Rock Candy Mountain Resort was established in 1987 by a man named Mr. Nations and had been a booming business before, when Dogpatch USA was up and running. Dogpatch employees and touring performers often stayed here.
After Mr. Nations was accidentally killed in car wreck, his family sold it to Robin Bellach. It was then bought by the Richard (Woody) King signed by Rose Manno. He didn’t make payments, so the current owner is Rose Manno; she is now 83 and in a nursing home in Harrison.
The property is and has been and cared for by trusted friends for the past 15 years.
Note: “‘Big Rock Candy Mountain’ was a folk song first recorded by Harry McClintock in 1928 about a hobo’s idea of paradise. It is a place where “hens lay soft boiled eggs” and there are “cigarette trees.” McClintock claimed to have written the song in 1895, based on tales from his youth hoboing through the United States, but some believe that at least aspects of the song have existed for far longer.”
One evening as the sun went down And the jungle fire was burning, Down the track came a hobo hiking, And he said, “Boys, I’m not turning I’m headed for a land that’s far away Besides the crystal fountains So come with me, we’ll go and see The Big Rock Candy Mountains In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, There’s a land that’s fair and bright, Where the handouts grow on bushes And you sleep out every night Where the boxcars all are empty And the sun shines every day On the birds and the bees And the cigarette trees The lemonade springs Where the bluebird sings In the Big Rock Candy Mountains In the Big Rock Candy Mountains All the cops have wooden legs And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs The farmers’ trees are full of fruit And the barns are full of hay Oh I’m bound to go Where there ain’t no snow Where the rain don’t fall The wind don’t blow In the Big Rock Candy Mountains In the Big Rock Candy Mountains You never change your socks And the little streams of alcohol Come trickling down the rocks The brakemen have to tip their hats And the railroad bulls are blind There’s a lake of stew And of whiskey, too You can paddle all around ’em In a big canoe In the Big Rock Candy Mountains In the Big Rock Candy Mountains, The jails are made of tin And you can walk right out again, As soon as you are in There ain’t no short-handled shovels, No axes, saws or picks, I’ma goin’ to stay Where you sleep all day, Where they hung the Turk That invented work In the Big Rock Candy Mountains I’ll see you all this coming Fall In the Big Rock Candy Mountains” Songwriters: Harry Mcclintock / Sterling Sherwin