top of page

Stone Gardens: The victim of an unfortunate accident in 1936 is the resident of a Latimer County cemetery

  • Writer: Dennis McCaslin
    Dennis McCaslin
  • 2 days ago
  • 3 min read



Wallace Hill Barnes.
Wallace Hill Barnes.

In the quiet rows of Centerpoint Cemetery outside Wilburton, one modest marker remembers Wallace Hill Barnes.


Born on Christmas Day 1899 in the hills of South Pittsburg, Tennessee, to Mary Naomi Hill Barnes, he left his native state as a young man and followed the promise of work into the red-dirt country of Latimer County.


There, in 1924, he married Minnie Lee McClinton, a strong-willed young woman from Georgia, and together they raised six small children in modest and rural surroundings near the Degnan community.


Degnan took its name from James Degnan, one of the region’s most prominent mine operators. In the 1920s the area still hummed with the noise of the coal economy--company houses, tipples, and rail spurs cutting through the hills--even as the shadow of tragedy lingered.


Only a few years earlier, in 1920 and again in the devastating 1926 Degnan-McConnell Mine No. 21 explosion that claimed 91 lives, the community had endured some of Oklahoma’s worst mining disasters.


Yet for families like the Barneses, Degnan offered steady if hard work: hauling supplies by wagon, tending small plots between shifts, and raising children amid the smoke and dust of the mines. Life there moved to the cadence of the whistle and the creak of wagon wheels on red-dirt roads.


Minnie Lee McClinton Barnes
Minnie Lee McClinton Barnes

Minnie Lee McClinton was born July 3, 1905, in the Powder Springs / Rising Fawn area of Georgia (Cobb and Dade counties).



She was the daughter of Augustus McClinton (born July 4, 1856, in Pell City, Alabama) and Etta Belle Durham McClinton (born September 7, 1874, in Sulphur Springs, Georgia). The McClinton family carried deep Southern roots that stretched across Alabama and Georgia before Minnie made the journey westward as a teenager or young woman.


Wallace earned his living the old-fashioned way, guiding a horse-drawn wagon along the narrow roads that served farms and mining camps. The work was steady but unforgiving, the kind that kept food on the table and shoes on growing feet.



On an ordinary day several weeks before September 21, 1936, he drove beneath a low railroad bridge near Degnan. The clearance was too tight. The impact broke his back. He survived long enough for family and neighbors to gather, long enough for hope to flicker, but on that Monday in late September the injury claimed him at thirty-six.


The funeral was simple and swift, held the same afternoon. Reverend W. A. Hammers spoke the words of comfort at the graveside while the September sun warmed the grass of Centerpoint Cemetery. Minnie Lee stood with their six young children, the weight of sudden widowhood already settling on her shoulders.

At just thirty-one years old, she faced the immense task of raising the family alone in the depths of the Great Depression.


Minnie Lee eventually remarried a man named Drake and later returned to the Southeast. She lived until November 28, 1985, passing in Hamilton County, Tennessee, at age eighty. She was laid to rest in Sulphur Springs Cemetery in DeKalb County, Alabama , near the community where her mother had been born and where family ties remained strong. \




Wallace Hill Barnes left no fortune, no famous deeds, no lengthy obituary. He left a wife who had to find her way alone, six children who learned early what it meant to lose a father, and a grave in a historic country cemetery where the wind still moves through the same fields he once crossed with his wagon.


 Minnie Lee carried forward the resolve of two Southern families -- cClinton and Durham--raising their children and eventually returning to the hills of her origins.


In Stone Gardens terms, their paired stories are unassuming yet eloquent. Wallace’s marker in Oklahoma and Minnie’s in Alabama speak not of greatness but of the thousands of working lives that built rural America, one careful haul at a time, until one ordinary bridge proved unforgiving.


.The grass grows thick around both stones now, but the quiet legacy remains: a Tennessee-born laborer and his Georgia-born wife who built a family across states, endured sudden loss, and left descendants who still honor their endurance.


 
 

©2024 Today in Fort Smith. 

bottom of page