Noccalula Falls in Gadsden, Alabama is a scenic 90-foot-tall point of scenic beauty. It’s also considered a very romantic spot. A place where a young man might take his best girl on a date. One reason it’s considered so romantic is that a long time ago, the beautiful Cherokee daughter of a great Cherokee Chief had fallen in love with a handsome Cherokee Prince. The son of the afore mentioned Chief. But as it happens, the Chief had already made a deal with a nearby Creek Chief in which he promised his beautiful daughter to this Creek Chief’s son instead. This did not go well. The heartbroken princess went over to the place she and her lover had spooned so much and she jumped.

Sometime down the long road of time, the citizens of Gadsden, Alabama loving this old story of romance by the beautiful falls erected a statue of the pretty Indian maiden, poised atop the falls. Ready to jump. So, what has this got to do with my story? Nothing. It’s just one of those “just sayin’” stories.

I also want to point out that these falls in this beautiful park is where my Grandpa James Thomas Bullard asked my Grandma, Ruby Cleveland Smith, to marry him. He chose New Year’s Day 1900 as the day to marry. And yes, she accepted. J.T. and Ruby had been “seeing” each other for quite a while. T h e i r dating and social meetings took place at a nearby Methodist Church. And it is said their wedding was out by the beautiful falls January 1, 1900.

Meanwhile, J.T.’s dad, another James (Jimmy) Bullard, had a habit of traveling out west to a place called Oklahoma Territory where he would rent land, plant cotton, make a good crop and in the fall bring his profits back home to Alabama. Great-Grandpa Jimmy loved Oklahoma. He bragged that the rich earth of Eastern Oklahoma would grow anything. He said there were no boll weevils and if one planted an orchard, there were no bugs or worms to mess it up. So it was little wonder that after Grandpa and Ruby got married that they too were destined for Oklahoma. It was a perfect place for a fresh start.

And yes, they did. Eventually J.T. and Ruby loaded up their wagon and, along with several other Bullards, they headed West. Westward to a place called Leflore County in Indian Territory. As it turned out, after suffering the hardships of traveling weeks by wagon, they all found good farms and everything seemingly going along perfect. It wasn’t. After a few years, Grandma Sullivan was not happy. She did not like it. Said she was old and would be dying soon and she wanted to die in Alabama like God intended. This Oklahoma place might be good for cotton and orchards, she supposedly said, but not for me. She was also nervous because there were lots of Indians around.

It caused quite a ruckus and, of course, they had to make plans to get grandma back to Alabama. All of them would go. Just as they had come. A wagon train. Another thing here. All of the other Bullards seemed to have a lot of confidence in my grandpa’s ability to guide and lead. J.T. was known as a tough old boy and it turned out he “had” to go to protect the travelers as they returned to Alabama. Grandma Ruby herself told me many years later, it was a hard country to cross between Oklahoma and Alabama. “Criminals all over the place.”

Also, Ruby and J.T. had had my Aunt Willie and my dad. Born in Indian Territory. It took about six weeks to make the trip. Grandma Sullivan (seems like she was a problem) had her own little buggy with a good seat and she drove it back. “Can’t ride all that way in a wagon,” she said. That story alone is a long one but let me say that they all made it. My grandparents sold their wagon and horses and other stuff and, in the spring, rode a train back to Wister. A place they stayed for several decades and raised up about nine kids. And as for me, I am glad they made it OK. I am attaching a picture of these lovebirds from their wedding day.

Have a good week and remember to go to your church Sunday.

Wayne Bullard

cwaynebullard@gmail.com