Appalachian History – Page 2

January 10, 2023January 9, 2023

Staying Warm (An Analogy)

I was raised in a farmhouse built in the late forties. When I was a teenager, my room was in the very back of the house equipped with a space-heater. I preferred to sleep without the heater. Fortunately, my mother was a quilter, so there was an unlimited supply of quilts. When it was very cold, I slept with a big pile of quilts on me. I felt so warm and cozy under all those quilts. On a rainy winter morning with the rain making music on the metal roof, it was difficult to crawl out and hit the cold floor.

October 25, 2022October 25, 2022

Community

Growing up, I lived three miles up a country road from a major four-lane highway. Traveling up Sand Valley Road as a child of ten years old, I could name every family of every home on that three-mile stretch. Fifty-seven years later, many of those homes are filled with strangers.

June 16, 2022June 16, 2022

For the Men in Grubby Ole Caps

NOTE: Happy Father’s Day! This post is about hardworking men with dirty fingernails because it is Father’s Day, but we love and appreciate hard working women too!

I have an old grubby cap they I usually wear when I’m working outside. It has never been washed and probably never will be. At this point it has its own history. It was promotional cap from a business, so I got it for free. The ole cap is well broke in about like me. There are some frayed threads, stains, and the dark color has faded from the sun and rain. When I eventually throw it away, I will revisit a few memories.

March 30, 2022March 30, 2022

Old Men

I remember when I was a boy looking at old men in wonderment. They were either my grandfather or someone else’s grandfather. I knew my granddaddy was once a farmer and he still dabbled with farming. He helped my Daddy with a few things, had a garden, and sometimes had a little patch of corn. He got a few dollars every month from the plan put in place by FDR.

January 18, 2022January 18, 2022

Quarters for Lunch

When I was in elementary school, my mother would tie up five quarters in a handkerchief on Monday for my week’s lunch money. Yes, lunch was only a quarter. Lunch was on a light green rectangle tray with sections for the different foods. White milk was our only drink option which means there were no drink options. I loved Fridays because it was either a hamburger or a hot dog plus the other stuff. The fish sticks with the dark spots I hated.

December 20, 2021December 20, 2021

Christmas, More Than a Cute Story

Somewhere along the way, Christmas became morphed into a nice “Hallmark Channel” feel-good story told with hot chocolate in hand before a cozy fire. What is there not to like about a young couple away from home delivering a baby in a stable? Light the star, cue the shepherds and “Action!”

August 13, 2021August 12, 2021

Once Upon a Time…

Many children’s stories opened up with the phrase, “Once upon a time…”. When I was a child, the old timers started many of their stories with, “When I was a boy…”. It was the men in Liberty overalls form of “Once upon a time…” Now, I am probably labeled an old timer by most even though I don’t wear overalls.

June 18, 2021June 18, 2021

Hands of My Father

We were at a reunion gathering of our extended family when a distant cousin excitedly called his wife over to see my dad’s hands. He was amazed that Daddy’s hands looked like his deceased father’s hands. I looked at my hands and they looked like Dad’s. Two of my brother’s hands are also similar.

May 8, 2021May 8, 2021

Generations of Mothers

Mother’s Day rolls around every year to give honor to our mothers. We shower our living mothers with presents, special meals, and recognition. Those who have gone from our midst, we shower with accolades of remembrance and honor.

This year I thought about the generational line of women in my life from my grandparents to my four granddaughters. The grandmothers to the mothers of the future.

September 7, 2020September 6, 2020

Work With Your Own Hands

I was raised in a working-class family who had risen out of Depression Era poverty. Most of our neighbors were either poor or slowly rising to middle-class status. Our exposure to rich people was rare.