"The 'Falls' can be distinctly heard in nearly every quarter of our city.- Their ceaseless monotone, not unlike the moan of pines shaken by the winds, mingles with the busy hum of life on our streets by day, and floats through them by night like an echo from the past, and a voice of the ever on going present, blended in one stream of sound."

from the September 9, 1874 TUSCALOOSA WEEKLY TIMES

THE FALLS OF THE WARRIOR RIVER

.About two miles, by the water line, above the city of Tuscaloosa, a ledge of nearly perpendicular rocks, extends across the entire channel of the Warrior River, abutting on its banks on either side. At low water stages of the river, during the summer months, this ledge rises several feet above the surface of the waters below it, and forms an impassible barrier to navigation, which is still further obstructed by the shoals and rocks that swarm in the basin of the river, for more than a hundred miles above the ledge, which consequently forms the limit to which the stream is navigable from below. Over this ledge, the entire volume of the waters of the river pours in an unceasing flow, producing, by their plunge, a loud and continuous sound, which can be heard to the distance of several miles, in all directions. This waterfall is known as the "Warrior Falls," and forms a notable feature in the topography of the river, and in our suburban landscape.

It must have been very far back in the unchronicled centuries of the past, when these falls first lifted their voice of waters upon the air. Indeed, for aught that either geology or history has to say to the contrary, they may be coeval in age with the river itself, and their not unmusical sound may have formed the jubilant shout that heralded the first gliding of its waters from their mountain sources downward to the Gulf. At all events, we may safely assume that the "Warrior Falls" are of very ancient origin. For centuries before Columbus discovered America, and long before the Red Man became a dweller in the land, their solemn monotone broke the silence of the primeval woods which overshadow them, even yet.

Then the wild bird and the untamed denizens of the forest alone knew of their existence. The Indian, doubtless, often paused, as he passed near them in the hunt for game, or on the fierce raid of savage war, to listen to their solemn roar, and deemed it, perhaps, the voice of the "Great Spirit," whom he worshiped and feared, walking in the solitude of the woods. The bold DeSoto and his bearded marauders heard their sound, and wondered as they passed by and on in their phantom quest for gold. Next and last, came the pioneers, and then the later and present settlers of this portion of the State, in whose ears the "Falls"' ring out their watery chimes, as if a bell call to enterprise in utilizing their waste powers for manufacturing purposes.

 The "Falls" can be distinctly heard in nearly every quarter of our city, their ceaseless monotone, not unlike the moan of pines shaken by the winds, mingles with the busy hum of life on our streets by day, and floats through them by night like an echo from the past, and a voice of the ever on going present, blended into one stream of sound.