David Burton Flint Colonial Books

    Back in July of 2006, I bought our 1860 farm house, and coming from a 4000 square foot home, to a 1222 square foot home was a challenge for my wife and I. I also purchased 6 acres with it, and also on the property was an 1860 log barn.
    Now I can finally say that I have re-stored this 1860 home, which could have been a weigh station/tavern for the many stagecoach, and wagons that stopped here. The path, known as the Stagecoach Road in front of my house crosses White Oak Creek, and the onto another path they followed along side the Big Ivy River for about a half-mile, then crossed the river. There is a rusted old cable lieing in the mud that once was a foot bridge to the other side. 
    In front of my home was the original trail from Tennessee to Asheville, NC. It is still a path, no gravel, just hard packed ground. They use to rest here at my house, and drink from the cold spring water that still flows non-stop today next the my log barn, and they would change out the horses to begin their journey into Asheville. I have pictures on my web site of this trail that followed the Big Ivy River.
    My log barn was built next to a natural spring stream that comes from my property out of the rocky ground, and the huge boulders that are there near my walking path. I can assure you, this spring has never dried up, and it's better then any high dollar water on the market. The log barn is two levels, with my workshop on one, and my Guinea Hens I raise underneath, as well as two horse stalls connected to the log barn.
   I have put on a new forest green metal roof, and a new kitchen, and new paint to blend in with the hills, and trees, but I won't touch my claw foot tub in my bathroom, as it is in beautiful shape. There are two back to back fireplaces in my house, one with a gas Jotal stove, and the one bedroom, an open fireplace, which we use every night in the fall, and winter. To lie in bed with a warm fire on a cold snowy night in the these mountains is heaven. I restored the original wainscoting ceilings, and the original wide plank floors and hand rubbed Antique Oil into the T&G wood on the walls.
   I feel the presence of all those tired travelers who use to stop here, and eat, and rest before the long journey along the river, and across the river.  With the many walking paths that were here, I have re-stored them as once were old logging roads, and where cattle, and the horses once grazed. In clearing another walking path that leads to an open meadow with beautiful views of the surrounding rugged rocky hills with the huge pines, and hardwood trees I came upon one ancient grave. No fancy headstone, or markings, but a large headstone, and the ground was covered in finely placed stones covering this last resting place from some early settler. I'm trying to find out who possibly it could be, so I cleared the thorn bushes around it, and like to visit this grave in this open meadow on the side hill.
    My wife and I like to walk along the river, and our walking paths with our dogs Moonie,and Guss two border collies, and listen, and watch the Redtail Hawks catch the wind, as they glide over Copper Head Cliffs, and the high rocky cliffs next to my neighbors log cabin near the river where a large outcropping, or over hang once protected the wild animals, and where they found a dead confederate soldier near the end of the Civil War. There are arrow heads in these cliffs, as I have a very large one which I found next to my log barn.
    We sit on our long porch, and listen to the small stream rush by, and over the many boulders as it rushes down to the Big Ivy,and no traffic, or neighbors around us.
    With the tall pines, and Black Walnut trees, and tall White Oaks as well as the huge Ash trees, there is peace here. The inspiration I get living here will give me hundreds of pages to write for the adventure books that are in my head until I put them to paper.
    Many times I feel what my ancestor Robert Flint must have felt like back in 1749 when he settled upon his land in upstate New York near Cherry Valley. I feel his presence every day, and know the feeling that he must have had. I have found my freedom here, and what my soul, and heart needed. At night we can hear the large Owl calling, and even see him glide through the tall timbers, and to land upon his favorite dead tall pine behind our house on the hill, and to begin his calming sound again. Some nights we can hear the howling of coyotes, as they roam through the hills near the river.
    During the daylight hours, the crane will fly over the house to start his daily feeding in the small stream, and work his way to the Big Ivy. Deer, turkeys are always near, and enjoy seeing them walking near the house, and the log barn, and disappear up the wide path into the hills.

    I have said many times to everyone, if the foreign leaders came here to hold a meeting out under one of my giant oaks or one of my huge pines on a wool blankets, and talked, the world would be a better place, and maybe, just maybe they could feel, and see what I do everyday, and put their hatred aside for one day.