according to a brief history of the venue.

An article on the Living New Deal website describes the building:

“The structure is a handsome example of brick Moderne architecture, with two faux stone entrances. It is single-story with large window and minimal decoration, except for the bas-relief columns and arch around the entrances and two sculptural scrolls along the central roof line. The interior of the gymnasium appears largely unchanged from its original form.”

The gym got off to a notable start after it opened, hosting a February 1940 game between the Southwestern College Lynx of Memphis and the Louisiana State University Tigers.

The University of Arkansas Razorbacks, on their way to what is now called the Final Four, beat Southwestern at the Marion gym in December 1940. (At left, a May 1939 article on the dedication of the gym, click to enlarge)

This, of course, was before segregation, which came to Crittenden County in 1970-1971. Until then, Black athletes played at Phelix School in nearby Sunset.

I asked Fogleman what happened to that gym. “It was sold and it is more or less tearing itself down -- nature. It’s sad to see,” he said.

Fogleman, 69 and a retired circuit court judge, said he gave his first speech in the auditorium when he was in sixth grade.

“I remember basketball practice as exhausting (line drills, and bleachers). When I go into the main part of the gym, I am reminded of the smell of popcorn,” the 6-footer wrote in an email.

“Prior to (demolition) work, when I entered the area that will now house the administrative offices and the classroom I could still smell a combination of sweat and liniment (Atomic Balm).”

Gym before 2022 construction began and a concert in the 1960s-70s (Sultana Disaster Museum)
The last high school game in the building was 1974-75. A youth sports league played games in the building until 2020.

The elementary school across the street also used the building until 2020. 

Fewer artifacts, more storytelling 

While the bleachers have been repurposed for a decorative element, the wooden floor remains in the gym. Most of it will be covered by a large-scale version of the Sultana and other exhibits, says Fogleman (right, below).

Kollath, who formerly led the Stax Museum of American Soul Museum in Memphis, told the Daily Memphian the remains of the Sultana lie about 20 feet below a soybean field east of Marion, which has about 13,000 residents.

The permanent gallery about the Sultana disaster will open in April 2026. The society and museum are still raising money to finish the project. Unlike Stax, the Sultana Disaster Museum has few original items to display.

“It is not going to be as artifact heavy as a lot of museums would be. But we have great storytelling,” said Kollath.

Gene Salecker, Sultana author, collector and museum supporter, has amassed a large cache of items, many associated with disaster survivor associations and their reunions.

The museum will use modern technology and a scale replica of the 270-foot boat to tell the story under the 35-foot ceiling of the old gym on Old Military Road.

The Sultana had left Memphis and caught fire in the middle of the night, with its flaming wreckage drifting to the Arkansas side.

The story of the Sultana runs deep in the blood of Judge Fogleman and his cousin Frank, who was Marion's mayor for many years.

Their great-great-grandfather, John Fogleman -- after lashing two or three logs together -- poled his way through the current of the Mississippi River and toward survivors.

The Fogleman and Barton families, descendants of local men who were part of that rescue effort, donated $100,000 for the project.

The new museum met another milestone recently, with its name added to the gym’s exterior. (Photo Sultana Disaster Museum)

 “We are the only museum in the world that will have the word disaster in it,” quipped Kollath.

May 2025 photo of the gym interior, future site of permanent gallery (Sultana Disaster Museum)