Today’s guest post was written by Celia Miles.
Photo from Gadsden Public Library
Heading sun-ward, he set up camp on the outskirts of our mountain community in the
fall, arriving with the scent of wood smoke, the last of summer’s dust, the certainty of coming
snows, and the rank odor of rain-rinsed goats.
We visited around dusk, seldom the only family there. Sitting on an overturned bucket
before a small fire, a coffee pot on the grate, he always offered Daddy a cup which he always
took. Standing in the tidy disorder beyond the glow, we youngsters, unheeding the conversation,
touched the pots, pans, tools hanging on his wagon, patted his pet, untethered goat, whose head
nudged the man’s shoulder.
Maybe he was a leftover from the tinkers who once traveled the back roads, repairing
kitchen and gardening implements; maybe he dispersed slow wisdom to the men who hunkered
down at his fire, their cigarettes glowing, the voices somehow low, comforting, somehow
imbued with a kind of rough magic—a harbinger of the coming season when all was white,
dangerous, possible.
He wore a dark knit cap, overalls, flannel shirts on top of each other, work boots. But for
his longish hair he could be any old timer stepping from a feed store. But he wasn’t. Now I
wonder: To the fathers who joined him, was he the epitome of manly freedom—no home
address, no time clock to punch, no encumbering children, no taxes, no debts?
The Goat Man—“hip” before that generation was born, on a circuit of his own making,
home wherever he and his four sedate and smelly goats stopped to build a fire, bound by no
societal or familial map, he steered by the stars.
I never seen the goat man, but I’ve heard plenty of stories about him over the years. Pap remembered him well. He frequently traveled throughout this region. You can learn more about the goat man here.
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I never say the Goat Man in person but I knew people who had seen him. They showed me pictures of them with the Goat Man. When I was a child he used to come through Columbia, SC occasionally. I always envied him because of his free life style. I understand he was robed occasionally and beaten up. I really can’t imagine how someone could harm such a defenseless person. Thank you for this story. Dennis Morgan
What an amazing story, and an amazing man. Like many have already said, why must people be so cruel. Thank you Tipper for sharing this story. Can’t say I ever had the privilege of seeing The Goat Man, but wish I had.
The article brought back a memory. I remember when the Goatman came down US Hwy 11 and camped just down the road from our house when my family lived north of Cleveland, TN, in Bradley County, TN. I was a boy then. US Hwy 11 was a major North-South two-lane highway before the coming of the Interstate freeway system.
I would see him on the road going to Georgetown where our family Farm, the Lonas Farm, was. Our mother always bought something from him, carefully looking over his wares. These Lonas kids were fascinated with him, petting and playing with his goats. Shout out to Goatmans spirit that still traverses his lonely, yet memorable trail, much like the Cherokees Trail of Tears. All those spirits, bless them all.
We had a “goat man” in SC. Down in Abbeville County.They were everywhere! Outside his house and inside,I don’t know how many.Nastiest place you ever saw!!!
Thanks everyone for adding your memories of the goat man. This post was so interesting and everyone’s comments made it even better. I wish I could have seen him with all those goats and his awesome cart.
What an interesting article about the Goat Man but also sad. Thanks for sharing.
We were in class when the Goat Man came by. There had been a rumor going around that he was on his way. I desperately wanted to watch him go by. There was no way, though, that I was going to ask the teacher to let me out of class to go stand down by the main highway. I almost cried into my arithmetic book until I heard a joyful sound. It was the teacher “Alright children line up, we are going down to the road. You cannot go past the grass!” The whole school went out to greet him.
There he came! A stagecoach looking apparatus pulled by a small herd of goats, followed by the rest of the herd including those inside, outside and even atop the strange vehicle. There must have been three dozen billies, nannies and kids in the entourage.
The star, the Goat Man himself looked a little strange but no more odd than many men I had seen even at that tender age. He walked along at a determined pace hardly turning his head to glance toward his audience. Not totally ignoring a mass of backwoods 6 to 12 year-olds staring in awe, he had to look at the road in front and in back while keeping an eye on his four-legged family at the same time.
It was 5 minutes at the most from the time he first appeared until the last trailing goat disappeared around the curve but he made an impression that has lasted 66 years.
I don’t know when the author got to see the Goat Man but four sedate and smelly goats were but a drop in bucket compared to the herd I saw. Maybe he downsized?
Tipper–I’m coming to this intriguing post quite late but can add a fair amount. Chas McCartney (aka “The Goat Man”) came through Bryson City most if not every year of my pre-teen years in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Word would reach town of his impending arrival several days in advance and everyone at school would be talking about “the Goat Man is coming, the Goat Man is coming.” It was a big deal. Mind you his arrival was an odiferous one. Downwind you could smell his goats (and him) for the length of a football field, and the aroma would have shamed a skunk. Here are a few little factoids on him (I’ve written about him multiple times over the years and thus have done quite a bit of digging).
*There’s a well-written biography of him by entitled “America’s Goat Man” written by Darryl Patton and published in the 1990s.
*He sold post cards and other little items he carried in his ramshackle wagon.
*He and his team of goats were something of a menace on highways since they could block or stall traffic on mountains roads.
*While his routes varied a bit, he had an annual itinerary that was more or less predictable.
*If you dig around on eBay and in similar places you’ll find things such as limited edition prints memorializing him. Tipper, there’s one not far from you, at a monument place in Marble (owned by a guy named Bob Barker is my memory serves). Br’er Don and I were there one time arranging for some simple grave markers and I noticed the framed print on the wall and immediately said I knew who it was. Barker was quite surprised.
*He married multiple times, with his first marriage coming when he was a teenager. It was to a Spanish “carney” (circus performer) who was a knife thrower and at least a decade older than him.
*He claimed (falsely) to be an ordained minister.
*He also claimed, again with considerable stretching of the truth, to be well over 100 years old during his final years in a rest home in Georgia.
I was privileged to see the goat man when I was 5 years old. Daddy was a Veteran of World War II and we had moved to Clarkesville, Ga from Blairsville Ga. Daddy was learning a trade at North Ga Technical School. Daddy and Mama heard that the goat man was in Clarkesville and we went to see him and his goats. He and his goat family were camping out behind the lumber yard, in back, off the main road not bothering anyone. Lots of people were there to see him. As a little girl I was intrigued and didn’t really know what to think about him but I loved those goats! The grown ups showed him respect and showed interest in the conversations that passed around the campfire that evening. It was a peaceful time, no troubles or fussing, just a quiet mutual respect for all that were gathered there that evening. I am thankful to remember that time as one of my memorable experiences.
I recall the Goat Man but never saw him. IIRC he visited Raleigh some time in the late ’50s or ’60s. I was too busy during the ’60s to have had the time to meet him, though I wish I had.
His later life story of being victimized bespeaks the evil side of human nature. I think only God can eliminate it.
God’s Blessings to all especially Miss Louzine . . .
I saw the Goat Man a couple of times in the 1950s. The last time was in Anderson, SC. He was headed down U. S. 29, headed for Georgia, I guess. Every town has its eccentric characters. Like the Goat Man, they on the outside, both literally and figuratively. Anderson had two such people: “Trashcan Annie”, whose last name I never knew, and “Walkin’ Joe” Shanklin. Both walked the streets for years. Annie would peer into trash receptacles and retrieve items she wanted. She was a bag lady. Walkin’ Joe almost always walked in the gutter with an eye out for coins. Some people “donated” pocket change to him if they saw him coming. I’ve often wondered where their respective journeys ended.
Gene, it is not the same but do you know of any one loved more by a town than Anderson loved Radio.
As a child growing up in rural north Alabama I remember the Goat Man would occasionally pass close to my home. My buddies and I would join him at his campfire for fun talks. We liked him and admired his lifestyle.
Since I’m not from there Sorry to say I didn’t know him or seen him. But if I did I sure would buy stuff off him. Good story.
Wondering ‘the rest of the story.’ When I was child, about 70 years back, I thought that somehow I was born in the wrong century. IOWs, too late. Hadn’t heard of Laura Ingles and Little House on the Prairie but only listened to my grandmother tell stories of her earlier days and that of my grandfather’s parents living in a sod house in Iowa and snakes that were longer than Granddad was tall.
Mother’s life ended too soon. (Still 3 young kids at home.) Just the other day, I thought, ‘She might have enjoyed life today if she was still around.’
Yes, the Goat Man sounds as if he was quite the interesting character. Too bad modern society was detrimental to his unique lifestyle. Everyone ought to live life to their own pace, if they aren’t a danger to others. Sad though, there are folks that feel there is only one way to live one’s life.
I saw him once!
my daddy told me about seeing the goat man in Dahlonega Ga, must of been a hunnrrd yrs ago, God bless Granny with healing and health and love care and protection with deliverance from afflictions in Jesus name, ♥️,maybe 50 yr , daddy been dead 30 he was 83, God bless ny daddy
What an interesting story. I can imagine the Goat Man must of had some fascinating stories of his own to tell around the camp fire. Most lone travelers had dogs to travel with them. I wonder why he chose goats as his travel companions. Interesting indeed!
I saw the goat man when I young in the late 50’s here in Greene County NC. I remember thinking if I could live like that I wouldn’t have to go to school.
I don’t know if I read the same story as Tipper but from what I remember, this man was a man of faith carrying his Bible with him and reading it each day, he also had a wife and at least one son or maybe more children. I don’t remember what became of his wife. It also said he was thought to be rich (money) when he died. The state of Georgia has been mentioned and I think his home was in Georgia or at least later on in his life.
Sanford, we were thinking the same about the year the picture was made. I thought 67 because of the shape of the cars taillights and I think it was a Custom and not a Galaxy, the same body without some of the Galaxies chrome trim. In 1966 I would have been 12 years old, like you said the 57 years seem like yesterday. 57 plus12 equals 69, does that make me an antique or just a rusty piece of junk?
Randy, If you are antique at 69, I, at 81, am ancient.
No, at sixty-nine you like fine wine.
The ’67 Ford taillights had more of a slant toward the top of the rear fender. Both the ’65 and ’66 Ford had taillights that were close to vertical.
Oh I believe I would’ve loved to have known such a man as the Goat Man. In the world today, wouldn’t we all sometimes dream of such a life as his- free of all attachments, judgements, and a man with plenty of street smarts and survival skills!!!??? He lived life now didn’t he-taking every moment in-and entertaining strangers too. He was like the song “King of the Road.” Lol. God bless you all this day and especially Dear Miss Granny and anybody really who needs an uplifting of spirit, mind or body! Prayers and well wishes to you all!
The Goat Man always attracted a gathering when he came through Kennesaw in the 60s. He was quite the site even in those times. Daddy always took me to see him
Word spread quite quickly when the Goat Man was in the area.
Mom remembers him coming through Athens, TN and Etowah, TN
I remember the Goat Man coming through our small town of Ellijay GA several times.
I was always intrigued by his nomadic life style. In later years I saw or read that he lived that way by choice. As odd as it was I somewhat envied his since of freedom.
He was one of those unforgettable characters that many people shunned calling him crazy, homeless or worse.
His story is interesting and worth checking out.
Hi Ron, my mother was born in gilmer county, 1939,Gloria Sue Quarles, she passed 5 yrs ago, Ellijay Georgia, have you got any gilmer county corn? it’s l00 proof and comes in a jar!!! ♥️
I remember the goat man , walking the roads of Haywood County. I was just a kid growing up among the wonders of my environment. He had a great air of a care free life of adventure we always wanted. As I grew up I didn’t see him much and then not at all. I wonder what happened to him. I remember as roads became wider and traffic increased along his route, I saw him less. Nice memory!
Norman, it’s hard to find 100 proof liquid corn here in Northeast Tennessee, but I do know what you are talking about!
I can remember seeing him more than once on what is now Old Hwy 27 but in my childhood was just plain 27, at various spots between Dayton, TN and Kingston, TN. That was a trip we made every weekend to my mamaw and papaw’s house, then we’d go home on Sunday evening. I have the strongest memory of him near Rockwood, where my paternal granny lived and I’m now ashamed to remember that they used him as sort of a “boogeyman” cautionary tale to keep us kids from straying too far from home. Recently I listened to a Stories of Appalachia podcast about him and learned a lot more about the man as opposed to his legend.
I remember as a boy seeing him several times on the old highway 41 between Chattanooga and Atlanta.
Both the intrigue and the tragedy stirred my emotions. a couple of chuckles at his antics, but those tears that well up from deep inside as well. Why are some people so cruel? I will never understand the persecution of the innocent. All in all, what a life of freedom he had. I would say, “A life well lived.”
Thank you for adding the link to that long article about Ches McCartney, Tipper.
What a great story, Tipper!
What a touching story of an independent thinker! He may have led a simple, itinerate life but his faith was strong and he followed both it and his heart. Thank you for sharing the history of the Goat Man.
a great story teller I bet, I loved hearing story’s from travelers as a child
I remember seeing him, the last time was from a bus on my way to 4-H Camp, probably about 1960.
Thank you for sharing this story.
While we may not have goat men today we continue to have independent individuals who take to the road in search of adventure. Instead of a wagon and goats, they convert vans, trucks, etc into living spaces, purchase cameras/equipment, create a channel on YouTube, and earn a living by sharing their travels and experiences with us. Times change, but the human spirit seeking a unique approach of living has not.
Since I’m not from that area, I’ve never heard of the “goat man” but his story is a good read. Today people use goat carts as decorative antiques in their yards.
Tipper, did you buy your raised beds from Lowe’s or an online company? I’m getting so many online ads selling them.
Have a great day and God bless all the family.
Brenda-I got them online 🙂
The post today brought back so many memories growing up in Trussville Alabama. Seeing the Goat Man camped at a road side park just north of town.
Enjoying listening to him talk, looking at all the strange junk on his wagon,and playing with the goats.
Going by the Ford car and Chevrolet truck shown in the picture along with the way the people are dressed, I would say that picture was made around 1967 give or take a year or two.
He came through Union County GA several times I guess. I remember early to mid 50’s he stopped at Uncle Rush Mauney’s store at the corner of what is now Gumlog Rd & US 129.
Tipper,
After looking at the picture, again, I realized the picture was taken in 1966 or later. To me, that seems like a short time ago, but in fact, would have been around 57 years ago, if the picture was actually snapped in 1966?
A story so well written that one just might see and smell the scene in their imagination?
I remember seeing him as a child in Oxford, Al. I believe there is a book about him
That is a lonesome and sad story.
I remember many years ago traveling to Chattanooga to see relatives on Hwy. 27 with my husband and our three girls. We saw the goat man many times and we always talked with him and my husband would gave him some money. I don’t think he asked for money. It was a treat for our girls to see him. We found out he was on his way to Newnan, Ga. to his home of sorts and we heard that he had a son down there . We visited relative over night and the next day we might see him again on our way back to our home in Ga. He was always a friendly man and he loved his goats. A lot of people stopped and talked with the Goat Man and he traveled all over many roads in Ga. back then.
I’m 73 yrs old and I remember actually seeing “The Goat Man” as a child .. I lived at the foot of Fort Mountain in Chatsworth, Ga. Once a year he would come through town with his wagon of pots and what knots clanging on each side. He wagon was always loaded as high as it was wide .. makes you wonder how did the goats pull such a load .. The Goat Man was quiet in nature..never meant to bring attention to himself. I guess that’s why you noticed him more .. the goats were quiet yet his wagon clanged .. I think people were more interested in the wagon than the man or goats.. he just simply pasted through town talking to anyone who talked first, I guess. Of course the population was much smaller in town in those days .. simple people ..maybe that’s why he may have been excepted so easily..
The goat man is so interesting. We had a recluse in our area, ol man Jackson. He had a ramshackled home though with a huge barn. Until he got too old he would raise pumpkins and shell black walnuts, hook up his Belgian workhorse and sell them door to door. The boys in our neighborhood loved him and would sit around a fire on his property (he cooked his dinner outside most days). He was disheveled and had a long gray beard and walnut stained hands. Kids back then treated him with respect. The goat man reminded me of him.
I remember seeing him several times here in northeastern Alabama Appalachia when I was a child. I remember the clanging of metal objects, buckets and pans, against the side of his wagon as it rolled along. I was fascinated by the goats walking around him.
First thing coming to mind is an old black and white photograph of my mother and her sister as young children riding in a goat-pulled cart (2 goats). She remembered the goats and the tiny child’s cart. Next, when I was a young child, my parents took me to Rock City on Lookout Mountain in Georgia–a truly amazing place. When we were driving back through some small town, we saw what my mother called “a hermit,” an elderly man with long white hair and beard, walking with a staff and what appeared to be an animal skin robe. As a child, I thought he was Jesus. I love this story of the Goat Man, for clearly he was a good man, and he brought back memories I’ve not remembered for many years.
Nancy, my daddy liked to tell of him having a small wagon and a billy goat for a short period of time when he was a boy. He said that goat was MEAN, he was always butting you and when hooked to his wagon, would run under their house causing him to hit his head on the floor joist. Back in those days a lot of homes were not underpinned. Knowing my Granddaddy, it was a wonder the goat didn’t wind up on the dinner table, I guess it had something to do with him being a billy.
I remember seeing the “goat man” somewhere along about 1960 when I was a youngster. It was along Hwy 25 at the Princeton community of Greenville County, SC. I remember him and his wagon looking similar to the picture. I have read the “goat man’s” story and he was not the poor, uneducated person you would think him to be. People would come from all around to see him.
Randy you are correct, he was an educated man. He knew how to survive and adapt to most any situation/ environment.. he was also a wealthy man whose home was originally in Florida, I think. He had a wife and several children, who did not travel with him .. I just wonder if he took life as an experiment to see just how kind others who saw him would react to what appeared to be a beggar.. you know .. “Love others as you love yourself “
How interesting. Horse and buggy and that era was just a little before my time. Milk in bottles not in cartons is more my ‘time’. On another subject, are you going to have an almanac calendar this year. I am looking forward to ordering one if so. It is about time to stop harvesting for us as well. I still have some eggplant’s coming along in my raised beds. After watching you guys having success with yours, I am thinking about getting a few. Enough ambling along. Give Granny my thoughts and prayers. Stay well and safe and hoping for you to get snow this winter. God Bless
Great story, such a free spirit!
I just love picturing the scenery as I read the story. He sure was before his time, but what a lonely life it must have been.