U.S. Post Office and Store at Creekmore, KY
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Francis Asbury Creekmore (May 30, 1902-August 22, 1967) is pictured in front of the United State Post Office and store in Creekmore, Kentucky circa 1966. Mr. Creekmore served as postmaster and storekeeper at Creekmore, Kentucky near what is now known as Hayes Creek. He also farmed and ran a grist mill.
Francis and his wife, Lula Gilreath Creekmore (1903-1973), were the parents of five children, four daughters and one son. Alma Nadene Creekmore Heth (1922-2020), was a talented artist, singer, and teacher who married Arthur Heth. Norma Jean Creekmore Lawson (1924-2016) worked for H&R Block and was an avid gardener and homemaker who married George Edward Lawson. Pearl Creekmore Anderson (1926-2005), owned and operated Anderson’s Grocery Store in Pine Knot along with her husband, Earl Anderson. Sally Ittylene Creekmore Trammell (1931-2017), was a homemaker and artist who made handmade quilts and other textile art. Ittylene married Cecil Trammell. Each of the four daughters lived in Pine Knot. Francis and Lula’s son, Bobby Francis Creekmore, is a retired mechanical engineer living in South Carolina with his wife, Jackie Privett Creekmore.
The poem below was written in 1978 by Francis’ grandson, Roger Trammell, the son of Ittylene and Cecil Trammell. The poem serves as a touching homage to one of McCreary County’s finest citizens.
Apple Crates and Old Nail Kegs
The cold wind blows the winter snow, but it warms me deep inside,
And takes me back to yesterday’s more simple way of life.
To apples crates and old nail kegs around the pot-bellied stove,
Fox hounds and pickup trucks and ashes in the snow.
The dawn breaks grey on a winter day at my grandpa’s country store,
The trading post for the local folks at a place they call Creekmore.
Carry in the kindling and carry in the coal; let’s get a fire goin’.
The old black stove would chase away the cold of the early winter morn.
Grandpa was a Christian man who lived what he believed,
Song books and old shotguns and Beechnut in his cheek.
A gospel song in a voice pure and strong, he’d sing a verse or two,
A working man with calloused hands and a gentleman thru and thru.
His shelves were filled with staple goods; the necessary things,
Flour and sugar and nails and shoes and always kerosene.
Country folk in overalls and mail order flannel shirts,
Oil cans surround the one gas pump and the air hose that never worked.
Chewing tobacco and roll-your-own and trading pocketknives,
Whittlin’ and spittin’ around the stove but mostly trading lies.
Progress closed the country store, but I’ll always hold it dear,
Priceless memories of a simple time in the winter days of yesteryear.