THE GOAT MAN – LOOKING BACK AT A MORE INNOCENT AMERICA ALONG TOBACCO ROAD

Mass media keep us connected to world events 24/7. In Clemmons, NC, until my teens we had no television or telephone. We lived in a less informed and more innocent world, notably so in the rural South. An old friend recalled a special visitor to Clemmons in the early 1950s who attracted great attention.

From the other side of the county, word spread that a “Goat Man” was headed our way. We had no idea what to expect. In a few days, he passed through the village and out of our lives.  Then, we heard rumors of his death. 70 years later, thanks to Google, I have learned his story.

CHARLES "CHES" MCCARTNEY (1901–1998)

Charles “Ches” McCartney traveled around America in a wagon pulled by goats. He was known as the “Goat Man.” McCartney was born 1901 in Sigourney, Iowa. In 1915, he ventured to New York City, where he sold newspapers on a street corner. Soon, he had a whirlwind romance with a 24-year-old Spanish knife thrower. They formed a circus act. McCartney would bravely perch on a wall while his new bride threw twenty-five sharp knives in his direction.

They tried farming in Iowa, but the Great Depression left them destitute. His knife-throwing wife left early one morning and never returned. He began working for the Works Progress Administration (WPA) as a tree cutter. In 1935, a falling tree pinned him down for hours. Presumed dead, McCartney awoke on a mortician's table with an embalming needle in his arm.

Ches had learned about “goat power” while plowing his fields with them after he lost his horses during the Depression. After his near-death experience, he hitched his team of goats to a wagon and took to the open road.

His iron-wheeled wagon was rickety, filled with clutter he picked up. It had a bed, a potbellied stove, and lanterns.  10 or so goats pulled the wagon. A few trailed behind to act as brakes when going downhill. The sturdy animals pulled the wagon 5-10 miles a day. Stray and neglected goats he found became his "babies," each with a name. He had a herd of about 30 goats.

He sold collected scrap metal, postcards of himself, and pictures he posed for. His diet was mainly goat milk. Camping on a tolerant landowner's property each night, he milked and fed his goats and built a campfire, adding an automobile tire for smoke to keep bugs away.

McCartney attracted visitors. He was friendly and chatty. He smelled very bad, as did his goats. Early on, he wore a goat skin outfit, later replaced by several layers of greasy, sooty clothes. He never shaved or bathed, and some joked that his smell arrived long before he did. “[The goats] don’t care how I smell or look. They have faith in me, and that’s more than I can say about a lot of people.”

At night, visitors would find him curled up with his goats in his wagon, reading Robinson Crusoe or his Bible by a kerosene lantern. “On cold winter nights, my goats are the finest electric blanket I can find.”

At the peak of his fame, radio stations gave updates on his travels, schools adjusted schedules so children could see his caravan, and traffic backed up for miles as people tried to catch a glimpse of him.

Rumors were that he was rich and that it was bad luck to harm him. But he was frequently mugged during his later years on the road. In 1969, some young men broke three of his ribs and killed two of his favorite goats. He then retired to Jeffersonville, Georgia, started the Free-Thinking Christian Mission, and sold his goats. In 1978, his wooden shack burned, and he moved to an old school bus donated by sympathetic friends.

He found his domestic life to be dull. He would still limp along the local road carrying objects he found on the way. He hitchhiked into Macon weekly to socialize at the senior citizens’ center.

In October 1985, the Goat Man embarked on a walk to California. His goal was an ambition to woo the actress, Morgan Fairchild.[i] This adventure took a dark turn when he was violently mugged at gunpoint and hospitalized. His wandering ended, although he considered his stay in a nursing home to be temporary.

However, he claimed to have covered over 100,000 miles and visited 49 states. Hawaii eluding him.  “Mys goats couldn't swim that far, and if they could, they'd just end up eating the grass skirts off the hula dancers."

He died in 1998. Believed to be 97, he claimed to be 106. The Goat Man's legacy has lived on in the memories of those, like the children in Clemmons more than 70 years ago, who saw his caravan and visited his camp.

[i] I am the age now that the Goat Man was when he set out to find Morgan Fairchild. Even for the attention of the most beautiful star in Hollywood, I would not consider a 2,300-mile walk. I admire the Goat Man’s determination, even though his objective was (probably?) unrealistic.