Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1925-08-21
MISS PICKETT
TOURS STATE
Generals Daughter, Movie Director,
Seeks Setting for Pictures

1t was in 1919 that George +
Pickett, later to become one of tn
great, outstanding Southern militar
leaders of the Civil War, stood O
the crest of the Blue Ridge noun
tains in Rockfish Gap and embraces
his younger brother, who with a wa
gon train, manned by 100 slaves, an,
with his bride of a few days, wa
taking his departure for that land O
promise beyond the Appalachians-
Kentucky. Here, after a last hand
clasp and brave farewell, tn,
young Pickett left his brother ant
the home of his childhood in the gold
en- Piedmont, and in the footsteps O
Boone and Lewis and Clark, led hi.
little caravan into the setting sun.
Last week, another pioneer, will
black satin slippers, a hairnet that
had gone down brayely in an une
quail battle for existence, terrific
headache from $50 miles over not toe
good Virginia roads, and a dress thai
was never meant to turn back the
chilly blasts of late afternoon
mountain breeze, stood ankle deep in
the icy waters of Goshen Pass and
watched the selfsame sun disappear
over the Appalachians into the land
where her grandfather, the younger
Pickett, had carved a beautiful home
for his bride in the fertile Kentucky
blue grass.
The cold water, flowing by among
enormous boulders, went unheeded
The icy, penetrating chill of an I'M
usually cold July night in the noun
tains went unnoticed. That glowing
orb, setting behind the western ridge
was all that counted. At last it slip
ped behind great black rock, light
ing up the scudding clouds of fleece
that raced each other maiestically
across the summer sky, and by so do
ing, broke the spell.
Miss Elizabeth Pickett, the only
woman director in motion pictures,
sighed. She lifted her dainty black
satin slippers from the water and es-
sayed to climb the slippery boulders
which had been her downfall But
her thoughts were not on ruined
shoes.
THAT was a perfect moving pic
ture sunset" she lamented. "and my
camera man in New York
Then she climbed into a weary,
downtrodden fivver and without a
word of complaint rode in blissful 81
lence through the gathering gloom
over a road that was plainly marked,
CLOSED to all Traffic" and which
kept the occupants of the laboring
motor ear in state of perpetual sus-
pension between the swaying, heav-
ing cushions and the ancient top that
threatened time and again to give
up the fight and let its guests con-
tinue their heavenward course.
Like her grandfather, Miss Pickett
is pioneering. She is leading her sex
into that almost uninvaded field, the
direction of the motion picture And
like her ancestors. she is travelling
over road not made to order Dur
ing her ten days of prospecting for
locations in which to film her newest
venture, a scenic and historic motion
picture of Virginia. in which the Vir-
ginia State Chamber of Commerce is
cooperating with her, she did not ask
favors From ten to eighteen hours
a day she travelled from location to
location. critically praising, openly
discounting, but never tagging. With
the mercury at or around 100 de-
grees she trudged a mile over the
torrid, scorching, dazzling sand
dunes around Cape Henry. On a
bench she munched sandwiches to
save time so that she could cover
200 miles over sweltering, dust
choked roads by automobile, before
the close of day. She sacrificed an
other hairnet on that altar of art in
Southwest Virginia, when she walked
three miles through dense under
growth, half falling, half climbing
down the gulch that encloses Chief
Benge Falls, near Bristol. Again hel
satin shoes paid heavily, but she die
not complain.
Its fine" she said, "a wonderful
falls" and fled back to the motor tt
cover 100 miles over the hairpil
eurving mountain roads that climbed
mountain after mountain with seem
ing endlessness, revealing at ever!
turn some new expanse of loneliness
The days ride ended that night a
o'clock, but at $50 O'Clock tn
new day began, and the next nigh
was spent at Hot Springs, ESQ mile
away and more than 100 miles of
by automobile. Nor did she fine
when the rain fell in torrents as sh
crossed the Blue Ridge into the Pied
mont by way of Front Royal, and tn
sand clay became treacherou
thing, suddenly releasing the III
chained wheels and letting the III
comfortable car sidestep sickeningl
toward the white posts that marke
where road ended and precipice b'
gan.
Nor do you wonder, after learnin