Rooted in History

In the remote community of Boogertown, a narrow gravel road threads its way to the end of Wilson Hollow and a farm cradled in seclusion a few miles from Gatlinburg, Tennessee. In 1870, one month before President Ulysses S. Grant declared Christmas a federal holiday, Civil War veteran William Wilson purchased the land for $150. A year later he and his bride, Jemima Narcissus, began eking out a living on their homestead. After decades of productivity, woodlands encroached and pastures creeped into fallowness. Today, the land that has united family for five generations has been revived by the Wilsons’ great-great grandson Hal, and his wife Sandy. It wasn’t some elaborate makeover that breathed new life into the farm; it was Christmas trees.

The inspiration for Wilson Glyn Christmas Tree Farm came in a brightly-wrapped package; a Christmas gift from the Wilsons’ daughter Kellie. Hal and Sandy were fascinated by the gift, Robert Wray’s, Christmas Trees for Pleasure and Profit, and before long they were picturing Christmas trees growing on the rims and ridges surrounding their home in Boogertown. “Our dream,” Hal said, “was to create a Christmas tree farm as a way to preserve our ancestors’ legacy, to hold on to the land, and to share its unspoiled natural beauty with others.” 

Wilson Glyn is a lovely place nestled in a community with a somewhat unlovely name. No one is sure how Boogertown came by its peculiar name—there are some interesting tales floating around—but many years ago the late John Parris, columnist for the Asheville Citizen-Times, wrote about unusual place names saying, “Mountain men with imagination and a sense of humor named the peaks and creeks, ridges and branches, gaps and coves of the Great Smokies … Many of the names are unlovely, but they are original and they are honest.” To an outsider, Boogertown might conjure more thoughts of ghosts and goblins than Christmas trees, but for Hal’s family, it is the foundation of their heritage. 

The Wilsons are as rooted to the land as the Christmas trees they grow. They have researched their ancestors and explored the land. They have memorized the well-trodden paths to their own colorfully-named special places—Rintha High Top, Copperhead Holler, Right Hand New Ground—and have yielded to the land’s familial tug. Visitors who come to Wilson Glyn in search of Christmas trees aren’t swayed by that innate attraction, but many find reason to return.

John and Jessica Wear and their daughters Ryan and Avery have made Wilson Glyn an annual tradition. “The tree is what we go to Wilson Glyn for, but we leave with so much more,” Jessica said. “As Christmas gets closer the girls get super excited and start asking when we’re going to the farm for our tree. We love the old-fashioned atmosphere. It’s a peaceful place and a meaningful way to start the holiday season.” 

Ryan and Avery enjoy Santa’s sleigh, taking turns on the tire swing, and scrambling through the woods and around the barn. They appreciate Wilson Glyn’s uniqueness, and have a soft spot for the goats and sheep—appropriately named Holly, Jingle Belle, Merry and Bright—but at eight and ten years old it may be awhile before they understand that what lies at the heart of that uniqueness is the intimacy of the hollow and the farm’s evocative structures like Hal’s boyhood home. 

Hal learned the value of hard work and developed his God-given talents for design and construction in and around this 1940s cottage which has aged into a weather-beaten accessory to the steep ridges behind it. With its faded plank siding, tin roof streaked with rust the color of oak leaves in autumn, and mysterious two front doors—a curious design Hal thinks might be related to at-home funerals—it is a poignant reminder of bygone days. 

Growing up in a time when necessity was a great teacher, if something was broken Hal fixed it. If it needed planting, harvesting, chopped down or built up, he did it. During his teens he and a friend dismantled old log buildings that were quite common in the area. “I learned a lot as we reconstructed those buildings,” Hal said. “We were repurposing long before it was trendy.” 

Hal is still building and designing, and much of what he creates has an interesting backstory, but he’s reluctant to take credit. Hal said, “Sandy’s the one with all the great ideas around here. I’m just the doer of those ideas!” Hal’s ingenuity, and even his musical ability—he plays banjo, guitar and harmonica—showed up early on, but he was in his 50s before he realized he had a knack for growing Christmas trees. 

“In 2009 we cleared overgrown pastures and woodland and planted 200 Fraser fir seedlings as an experiment,” Hal said. Fraser firs typically are cultivated at elevations above 3,000 feet in the southern Appalachians, so to grow the trees in Boogertown Hal had to be part scientist, part farmer, and part dreamer.  

“We really shouldn’t be able to grow Fraser firs here,” he said. “With our elevation ranging from 1,500 to 2,000 feet it was risky, but we have a cold hollow with a north face so when our test trees did well, we knew we were on to something. We have what I call a micro-climate. The big ridges to our east and north greatly influence our weather. There are times when we get five inches of snow, compared to a quarter inch in Pigeon Forge just six miles away.” 

Hal and Sandy were eager to add Christmas tree farmer to their already long list of obligations. Like Hal, Sandy grew up on a farm and is no stranger to hard work. She’s a willing assistant, but most of the tree tending is left to Hal. “If Hal could have made a living as a farmer, that’s what he would have been,” Sandy said. “This lets him enjoy farming   without relying on it to pay the bills. I try to keep our online presence updated, and during our annual sales period I focus on keeping     the refreshments and helping our visitors feel welcome. Hopefully, by this time I’ve finished all the evergreen wreaths and garlands, and have the lights and decorations up. It’s a lot of hard work, but worth every minute. I just wish we’d realized this opportunity existed when we were younger!” 

Every year since those first seedlings surprised them by surviving, the Wilsons have planted at least 800 additional trees. Along with the Fraser fir, they grow Canaan fir, concolor fir, Norway spruce, and white pine. Wilson Glyn is a choose-and-cut farm, but they also offer the convenience of larger, pre-cut trees for those who want the Christmas tree farm experience without wielding a saw.

With sap under his nails and a rich layer of duff beneath his boots, Hal is cultivating a dream. All planting is done by hand and takes place in March and April; no expensive machinery required. Hal steps his spade into the ground, raises a slice of earth, drops in a seedling, and replaces the soil with as little disruption as possible. There are on-going chores like watering and weed control, and in midsummer he prunes, or shears the trees. Young trees may require only the tops pruned, but around the fourth year they are sheared with a long knife which improves form and thickness; two must-haves for discriminating tree buyers. “It takes seven to nine years to grow a Christmas tree,” Hal said, “so tree farmers have to be patient people.”  

Wilson Glyn serves mostly local customers, but there are the occasional tourists willing to drive home with a tree strapped to their car. “Some folks, even tourists, are repeat customers so we try to have something different each year. It might be nothing more than a wagon or old farm sled we can use for hay rides,” Hal said. “But this year I’ve built an outdoor fireplace. The fireplace is special because the stones came from homes destroyed in the massive wildfires that swept through our area in November, 2016.”

After the Wilson’s construction company’s clients had salvaged everything they wanted from their burned-out homes, the stones were left, obviously, but sometimes other things turned up in the rubble. “When we cleared the lots, anything we found was set aside for the owner to see since we couldn’t judge if something might have meaning to someone who had lost everything. Some of those rescued items—cast iron skillets, tools, even a gun barrel—are displayed around the fireplace. It’s our simple way of honoring those who lost their homes, those who lost their lives,” Hal said. “The fires got very close to us and our family. It was a traumatic time in the Smokies. We want to remember, and every time the flame is lit, we will.”

Along with the house Hal shared with his parents and eight siblings, another focal point, and the hub of Christmas-time festivities at Wilson Glyn, is the cantilever barn. This unique form of architecture had long intrigued Hal, and he spent hours in Cades Cove studying the barn at Tipton Place. “There is some ancient engineering there,” he said. “I studied how the cantilevers were braced, took photos and studied them, then designed and built a slightly scaled-down version using locally-sourced trees and reclaimed lumber. It looks so authentic people often ask how long it’s been here.”

The distinguishing feature of the barn is the overhang, or cantilever. The barns commonly had a storage loft larger than the two log cribs below. The unusual design is thought to be German in origin, brought to the Appalachians when Pennsylvanian-Germans migrated to the area. The cantilevers provided shelter for animals and equipment, and protected the supporting cribs and their contents from the weather by funneling rain away. It was a clever design for the Smoky Mountains where annual rainfall ranges from 55 inches in the lowlands to 85 inches at Clingman’s Dome, the highest point in the national park.

Much of Wilson Glyn’s appeal lies in these history-inspired structures—and the timeless joy of cutting down a Christmas tree—but also in the burble of Wilson Creek, the red, faded-to-pink ‘53 Ford pickup that’s been put out to pasture near the barn, the vintage sleds mounted to a barn wall, and the nose-tingling aroma of wood smoke, spicy cider and freshly-cut evergreens. The back-to-nature vibe de-stresses weary Christmas shoppers, their cares seemingly lost in the moment. Instead of obsessing over their phones, their social media becomes personal interaction and connecting with nature. 

“People definitely have their cell phones out,” said Ruth Watson, “but mostly for the photo ops! It’s such a homey place; it reminds me of when I was growing up. Back then we always cut the top out of a cedar for our Christmas tree. It was prickly, but oh, it smelled so good! There’s nothing like the smell of a fresh Christmas tree.”  

Ruth and husband Keith—coincidentally members of a band called Boogertown Gap—come to Wilson Glyn mainly because they enjoy the people and the quaint setting. Keith, whose father was in the Air Force said, “There usually wasn’t anywhere we could cut down a Christmas tree so I grew up with artificial trees. This is a wonderful place and a family experience we treasure.” 

Hal and Sandy have seen tears well up in the eyes of a Korean War veteran when one taste of Sandy’s hot chocolate reminded him of his mother’s. They had one customer come out of the woods dragging a “wild” hemlock instead of a cultivated tree. They’ve seen a beautifully-dressed little girl go from immaculate to grubby then exclaim, “You’ve got the best dirt!” But their greatest joy is seeing countless families make lasting memories.

Of the farm’s original 300 acres, 126 are still owned by the Wilson family. Hal and Sandy have devoted only six of those for Christmas trees. That might not seem like much, but planting 1,000 or more trees per acre is typical. Visitors will find trees in several areas around the farm and in all stages of growth, many still years from harvesting. “If someone doesn’t find their tree near the barn where it’s level, they may find it on one of the slopes or at the gap,” Hal said. “It’s a quarter mile climb, but it’s about as close as you can get to that age-old tradition of heading into the forest to find a tree.”

The remote location may be one of the farm’s greatest assets, but the hills are natural barriers to expanding parking and improving ingress and egress. With those limitations the Wilsons don’t expect to be major players in the Christmas tree business, but they do expect to work hard at providing unforgettable experiences.

Wilson Glyn is an idyllic setting for starting, or continuing, one of the most endearing traditions of the season. Even on the coldest days there is unmistakable warmth in the hollow. Hal and Sandy, and the entire Wilson clan, possess endless good cheer and energy. Live, bluegrass-style Christmas music on Saturdays, provided by the Wilson family—Hal included if he’s not netting a tree or handing out saws—keeps people lingering around the fire long after they’ve found what they came for.

When Hal’s ancestors settled in Boogertown, survival often was a daily struggle, but the land provided. A passage in Florence Cope Bush’s acclaimed memoir, Dorie: Woman of the Mountains, gives a brief glimpse into the community during the early 1900s and shows how the land did provide. Bush’s mother, Dora Woodruff Cope said, “Chestnut trees grew along the road. Filling our hands and pockets with nuts, we’d go into Lige Wilson’s little store to trade [Elijah was Hal’s great-great uncle] … we traded chestnuts for slates, pencils, and sometimes we’d get candy to go with our lunch.”  

Neighborhood stores like Elijah’s are long gone, the chestnut trees wiped out by fungal disease. But when those trees were in Boogertown, they were essential; for food, fuel, furniture, structures, even handles for the felling axes that hewed down those trees. Could Hal’s great-great grandparents ever have imagined a time when trees would be grown on their land solely for decorative purposes?

“This venture has deepened our connection to the land,” Hal said. “Through the vision and values our ancestors passed down to us—and with our Christmas trees—we hope to enrich the lives of everyone who visits Wilson Glyn.”

Wilson Glyn’s Hot Chocolate 

For a rich, creamy-dreamy batch of hot chocolate like they serve at Wilson Glyn, combine the following ingredients in a large slow cooker on low setting.

Serves 10-12

• 12 oz. bag milk chocolate chips
• 6 cups whole milk
• 1 can sweetened condensed milk
• 1 cup evaporated milk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 2 pints heavy whipping cream

Stir every 15 minutes until heated and well blended; approximately 2 hours.

Find a farm:

• Approximately 15,000 Christmas tree farms, many of them choose-and-cut farms, are scattered across the country
• Some farms offer pictures with Santa, petting zoos, hay rides, and other family-friendly activities
• Many states have a Christmas tree association; a good online source for locating a tree farm. The National Christmas Tree Association has a tree locator map, and state agriculture websites like picktnproducts.org often list tree farms
• Before driving to any Christmas tree farm, many of which are family businesses, Hal Wilson suggests calling ahead or checking a farm’s website. Weather, tree shortage, or family emergencies could force unexpected closure 

Did You Know?

• North Carolina is the number two producer of Christmas trees in the country; Oregon claims the top spot
• Fraser fir was named for Scottish botanist John Fraser who explored the southern Appalachians in the 1700s. One of the most popular Christmas trees, it has graced the White House’s Blue Room more than any other 
• Canaan fir is pronounced “Ka-naan,” and is named for a valley in West Virginia. Relatively new to the Christmas tree market, it has a high-elevation growth area that limits accessibility 
• Concolor fir, known as the “white” fir, has needles with a tangerine-like fragrance, but the wood is almost odorless which made it an excellent material for tubs in which to store butter
• Balsam fir was used medicinally by Native Americans and a resin balm was applied to wounds during the Civil War. The sap was once used in mounting specimens for microscopic study
• White pine has been called Sequoia of the Northeast. Colonists used it for structures, fuel and shipbuilding. Excessive logging in the past destroyed much of the Eastern white pine forests  
• Scotch pine is the national tree of Scotland. The needles often stay attached even when dried out—but don’t let that happen!  
• Virginia pine, a newcomer at many Christmas tree lots, has been extremely effective in strip mine site reclamation. It has a yellowish winter color, but some trees are actually dyed green before being shipped
• Colorado blue spruce was a traditional medicinal plant of the Navajo. Its color makes it a standout in landscapes, but it isn’t recommended for homes with small children; the sharp needles can injure little fingers
• Norway spruce has cones that cling to the weeping branches like ornaments. It is most often chosen to be erected at Rockefeller Center in New York City every year. This tree makes beautiful music, too; the wood is used in some stringed instruments
• Leyland cypress, a popular landscape tree, is a cross between Alaskan and Monterey cypress. As hybrids they do not occur naturally but are propagated by root cuttings
• Eastern red cedar is actually a member of the juniper family. A traditional Christmas tree in Appalachian households, its distinct fragrance has repelled moths and lined hope chests for centuries. Several northern pencil companies established wood mills in Tennessee to be near the abundant trees. Half a dozen pencil manufacturers operated in Bedford county alone where in the 1950s Shelbyville was dubbed Pencil City, USA