Carl Sandburg’s Connemara
and Erica Sweatman
Welcome to Connemara! While walking up the hill to Sandburg’s home, you will meet the sweet smell of native fragrant plants that are native to the Flat Rock area. The home sits atop a hill with a view of ten miles in radius. It was built in 1838 as an escape from the malaria-ridden and war-torn Charleston community. Enjoy the view of Mt. Mitchell on a clear day. Sandburg considered this his utopia.
Welcome to Connemara! While walking up the hill to Sandburg’s home, you will meet the sweet smell of native fragrant plants that are native to the Flat Rock area. The home sits atop a hill with a view of ten miles in radius. It was built in 1838 as an escape from the malaria-ridden and war-torn Charleston community. Enjoy the view of Mt. Mitchell on a clear day. Sandburg considered this his utopia.
Meet the Champion by Tracy Butler, Jamie Lovello,
Rebecca Smith, and Kris Turner
Rebecca Smith, and Kris Turner
Carl Sandburg referred to his wife as a “champion breeder of a champion.” Simply dressed, Mrs. Sandburg in her light green cotton floral dress and Carl in his long khaki twill pants trudged to the barn together to care for the prize winning goat, Jennifer II. In 1960 she broke the world record for milk production. She produced 5,750 pounds of milk in one year. French type goat milk cheese is one of the products produced from her milk. The sweet, creamy nature of the cheese is contrasted by the slightly bitter after taste. The special bitter after taste, unique to Connemara, was caused by the dry, sage grass grown there.
Nestled in the surroundings of Glassy Mountain, you will find a panoramic view from the pinnacle of Connemara. Strolling through the nature trail, which is less than a mile hike, the scent of fresh clean mountain air leads you over pebbles and rocks.
Natalia Simmons
Known as the voice of the working classes of America, Carl Sandburg’s move from Chicago to Connemara in the North Carolina mountains encouraged his work into the later years of his life. Tucked into a private corner of his home, Sandburg studied the papers for stories of America’s people. Pens or pencils, it didn’t matter. It was the power of words which came through his hand to the elongated cylinder filled with ink to express his ideas and concerns for the common working class people. The paper was the receptacle for Sandburg’s ideas. Blank pages, waiting to be filled, still lie in cubbies atop the antique wooden desk. Visit Connemara and see where Carl Sandburg lived and worked.
Connemara in the Winter by Angie Neal and Nicole Walgate

Located in historic Flat Rock, North Carolina, Carl Sandburg’s home becomes dressed in cottony-white during the winter months. Carl’s home fought the ensuing cold from November-February with three separate chimneys to warm his most prized possessions. The rocks and evergreens surrounding the home shield it from the enveloping winter storms and provided an inspiring landscape for this writer. The bark on the trees provided a sticky landing for the feathery flakes of snow. The fallen branches became a soundtrack of a crispy crunches as he walked among this peaceful winter scape!
Known as the voice of the working classes of America, Carl Sandburg’s move from Chicago to Connemara in the North Carolina mountains encouraged his work into the later years of his life. Tucked into a private corner of his home, Sandburg studied the papers for stories of America’s people. Pens or pencils, it didn’t matter. It was the power of words which came through his hand to the elongated cylinder filled with ink to express his ideas and concerns for the common working class people. The paper was the receptacle for Sandburg’s ideas. Blank pages, waiting to be filled, still lie in cubbies atop the antique wooden desk. Visit Connemara and see where Carl Sandburg lived and worked.
Connemara in the Winter by Angie Neal and Nicole Walgate
Located in historic Flat Rock, North Carolina, Carl Sandburg’s home becomes dressed in cottony-white during the winter months. Carl’s home fought the ensuing cold from November-February with three separate chimneys to warm his most prized possessions. The rocks and evergreens surrounding the home shield it from the enveloping winter storms and provided an inspiring landscape for this writer. The bark on the trees provided a sticky landing for the feathery flakes of snow. The fallen branches became a soundtrack of a crispy crunches as he walked among this peaceful winter scape!

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