Sarah Hyams Robinson, Maggie Warren, Linda Cable: Honoring the Women Who Influenced Me
Appalachian Women of Repute
Bryson City, North Carolina: 1985
She walked across the hall with purpose. Head high. Shoulders back. Heels clicking across the terra cotta floor, strong and confident. She pushed open the maple doors which lead into her office and disappeared into a her office. Sarah H Robinson gave the impression that she didn’t care if you liked her or not.
Sarah Hyams Robinson was the Clerk of Superior Court. I was eighteen-years-old, a senior in high school, and like most young girls my age, wanted to be liked by all. Thanks to my uncle, who was once a County Commissioner, I had secured an off-site work study class from 3-4pm at the County of Swain whereby I was paid $3.25 an hour. At the time I didn’t understand that being employed at the County would be the most important job I ever held. A gateway, if you will, to who I would become. It was here I watched strong women struggle in a man’s world. I also watched them work quietly behind the scenes to make a difference.
Sarah H Robinson has always been a woman with a purpose.
The only child of Mr. Theodore Hyams and Ellen Hyams. She spent her days inside Hyams’ Drug Company located smack dab in the middle of Bryson City. From an early age she knew how to make customers happy. The Hyams family were leaders in the community with Mr. Hyams serving as Mayor until his passing at the young age of 59. Mrs. Hyams stepped into the role as Mayor and was subsequently re-elected after her husband’s term ended.
I didn’t understand then, how much power Sarah Robinson had as Clerk of Court. I only knew that she and Maggie Warren, who served as the Register of Deeds, were fierce Appalachian women! They saw, firsthand, the weight Appalachian women carry and they believed in equal rights for all.
It’s rare that state representatives visit the hills and hollers of Appalachia unless it’s election time. Folks living in the far western mountains tend to joke that there are voters living west of Asheville. Fortunately, the mountains had cast her magical spell in the heart James McClure Clark, who served separate terms in both the NC House and Senate.
This photo was taken in the late 80s during a time when the Economic Development Commission was trying to lure industry to the area; especially a company that would provide jobs during the long winter months.
Sarah knew some men had been raised to see women as weaker, but their opinions didn’t matter. Sarah could hold her own. When she called elected officials she would lower her voice and speak into the telephone receiver with authority. Saying to the receptionist . . . “Tell him, it’s Sarah from Bryson City. I promise you, he will take my call.”
Politicians did take her call, for it is a foolish man who ignores a woman who has not once faced an opponent who could unseat her. The Blue vote always carried when I was a young woman. The interesting thing back then was, Sarah H. Robinson earned as many Red votes as she did from her Democratic Party.
When I explain the voting dynamics for women in Appalachia, people think I’m exaggerating. Put simply, a woman did not register for a party that wasn’t the same as “the man of the house.” Cancelling out a man’s vote was not done in those days. In some places, this type of control continues today. However, women have always found a way to push past oppression either publicly, or quietly.
Sarah Hyams Robinson was unstoppable. She understood there would always be women who couldn’t register Democrat, (because of the aforementioned family struggles), but they would flip the lever in Sarah’s favor, in private behind the pale blue curtain of the voting machine.
Oh how I miss those machines! The metallic click. Click. Click when you cast your vote. The heavy weight of the leaver in your hand, how it required a bit of effort to slide it into place-gears turning- curtain swaying while the woman exited the machine holding her body in the same position: shoulders back-defiant.
In the 80s, Swain County was once the poorest county in the state. I worked the switchboard. Yes, a real switchboard. There were no direct phone lines for employees. I miss sitting at the switchboard until 1 am on election night, and I sure would like to hear Mr. Bennie open the door and yell into the darkness, “Poll’s Closing!” The signal that it would soon be time to tally the votes.
Please don’t misinterpret this post; I am not writing about politics. I am writing about women making phone calls, making coffee, and working behind the scenes to make a difference. Sarah joined many other women to “Get out the Vote,” taking time away from her own family to ensure everyone who wanted to register, could, and those who needed a ride had a way to cast their vote.
State representatives visited Swain County because Sarah H. Robinson, Maggie Warren, and County Administrator, Linda Cable, demanded that rural Swain County not be forgotten. Maggie knew everyone within a five county radius; Linda traveled to Raleigh to keep our needs in front of lawmakers, and Sarah had the ear of judges across the district, as well as members of law enforcement, attorneys, the accused who were standing trial, and the freshly-chosen jury pool. Swain County belonged to these women and they were bound and determined that we receive the same treatment as those in bigger cities. That was why Sarah and Liston Ramsey got along so splendidly. Representative Ramsey was known to support rural counties above the urbanized areas.
These women extended compassion to all she met. They also got things done!
On a personal note; once a month, famed basket weavers from Cherokee headed to the courthouse carrying with them a black trash bag bulging with intricately woven baskets and purses such as the one Sarah always carried. Competition for first pick was fierce. While Maggie Warren’s office boasted a bird’s eye view of the parking lot, Sarah’s office was a straight-shot once you entered the County Building and thus Sarah received first pick of the baskets. I was expected to call Maggie the moment the baskets arrived. The bell chimed against the door as Maggie flung it open. Once she scurried across the terra cotta in stocking feet, determined not to get second pick.
Leaving the courthouse for another job was one of the most difficult decisions in my life; but Sarah and Maggie and Linda, had instilled something in me no man ever could: someone must be the voice of the weak, the unseen, the forgotten.
Being a woman who purposes to empower others isn’t always a popular choice. I’ve been asked to leave school board meeting; I’ve had death threats when I spoke out against illegal land use; I’ve been passed over for promotions, but through it all, I remember the actions of the women at the County Building who made a difference in the lives of many.
May we be like them, especially when it isn’t popular.