The Poet Behind the Plow

The tumbling waters of Wolf Creek have flowed down from Neel’s Gap for a century since September 14, 1917, when acclaimed poet Byron Herbert Reece was born in a one-room hand-hewn log cabin in a field now covered by the waters of Vogel Lake. 

Four volumes of haunting poetry and two novels written by the farmer-poet continue to captivate readers who appreciate his old-fashioned, finely-crafted ballads. In February 1921 his father, Juan Reece, bought a few acres about a mile down the valley from the cabin. On the land was an old house where Reece’s mother, Emma, had been raised. It had been built by Emma’s grandparents under constant guard against Indian attack before the removal of the Cherokee. 

Blood Mountain loomed behind the old weather-beaten house, and Slaughter Mountain often left the front in shadow. The nearest neighbor was ten miles away. At the age of eight, Reece joined Salem Methodist Church near his home. The Bible became the first source and a dominant factor in his writing, even when he chose to disagree with portions of it.

Before he entered high school, Reece had already become an avid reader and was especially interested in poetry. During a winter storm, he would take a kerosene lantern to bed and read for 16 hours. Encouraged by his mother, he began to set down phrases by firelight after his homework and farm chores were done. At school, he excelled in literary subjects.

In the fall of 1935, Reece entered Young-Harris College but was forced to drop out to help on the farm because of illness in his family. He later told a newspaper writer, “The leeway between us and starvation was narrow. I had to farm.” As Reece plowed the fields he recited passages he had learned and sang mountain ballads, which his forbearers had passed on to him. By the end of 1938 he had written and published in poetry journals and national magazines a total of 31 poems.

After three years, his return to college was made possible by a scholarship and being permitted to alternate a quarter’s work for a dollar a day on the college farm with class attendance the following quarter. In 1939, Ralph McGill, editor and publisher of the Atlanta Constitution, met Reece while visiting the campus. McGill took an interest Reece’s work and their friendship lasted the rest of their lives. Reece did not graduate from college because he refused to complete required courses in math and French.

After electricity came to the north Georgia mountains, the family acquired a radio which delighted Reece since the radio would pick up WQXR—the first commercial classical radio station—in New York City. In 1943, Jesse Stuart, known for writing short stories, novels, and poetry about Appalachia, was so moved by Reece’s ballad, “Lest the Lonesome Bird,” published in the Prairie Schooner, that he wrote his fellow author asking if he had ever had a book published, and inquiring as to whether he could send him some other poems.

Reece’s reply to Stuart indicated he had not published a book, but included a bundle of poems. Stuart read the first one while still in the small, crowded store-post office. Then, unable to wait any longer, he sat down on a box of potatoes and read them all. Stuart asked Reece if he might take his poems to New York to allow his publishers to read them. He urged Reece to come up to see him in Kentucky, but Reece’s reluctance to leave his ailing parents, as well as the pressures of the farm, prevented them from meeting until several years later.

The editors at E.P. Dutton and Company immediately agreed that Reece’s poems were good, but the marketing of poetry at the time was not profitable. Stuart insisted. Feeling a responsibility to publish talents that would establish better standards of literature, Dutton agreed even though books of poetry brought little money. On his 28th birthday, Reece was mowing hay and was called into the house, and was delighted to find that the mailman had delivered several advance copies of Ballad of Bones. After lunch, he returned to his team of mules. 

The forthcoming reviews were favorable and prominent American poets offered high praise. Upon receiving the initial modest royalty check, he drove to Blairsville to get a tire for his 16-year-old Model-A. Most of Reece’s acquaintances were unaware of his recognition. When he handed the mechanic, a long-time friend, the endorsed check, his friend asked, “What’s this for?” When he responded it was a royalty check on a book, the mechanic asked, “Did you write a book?” There was no further discussion. 

The modest mountain poet was unprepared for the reaction to the publicity that followed. He was deluged with letters from all over the country including proposals of marriage from more than 150 women. But the anticipated monetary windfall was never forthcoming.

“I guess I’m lucky that half of me is hillbilly farmer, I am never at loss for something to talk about when I meet a man in the broad road headed nowhere in particular,” Reece wrote in a letter to his friends, writer Wilma Dykeman and her husband James Stokely. “I get a kick out of seeing how they accept me as one of themselves and ignore altogether the alien man in me who is concerned with books and music. But it is something disconcerting,” he wrote. 

The correspondence was dated “Toward the first of June.” During the summer of 1951, Juan Reece was so ill that all the farm work fell on his son. And with his mother suffering from tuberculosis, Reece was in a state of desperation and easily fell behind on writing deadlines. Reece was struck with the disease also and entered the state tuberculosis sanatorium at Rome, Georgia, in 1954. Once he began to heal, he returned home and resumed writing. During his career he was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, earned two Guggenheim awards, and served a writer-in-residence at UCLA, Emory University, and Young-Harris College.

During his final years, he also taught classes at Young-Harris College to earn extra money. On June 3, 1958, Reece committed suicide at the age of 40. He was found in his apartment, with Mozart on the phonograph. In 2003, the Byron Herbert Reece Society was formed. A year later, the Reece family farm was acquired by Union County and leased to the society, which has created a museum and interpretive center commemorating the poet’s life and work.

Go visit

The Byron Herbert Reece Farm and Heritage Center consists of a visitor’s center, poetry trail, Reece’s writing studio, corn crib, smokehouse, springhouse and the main barn, which houses exhibits and the Reece Gallery. Get a copy of the Reece Ramble—a self-guided driving tour paired with Reece poetry selections—that winds through the landscape and landmarks that inspired Reece’s writing.

Located in Union County, Georgia, approximately 9 miles south of Blairsville on U.S. 129, or 1 mile north of Vogel State Park. Open April-November. Admission is free.

reecefarm.org.