“My grandfather and great grandfather were loggers. Little communities would build up, and after a time would just die out. I can attest loggers were a very special kind of people, and they showed much evidence of a life of very hard work. In my family there were not very many quiet people, and was actually talkaholics. I was fortunate to have witnessed the changes in a little logging community called Pinnacle Creek. We have old pictures from its heyday showing large groups of men who worked the timbers. Another picture show them getting together in the 1930’s for corn shuckings. The pictures of men all dressed up to shuck corn is very suspect, and actually made a local paper. I once hid Easter eggs at a company store there before they stopped the timbering. They had their own one room school, and a few rows of houses along with scattered farms. As the timbering came to an end my grandfather decided to stay there where they had rich bottom land in a valley along the creek. The old houses were torn down and used for his various barns and outhouses. Certain areas of the creek were still used for baptizing and swimming.
Time marches on, and the old folks have died off but not the memories. Our beautiful Pinnacle Creek became part of the ATV trails of the Hatfield and McCoy trails. We know the old landmarks, and each year a group makes the trek up the holler to see the old home place. Sadly, all that remains of the booming little community is a small neglected cemetery on a hillside. Each grave represents somebody who died during the short time when the area was populated by timber workers. Each little grave is marked by a simple field stone with no name. There is nobody left who knows the names of those who rest there. It is just one of many cemeteries where folks are buried near where a little logging or mining community once thrived.”
—PinnacleCreek – November 2018