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Blue Ridge Parkway Overlook, Groundhog Mountain, Meadows of Dan, VA
Blue Ridge Parkway Overlook at Groundhog Mountain, Meadows of Dan, VA
June 2025: Vol 2, #6
Howdy, and welcome to the June 2025 Blue Ridge Tales newsletter edition. This month, I'm tracing the arc of change across Virginia—from revolution-era intrigue and frontier justice to boomtown ambition and small-town reinvention. These stories remind us how the past leaves its mark, whether carved into courthouse records or winding along a riverside trail.
Wayne

Loyalists, Lead Mines, and Lynch Law

Lynch Law Col. Charles Lynch
In the mountains of Virginia during the Revolution, justice didn’t always wait for courtrooms. Sometimes, it showed up with a rope and a warning. That’s how the phrase “lynch law” got started—right here in western Virginia. The lead mines near what’s now Wytheville were essential to the Patriot war effort. They produced the bullets. No lead, no firepower. That made …

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John Wyatt: The Botetourt Barrel-Maker Spy

Barrel Maker at Work
The British called it a gentleman’s war. That might’ve been true in the drawing rooms of Philadelphia or London. But out here—in the rolling hills of Botetourt (pronounced “baa-tuh-taat”) County, Virginia—it was anything but. That’s where you’d find John Wyatt, bending over hoop iron with his cooper’s hammer, trying to feed his family while the colonies caught fire. He wasn’t …

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Roanoke, VA: The Town That Skipped a Century

Roanoke, VA, in the late nineteenth century.
A Valley with a Funny Name While America was toasting its new transcontinental railroad in Utah on May 10, 1869, Roanoke, VA, was just a mountain crossroads called Big Lick. Named for the large natural salt deposit, this lick attracted wildlife in droves: buffalo, deer, and elk, which came to lick the mineral-rich soil. The “big” in Big Lick distinguished …

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From Thread to Trail: The Rebirth of Fries, Virginia

Fries dam and mill
It's a quiet morning in Fries, Virginia, and the New River is doing what it's always done—slipping past the banks with ageless calm. The cotton mill that gave the town its name and purpose is long gone, but you'd swear you can still hear the echoes. Not of the looms—they stopped decades ago—but of something softer: hikers crunching gravel on …

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Well, that's it for this edition. I hope you enjoyed it. If you would like me to cover a particular topic, drop me a line at the address below. And don't forget to "like" our Facebook page.
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