THE HERMIT OF SHEPARDSON HOLLOW
By Larry Parsons
Up on Shepardson Hollow Road, along with many new homes, is a log cabin, last known as Aunt Liza’s. This cabin is not one out of a box or readycut variety, but an original cut from the land. Some 40 years ago, there was not another building from Cherrier’s on the corner to John Rounds on top of the hill. There was no plumbing or electricity in the cabin. The town dump was just up the road.
Phil Jones lived in this cabin for a great share of his life. He migrated here from England and professed to be a male nurse or midwife. Back in his day, this was a common thing.
Much of his welfare came from the dump. He cared not if his socks or mittens matched. He used to say that people wasted a lot of good stuff. He never cared for welfare, but I never knew him to refuse a meal.
The only close resemblance that I could name would be an older Mickey Rooney. Often you would see him coming down the road with his sheepskin coat and walking stick.
Phil had an ear for music and could play the spoons, bottles, and xylophone. He used to say, “I can play the bones.”
One of the selectmen got Phil a pension, but Phil said, “If I have to be buried on welfare, I want to be buried face down.” His first check did not get picked out of his mailbox. He was found to have died. Enough money was found on his property for a descent burial.
Fairfax Town Records indicate that Philip C. Jones was born in Liverpool, England on April 1, 1882. He was found dead at the log cabin on July 10, 1958 and it was determined that he died of an acute myocardial failure. He was buried in Sanderson Corners Cemetery on July 14, 1958.
Contrary to the information I recorded in my records, that Phil was black, I need to correct that and tell you that Phil was not a black man.
