A Year-Round Guide to Franklin and Nantahala

For nine decades, Our State has made its way into homes across North Carolina, the United States, and the world. To celebrate, every month this year, we’re paying tribute to

Rosemary and Goat Cheese Strata

For nine decades, Our State has made its way into homes across North Carolina, the United States, and the world. To celebrate, every month this year, we’re paying tribute to

Trunk Show

For nine decades, Our State has made its way into homes across North Carolina, the United States, and the world. To celebrate, every month this year, we’re paying tribute to the readers who inspire us, offering a taste of our earliest recipes, and revisiting old stories with new insights. Follow along to find out how our past has shaped our present.


When the circus came to Louisburg in the early ’50s — proudly showing off its performers in a caravan through town — the elephants reigned on the parade.

On August 23, 1951, seven well-trained, normally calm Indian elephants suddenly bolted from the circus parade in terror, setting off a stampede for the ages. The elephants fled toward the outskirts of the small Franklin County town, heading for the Tar River. Presumably equally terrified spectators scrambled to avoid being squashed.

So what triggered the panicky pachyderms? The unlikely culprit was a small wire-haired terrier, who yapped and snapped at the trunk of the lead elephant, a three-ton female named Hank. When Hank wigged out, the others followed suit, trumpeting madly as they lumbered away. Their circus riders, clad in brightly spangled costumes, were tossed to the ground like banana peels but suffered only minor bruises.

The elephants cut through fields of tobacco and corn, startling a few farmers, who’d never dreamed that stampeding elephants might endanger their crops. It took several hours for a posse of circus workers, highway patrolmen, and farmers to round up the deserters, one of which was stuck in a swamp outside of town.

The State wrote about the incident in December 1971, reporting that “no serious damage was done, but no one will ever know how many folks were scared into giving up drink, going to church, etc., as the result of the unexpected and unannounced appearance of the elephants.”

This story was published on Jul 25, 2023

Jimmy Tomlin

Jimmy Tomlin is a Statesville native now living in High Point, he has written for Our State since 1998. He has been a feature writer and columnist for The High Point Enterprise since 1990. Tomlin has won numerous state, regional, and national writing awards.