Henderson history: How a local man beat the Illinois Central to a draw

Jonesburg is probably the most famous local community that hardly anyone has heard of.

Robert A.N. Jones would be crushed to learn of its current obscurity. He had big plans for the community -- and his long feud with the Illinois Central Railroad was responsible for the national press coverage it got during the first part of the 20th Century.

Where is Jonesburg? Head south on U.S. 60-West and just before you hit the Union County line you’ll see a road off to the left called Jonesburg Road. At the end of that road are about three houses, including a two-story, concrete block structure that is Jones’ most permanent legacy.

The Illinois Central used to have a line that ran between Corydon and Morganfield, which was completed in 1885.

The railroad initially had a watering station at Highland Creek, but regular flooding caused it to move the station to the Jones neighborhood.

That’s when the trouble began. Practically in front of Jones’ log cabin the railroad erected a sign designating the community as Highland, the same name it had used less than a mile away.

“This has been Jones for 60 years,” he said in The Gleaner of Dec. 6, 1907, a fact confirmed by the U.S. Geological Survey. “My father (William B. Jones) settled here when just a boy.”

The feud didn’t really heat up until after the railroad ignored a petition Jones sent signed by about 15 of the community’s residents. That prompted Jones to hire a sign painter to replicate the railroad’s sign, except it said: “No Highland here. This is Jones Station.” It was placed next to the railroad’s sign, but on Jones’ property.

“The two signs, with their evident conflict between personal pride and the corporation’s design to do as it pleases, invariably causes smiles on the part of the passengers,” according to an Evansville Courier article that was reprinted in The Gleaner of Oct. 15, 1904.

“The sympathy of the passengers is with Jones. They wish they knew more of the story of his conflict with the railroad over the name.”

The Dec. 6, 1907, article said Jones had replaced “the famous old sign at Highland” with two new signs – one on either side of the Illinois Central’s sign.

“Thousands of passengers have smiled and were puzzled over this (original) odd sign, and the railroad sent down men to have it demolished, but as it was planted on Jones’ land they thought it best to let it alone.”

That story -- like later ones -- apparently was picked up by other publications because on Dec. 7 The Gleaner reprinted an article from the Louisville Courier-Journal calling the railroad “very inconsiderate” for its treatment of Jones.

“The Joneses are respectable people. They own the land. They have lived there 60 years. It is a shame and an outrage, bordering on pleurisy, heresy and cisarabia (?) to talk about Highland.”

The oldest in-depth article I’ve been able to find about the feud appeared in The Gleaner of Oct. 24, 1909, where the reporter found Jones “sitting in front of an old-time log fire in his old-time log cabin playing his banjo.” The same article later described him as an “old man of somewhat humble bearing but the natural born prowess of a fighter.”

The basis for that story was the placement of a new sign, on which Jones published 15 lines of doggerel describing his conflict with the railroad. (I will not reproduce it here out of compassion for my readers.)

“For years Jones and the big, powerful, arrogant and autocratic railroad have waged an incessant struggle about the name of a little ‘one-hoss’ station. The new sign is the most recent sortie.”

At least one divorce was said to have been caused by the division in the community, and “when a fistfight occurs it is almost certain that the quarrel was brought about concerning the name the village should go by.”

Jones had lived in a three-room log cabin all his life but had plans for a new house, an obelisk, a general store and a post office.

The Gleaner of April 27, 1911, carried another in-depth article, which described Jones as “a large muscular person of middle age.” The basis for that story was that his signs had finally worn down one of the country’s largest railroads, which resulted in a compromise. Instead of Jones Station or Highland, “after 10 years of persistent effort” the community’s new name was Jonesburg.

“Well, a little poem I wrote decided the dispute,” he told the reporter. “The whole country laughed at the railroad and the officials of the company were glad to call this place Jonesburg.” The new name was reflected in the railroad’s tickets, maps, and timetables.

That article also described Jones’ plans for “a 10-room house with octagon front and diamond windows.” Another dream was a 300-foot-tall obelisk, similar to the one that marks the birthplace of Jefferson Davis at Fairview. It was to mark the graves of the entire Jones clan. (He was the youngest of six children.)

The Henderson Evening Journal of Aug. 15, 1911, reported work had begun on his new house, which supposedly was to cost $5,000. Concrete blocks were being shipped in by the Illinois Central. That story also said he’d decided the obelisk would be only 100 feet tall.

The log cabin in which Jones had been born May 11, 1862, and lived in most of his life had been torn down a week before the Journal published its article.

The story ended with these words: “the tickets, maps, timetables, etc. now show the point as Jonesburg instead of Highland, and Robert A.N. Jones is proclaimed the winner.”

That wasn’t the last word about the controversy, though. The Gleaner of Jan. 6, 1924, revisited the matter – probably because it made such a good story. That article provided my entry into the topic of Jonesburg.

“Smiles of derision (by railroad officials) over the eccentricity of a country man who sought local notoriety changed to chagrin when there was no letup in the strife, for as the corporation evinced a design to exercise its prerogative in naming stations along its line, just as determined was Mr. Jones to perpetuate his individuality by having the place named Jones Station.

“It was a constant source of irritation to the I.C. and became sharper in (his) frequent contact with officials, who now dismayed by the tift with Mr. Jones, sought an escape from the dilemma without compromising with a farmer….”

I’ve already described the compromise. “Robert A.N. Jones, whose name became a familiar one to men high in the councils of the Illinois Central, is buried by the side of the gleaming pathway of commerce…” in the family graveyard at Jonesburg.

His death May 28, 1921, came 18 days after he turned 59. His death certificate says he died after an operation on his right arm, which was probably an amputation attempt. He was suffering from embolic gangrene in both legs and his right arm.

75 YEARS AGO

First Baptist Church was getting ready for a ground-breaking ceremony to build a new educational building, the first to be built in Henderson since the early 1930s, according to The Gleaner of Jan. 1, 1949.

The new addition was expected to cost $119,024, not including the equipment although the entire project was expected to cost about $140,000.

The Gleaner of Jan. 4, 1949, reported Rev. E. Keevil Judy, pastor of the church, shoveled the first bit of dirt on the project.

50 YEARS AGO

Cold weather caused the city of Henderson to shut down natural gas service to 14 local industries and schools in the county system to close, according to The Gleaner of Jan. 2, 1974.

Also, Henderson and the rest of the country officially began Daylight Saving Time as an energy conservation measure, according to The Gleaner of Jan. 6, 1974.

“The switch, which puts the nation on fast time for the first time since World War II, keeps the country on Daylight Saving Time until December 1975. President Nixon signed the bill last month as a conservation measure meant to reduce energy demands for heating and lighting.”

25 YEARS AGO

The use of methamphetamine was a growing problem in this area, according to a package of stories that appeared in The Gleaner Jan. 3, 1999.

Meth had been around before that, but it had mostly been imported, and usage was at lower levels. Local production had begun in the mid-1990s and by 1999 it was a real problem.

“We’ve been seeing it here the past five years … quite a bit of it,” said Detective Jamie Duvall of the Henderson Police Department. “It is popular and it is available in larger quantities than it used to be. Making it is by leaps and bounds easier than it was five years ago.”

Readers of The Gleaner can reach Frank Boyett at YesNews42@yahoo.com.

This article originally appeared on Evansville Courier & Press: Henderson history: How a local man beat the Illinois Central to a draw