JUDGE L. CANEY SLONE MAKES NEWS
By Gerald Griffin
The Courier-Journal
East Kentucky Bureau

 

     Reprinted from a courier-Journal article published May 18, 1952. A man of many parts is frail, good-humored L. Caney Slone, o Hindman, proud chieftain of a mountain clan of virile men and fertile women. Approaching 94, he has outlived his first wife and eight of his 10 children, but his name is carried on by 278 living descendants, even unto the fifth generation.  The old gentleman claims to be the oldest practicing attorney in Kentucky, and believes he is the only county judge pro tem in the country serving under his grandson.  He has held that office since his grandson, Merd Slone, was elected Knott County Judge three years ago.  And its not just a nominal office.  When Merd is out of the county, his grandpa takes over the bench and tries cases.  His last case in court was one of the kind that comes up in court so often in the mountains-two men lawing each other over the ownership of a nondescript hound dog.  Tempers were at boiling point when Judge Slone decided the case to everybody's satisfaction. 
     The old judge broke an arm and a leg in a fall last year.  The arm knit perfectly, but he still had to get about on crutches before illness forced him to stay at home. He has remained in his bed most of the time since he became ill, but he got out of there March 22 when old Troublesome Creek, true to its name went on a rampage, surged over its banks and surrounded his modest frame house with muddy water four feet deep.
     Then a few of his descendants backed up a high-wheeled truck to his front porch and carted him off to the home of his son, I.B. Slone, on the high ground up the road a piece.  But as soon as the water went down he made them take him right back to his house on the left bank of Troublesome, just outside of Hindman. 
     There were plenty of grandchildren to carry the old man.  In fact, there are enough of them to move half a county.  He boasts168 living grandchildren besides 80 living great-grandchildren and 30 great-great-grandchildren, and every one of them has a tender affection for the white-haired, white mustached head of the populous Slone clan. One a year the descendants gather at the judge's home to honor him on his birthday, October 28, an even to which he looks forward from one anniversary to the next.  The birthday party he gave last year, when he reached 93, must have been a sight to behold. to hear him tell about it.  The party began at midmorning and continued until dark, culminating in an old fashioned Regular Baptist prayer meeting with kinsmen and friends all over the place.
They left him enough birthday present to stock a men's clothing store with ties, sox, hats and shirts, besides something like $400 in cash.  In return, he fed all of them, with hog meat the piece de resistance.
     "It shore was a sight, " the old man chuckled.  "They were lined up way up that road.  They filled up the house and all of the yard. I butchered a 400-pound hog just for that one dinner, and they ate up every bite of it.  Fact is, I guess some of them didn't get any meat."
Then he chuckled again behind his big mustache, he expects to kill a bigger hog next October.
     Age hasn't impaired the judge's faculties much.  He has become hard of hearing, but he can see with glasses, well enough to read his favorite daily newspaper and he doesn't have any trouble manipulating his false teeth.  His mind is as clear as a bell and he has a remarkable memory.
     Born in 1858, he can remember Civil War soldiers stopping at his father's house.  They were Confederate soldiers, no doubt, as his father was in the Rebel army.  That could be one reason why L. Caney slone has been a red hot Democrat all his life.  He was born and grew up on the Right Fork of Beaver Creek at a place now called Pippa Passes.  There wasn't even a settlement there then.  His county of Knott was a part of Floyd Count then, before it was formed to honor Kentucky's Gov. J. Proctor Knott in 1884.
     Like other youngsters in the backwoods, the judge attended a little one-room with a dirt floor and puncheon benches.  But he picked up enough learning to start teaching school himself when he was 17.  He taught school for 22 years and still draws a $40 a month pension as a retired teacher.
     Although he has retired as a teacher, Judge slone isn't even thinking about retiring as a lawyer.  Even during the three months that he has been bedfast, the old man has been fairly busy, mostly with divorce cases.
     Far be it from L. Caney Slone to brag on himself.  He lets others do it for him."The judges tell me" he glowed, "that I'm just about the best divorce lawyer in the state."But I always take the woman's side in a divorce case.  This is, most of the time I do.  But once in a while I represent the man.  You know sometimes women get so hard on us men that we just have to get shed of them." Then he laughed out loud and so did Mrs. Slone, his second wife, whom he married when he was 75.
     After he quit teaching school, the judge dipped into politics.  He's been circuit court clerk, county court clerk, master commissioner, and county assessor as well as judge pro term.It was during his first term as circuit clerk, more than half a century ago, that he decided to become a lawyer.  He didn't attend a law school, but read a lot of law books. 
The old judge has done a lot of things to make money.  He once drove a mail route between Hindman and Hazard while operating a general store. He was a successful merchant, according to his county judge grandson, and he accumulated a big tract of land.  It extended for a mile and a half on both sides of the road leading into Hindman from the east. But he gave it all to his children.When the judge acquired his land, long before there was  traversable road in the county and there was no railroad, his acreage was covered with virgin timber.  Beautiful big white oaks and yellow poplars.  He went into the timber business, using Troublesome Creek as a medium of transportation.  Slone owned a couple of saw mills, too.  In these he would cut cross ties for the railroads that were being pushed through the mountains. 
     He recalls that Troublesome always has been troublesome, but its more troublesome now than in the long ago when the forests held back the runoff waters to some extent. 
Then there was mighty good fishing in that stream.  But no more. And there was good hunting all around the place where the county seat now stands.  He can remember when his father shot a deer, but he never did.  There were plenty of coons and squirrels, "And, there was good hunting a lot around the place where the county seat now stands.  He can remember when his father shot a deer, but he never did. There were plenty of coons and squirrels.  "and, partridges.  Law, what a sight of 'em, every place."  It takes a good bird dogs and plenty of tramping to flush a covey now.  The old man took his sense of humor to bed with him.  Not long ago his friend, Dr. J.W. Duke, one of the oldest practicing physicians in the mountains, called on him.  "Doc," the old lawyer asked, "have you got any more of them kidney pills you gave me last time I got sick?"  " Yes, " replied the veteran physician, "but not with me.  They are down at my office."  The patient turned to his grandson.  "Merd, " he quipped, "run down to Doc's office and get me them pills.   You can't ever tell when something's likely to happen to an old feller like him.