Squatter’ s Rights
~ by Henry Swain reprinted from April, 1998
In the 1930s, an Indianapolis lawyer Fred Bates Johnson owned a two story log cabin a mile north of Nashville on State road 135. David and Cathy Martin now live in the cabin and operate their antique business from the home.
Fred was at one time a partner with Jack Rogers in the operation of the Nashville House hotel before it burned. Fred also had an interest in the Bessire orchard. One of the buildings still standing on the Martin property is a building which was used for the storage of apples during the winter.
The walls are several inches thick, the wall space filled with sawdust for insulation. Built before commercial insulating materials were available, it was a very practical use of a readily available native material for such a purpose.
Fred was one of those early visitors and investors in Brown County who had the vision to see what its future would be like.
He had purchased from realtor Walter Snodgrass a large tract of land in the Four Mile Ridge area.
Fred had a standing arrangement with Walter to buy tracts for him when a good bargain appeared. Fred had bought this land without ever seeing it. There was a house on it but Walter neglected to tell Fred there were some squatters living in it. Unaware of this fact Fred drove out to look over his new purchase.
Fred was a man of small wiry stature, slightly stooped, with thinning sandy hair. It would be safe to say that on first meeting with Fred, his general countenance was not very intimidating.
You can imagine Fred’ s surprise as he approached his newly acquired house, to find a large woman on the porch, arms folded over her ample bosom, glaring ominously at him as he approached. As Fred neared the woman he timidly asked if she knew who owned the place? She answered defiantly,“ I think it’ s some rich s. o. b. lawyer from Indianapolis.”
Fred had a wry sense of humor, especially about himself, and he enjoyed relating this incident to me.
Fred suggested that this property would need to be held for thirty years before it would be ready for development. He was off by about ten years. It is now the site of Henderson Heights, our county’ s largest subdivision.
He finally moved the squatters out and I papered the entire house in preparation for new paying tenants. It was a remote area and I saw no visitors while I was working there. I do remember sitting on the porch on lunch break watching five Pileated Woodpeckers in one group along the edge of the woods.
Fred was an avid gardener and passed along to me many tips which I found useful in my own gardening efforts. The State Highway crew back then swept the Nashville main street every Monday morning. Fred would have them dump the contents at his place. He would sort out things that would not compost and use the remainder for his asparagus bed. He claimed the sand and cigarette butts made for a great crop.
The last time I visited Fred was after he had a stroke. His wife had wheeled him out to his garden in a wheel chair and helped him onto a small rug in the middle of the garden. We talked while he inched himself along on the rug weeding his asparagus patch.
It was sad to see him in such a condition, but it was obvious that working his favorite plot of ground was one of the few satisfactions left for him. I sensed that I was paying him my last visit. It was as though he knew he was not far away from going underground to his own permanent garden. What better way to prepare than by scratching the surface in his favorite asparagus patch. •
Henry“ Hank” Swain contributed his column in Our Brown County for 18 years.
66 Our Brown County • May / June 2014