LOOKING BACK
IN SEARCH OF THE
LEATHERWOOD GOD “A s D y l k s d e s ce n d e d f ro m t h e p u l p i t, McCormick exclaimed: ‘B ehold our G od!’ and the b e l i e ve r s fe l l o n their knees and worshiped him.” — from R. H. Tane yhill’s 1870 account of the 1828 Leather wood G od incident
O
ne of the strangest events in Guernsey County history occurred in 1828 in the vicinity of Salesville. A well-dressed stranger named Joseph C. Dylks mysteriously appeared and convinced many in the area that he was God in the flesh. Conflicts between believers and Story by RICK BOOTH non-believers ripped families apart and pitched neighbor against neighbor. When he failed to work miracles, the non-believers drove him out of the area. Historical accounts say his later fate is a mystery, but there’s a chance he is buried in Brooklyn. This is his story. In the warm days of August, 1828, the people of the Leatherwood Creek Valley – which runs from east to west past Quaker City, Salesville, Lore City, and Kipling – gathered for a five-day “camp meeting” religious revival in fields about two miles northwest of Salesville. Large revival meetings like this, with nearly non-stop dramatic preaching and exhortation, were a common fixture in Appalachian regions as part of the Second Great Awakening movement of the early 1800s. In this particular year, the building of the nearby National Road, that era’s “superhighway” connecting the East Coast through the mountains to Ohio, had just been completed to points three miles north of the revival. Quite likely, the dapper stranger named Dylks came in from the East on this fine new macadam road. On the last day of the revival, some very solemn preaching was going on when suddenly, during one particularly reverent moment of silence, there came a
Now & Then
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Painting of an early 1800s camp meeting
thunderous shout of “Salvation!” followed by a chilling, inhuman-sounding noise like the snort of a frightened horse. All eyes focused on its source, the mysterious stranger. Though none recalled seeing this man enter the gathering, his fine clothing and long hair streaming to the center of his back set him apart from all the other congregants, many barefoot, dressed in ruder garments. For the remainder of that afternoon’s service, he maintained a solemn and almost melancholy aspect that impressed those who watched him as a sign of deep reverence. In the evening, he again startled all with his shout and snort. These were soon to become his trademark. As the camp meeting ended, many of the locals introduced themselves to the well-dressed stranger and invited him to be a guest in their homes. Described as being five feet, eight inches tall and 45 to 50 years of age, he was found to be polite, well-spoken, and very