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Showing posts with label Floyd County Kentucky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Floyd County Kentucky. Show all posts

Saturday, August 31, 2024

Wayland, Kentucky Homecoming, August 31, 2024

 

Today, August 31, 2024, my wife Candice & I attended the Wayland, Kentucky Homecoming and had a wonderful time.  The photo above is from the 2002 Wayland Homecoming by the Wayland Historical Society.    I do not know the actual date of the most recent previous homecoming but it might have been this one in 2002 since it was on the cover of the Historical Society newsletter which announced the event.  We arrived about 11am, registered at the Historical Society, greeted a few people we knew, listened to some music being played on the Historical Society porch, and went inside to wait for two friends to arrive whom we knew were going to attend. As we registered, we received a small goodie bag with a nice Wayland mug and two Wayland coasters along with a thank you note to members of the Historical Society.  We  had previously visited the Kentucky Mountain Sports Hall of Fame and Museum on April 8, 2017, when a traveling exhibition from the Smithsonian was at the museum.  I have also done some research at the Wayland Historical Society and written a couple of other blog posts about information I have found in their files, in particular the large collection of Elkhorn Coal Company employee records which they had the good fortune to locate in a company building which was donated to either the city or the Historical Society.  

Here is one photo of me and my two friends of over fifty years, Judy Tufts Combs and Genia DeCoursey Hall.  I also know that I need to get back into my hardcore exercise and diet routine.  I'm too heavy again and this photograph proves it. We were all among the first hippies in Eastern Kentucky in our young days and most of our views about life and world have not changed.  Judy and I are actually cousins since her mother was  Hicks who was descended from the same line of Hicks' from the Mousie, Kentucky area in Knott County. 


While we waited for our friends, a couple approached us and sat at our table who, as it so happened, were a distant cousin of mine, Earnest Keen, and his wife Jane who had traveled from their home in Ohio for the event.  Earnest and I had never met and, in the course of the conversation, realized that we were cousins.  His grandfather Timothy Hicks was the brother of my father Ballard Hicks and it turned out that I had actually probably known Uncle Tim better than Earnest had.  We exchanged stories about family, our lives, and exchanged small talk until my friends Eugenia "Genia" DeCoursey Hall and Judy Tufts Combs arrived.  Judy introduced me to a cousin and uncle of hers. The uncle was 98 years old and had traveled with his son from their home in Tennessee to be at the Wayland Homecoming.  The uncle was the son of David Tufts who had been a barber in Wayland for many years and whom I had known.  Judy and I are actually also cousins since her mother was a Hicks before she married Judy's father.  Genia and I have known each other about 55 years and over the last several years have reinvigorated our friendship.  She has been on a bad streak lately and her husband Jimmy "Hippy" Hall is currently hospitalized in Cabell Huntington Hospital in Huntington, West Virginia, after having severely burned himself while using gasoline to ignite a pile of brush.  He has also recently had multiple cardiac bypasses performed and could be said to still be in recovery from that surgery.  Judy was volunteering in the Fountain Room at the Historical Society and was in and out of our conversations during the day.  Genia had intended to meet us there for lunch before leaving for Huntington to visit Jimmy.  Genia, Earnest, and I walked from the Historical Society building to the local fire department parking lot to purchase pinto bean dinners for all of our group while Candice and Jane waited for us in the Fountain Room.  The pinto bean dinners were great eating, with the beans cooked in a large cast iron kettle over a wood fire in the fire department parking lot and were a fund raiser for charitable work the department does each year.  The photograph below is of me and my second cousin Earnest Keen. 


 

After we ate, Candice, Earnest, and I all went to the Wayland High School Gymnasium which has been recently restored and is a beautiful piece of work.  The one flaw in that project is that the Kentucky Mountain Sports Hall of Fame and Museum exhibits have been moved from a separate building which was wheelchair accessible to the upstairs seating area in the gymnasium which is totally inaccessible to anyone with a mobility impairment.  I will take that up with the management in the near future.  But the restoration project in the gymnasium has added new scoreboards and several banners which laud past achievements of a few of the best high school basketball teams in the days when Wayland was a high school and fielded basketball teams.   The teams on the banners include the only two teams Wayland High School ever sent to the Kentucky Sweet Sixteen tournament, in the 1950's when Kelly Coleman was a star and set many still current Kentucky High School records, and a second trip by a team nearly twenty years later.  Kelly Coleman also set several records in regular season play which still stand.  While a recent player who will be playing at UK is credited with breaking Kelly's career individual scoring record, Kelly set his records in four seasons without the shot clock or three point shot.  The more recent player who is now given credit as the individual points career record holder actually played at least two years of high school varsity basketball while he was still in grade school,  and had the benefit of both the shot clock and the three point shot.  After we spent some time in the gymnasium, a member of the Kentucky Mountain Sports Hall of Fame and Museum board of directors volunteered to take a photograph of Candice and I beside the Kelly Coleman statue outside the gymnasium.  After the photograph, we left for home.  Altogether, it was a great day and we both enjoyed it a great deal.  This photograph below is of my wife Candice and was shot in the parking area as Candice was listening to the music from the porch of the historical society building. 

This photograph below is one of myself and Candice with the statue of Kelly Coleman which stands outside the entrance to the renovated Wayland Gym.  It was graciously shot by a board member of the Kentucky Mountain Sports Hall of Fame and Museum. 




Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Hawley Warrens, Old Regular Baptist Minister, 1889--1977

 

Hawley Warrens was a long term minister of the Old Regular Baptist Church, New Salem Association, and served as the long term moderator of the Steele's Creek Old Regular Baptist Church.  He was born in Floyd County Kentucky at Minnie in 1889 and died at Hi Hat in 1977.  But he had lived the majority of his life on a farm at Dema in Knott County about a mile and a half south of the Floyd/Knott County line on Right Beaver Creek.  I apologize for the poor quality of the photo which I have located in the obituary in the Floyd County Times.  He was the son of Whitt Warrens and Nance Moore Warrens.  His first wife was Caroline Moore Warrens and they had eight children, five boys and three girls.  Caroline died very young in her middle forties and Hawley then married Mandy Layne who also died before Hawley. He was also married later in life to Dorothy Little Warrens. He joined the Old Regular Baptist Church in 1914 when he was about 25.  He had been a member of the church for about 63 years at the time of his death.  About 5 years after he joined the church, he was ordained as a minister in 1919 and continued to preach and work as an officer of the church for most of the remainder of his life.  His funeral was conducted at the Old Beaver New Salem Association Building on Left Beaver Creek in Floyd County near Minnie.  Due to his long service to the church and association, his funeral was attended by large numbers of people from the entire area served by the New Salem Association.  He had been one of the best loved and most respected members and ministers of the New Salem Association.  He was buried in the Turner Cemetery at Dema near the farm where he had lived most of his life. 

Friday, February 10, 2023

Murder And A 25 Cent Piece Of Scrip(1)

I have been doing some work related to a cemetery in Wayland, Kentucky, where several of my relatives are buried including one of my great-grandmothers, a great uncle, an uncle, and an aunt.  During the course of this effort, I have added obituaries for several of the people buried there to their memorials on Find A Grave.  During that effort, I found not an obituary for one man but rather two sizeable news stories in the archives of the Floyd County Times which are located on the website of the Floyd County Library which maintains a fairly large and very useful local history collection containing newspaper files, historic photographs, a few sound recordings, and assorted other items of interest to both amateur and semi-professional genealogists and researchers.   

The man whose obituary I found contained in those two news stories was named John Franklin "Frank" Collins who died on May 27, 1934, at the age of 40.  Frank, as he was known, died at the hands of a local store owner in Estill, Kentucky, just a few miles from where Frank worked, lived, and has been buried for nearly ninety years. Frank was shot on a Saturday which would have been his day off from his job at the Elkhorn Coal Company mine in Wayland. He died the next day on a Sunday and a warrant was issued for the charge of murder against his assailant on Tuesday due to the fact that it was also Memorial Day on Monday.  Below is the full text of the article from the front page of the Floyd County Times edition of June 1, 1934.  It is interesting that the story about Frank's death is one of three stories about murders in the area that week.  Another story details the news of a shooting in which the victim survived. Admittedly, Frank Collins died almost twenty years before I was born in the area at Lackey in Knott County about a mile from Estill where Frank died.  I spent the first six years of my life on Steele's Creek. About a mile from the store in which I spent those first six years is the mouth of Steele's Creek, the site of the town of Wayland and the Elkhorn Coal Company mine where Frank worked.  I spent the next 14 or so years living in a second store my father had built at Dema, Kentucky, in Knott County about three miles from Wayland.  I have extensive knowledge of the area and its history. 

 Under the headline "Murder Warrant Issued For Craft" with the subhead "Estill Merchant Charged With Fatal Shooting Of Frank Collins Saturday", the news story/obituary about the murder of Frank Collins appeared in the June 1, 1934 edition of The Floyd County Times.  

"A warrant charging John Craft, Estill merchant, with murder was issued here Tuesday, following the death of Frank Collins, 40 years old, from the effects of a revolver bullet fired into his neck Saturday afternoon by Craft.  Craft had already been arrested and brought here Sunday morning when he was booked on a charge of shooting and wounding.  He executed $5,000 bond.  Collins died in the Beaver Valley Hospital, Martin, later Sunday.  Craft's bullet struck him low in the neck, ranged downward, and emerged from his back.  The shooting took place in Craft's store.  According to the merchant, Collins came into the store where he engaged in an altercation with Sol Bradley, who knocked him down.  Craft ordered the men outside, he said.  In the meantime, he stated Collins' small daughter had made a 15 cent purchase at the store offering 25 cents in scrip(1) as payment.  The merchant said he  had no scrip(1) change and soon after Collins and the child returned to the store, the father starting an argument over the change.  When Collins advanced on him with a knife, the merchant said he fired.  The other version of the affair, as told to Tbe Times, says that Craft was drunk and Collins was being taken from the store by his wife and a man when Craft leaped across a counter and fired.  This statement claims that Collins was unarmed.  The victim was a son of Mart Collins.  He is survived by his widow and five children.  Funeral rites were conducted Tuesday under the direction of G. D. Ryan, in the Collins Cemetery, three miles above Wayland.  Ministers officiating at the funeral were M. C. Wright and Earl Howard of the Regular Baptist Church. 

 

The photo above is of the Beaver Valley Hospital in Martin, Kentucky, where Frank Collins was treated before his death. The building no longer exists. It was typical of many small, privately owned, small town hospitals in the coal fields in the first half of the twentieth century.  It had only minimal surgical and little or no intensive care capacities and would not have been capable of providing appropriate care, by today's standards, for a victim of a serious gunshot wound. It was also not common for anyone to be transported to other larger, better equipped hospitals in the 1930's.  The hospital sat at the upper end of the town of Martin at what is now the location of the Nelson-Frazier Funeral Home.  I have actually received minimal outpatient care there as a teenager.  

When we read the newspaper story of the shooting and death of Frank Collins, we are struck by several aspects of the story.  First, Frank Collins was murdered in the sight of his small daughter.  I have little doubt that the child, who is unnamed in the newspaper stories, was traumatized by that event for the rest of her life.  Second, there are clearly two very conflicting stories about the shooting.  The shooter, John Craft, claimed he shot Frank Collins in self defense when he was threatened with a knife.  Mrs. Collins and one other person, the man who was helping her take Frank out of the store, both apparently claimed that Frank was unarmed and suffered the  gunshot as they were taking him out of the store.  Third, Craft claimed that Frank had been knocked down by a man named Sol Bradley during some sort of altercation.  Yet, the news story contains no statement from Sol Bradley.  I cannot say that I ever really knew Sol Bradley but I knew in my childhood who he was and never heard a negative word about him regarding brawling or any other sort of violent behavior.  But it would be interesting to know if there was some sort of family, business, or friendship connection between Sol Bradley and John Craft.  Fourth, and this is the most striking aspect of the entire story, the 25 cent piece of scrip(1) and the 10 cents of change owed seems to have been a key element of whatever happened.  It would be shocking to think that John Craft was willing to kill a man over 10 cents in change owed on a 25 cent piece of scrip(1).  It would be just as shocking to know that he was willing to kill a man over the entire 25 cent piece of scrip(1).  And, of course, there is also the accusation by Frank's widow and the unknown man who was helping her take Frank out of the store that John Craft was drunk.  There is a great deal left unsaid in that news story which we do not know and which would have given us a far better understanding of why John Craft was willing to shoot and kill Frank Collins.
 
In the September 21, 1934, edition of the Floyd County Times, a single sentence is tacked onto the end of a story about another man from the area who had been convicted of an unconnected murder.  That sentence reads: John Craft was on trial Thursday, as The Times went to press, charged with the murder of Frank Collins at Estill.  

There is another news story in the Floyd County Times the following week on September 28, 1934, under the headline "Craft Draws 21 Years In Prison".  The subhead to that story refers to a different murder case and the two stories are discussed in alternating sections of the single story covering both.  The opening paragraph of the story discusses Craft's conviction for the Frank Collins murder.  
"For the second time within a week, a jury in the Floyd Circuit Court gave a 21 year penitentiary sentence to a man accused of murder.  John Craft, accused of the murder of Frank Collins at Estill a few months ago, received the last sentence. 

The next two paragraphs in the story discuss two completely unrelated murder cases before resuming the discussion of the sentence given to John Craft.  

"In the trial of Craft, the Commonwealth gave evidence showing that he had shot Collins after the latter had been knocked down in an altercation with a man named Bradley and after Craft, a merchant, had ordered Collins to leave his store.  This testimony claimed that Collins was offering no resistance and had turned to leave when shot.  The defense sought to show that the merchant fired, thinking that Collins was armed and fearing that he would kill Craft."  

And that is the entirety of the newspaper coverage of the murder of Frank Collins and the trial and sentencing of John Craft for that murder.  Just as the first newspaper story left unaddressed several issues the disclosure and discussion of which would have made the coverage far more enlightening, this story also leaves several unanswered questions about the case.  First, who testified in the trial?  Were the only witnesses John Craft and the Widow Collins, who is not named by first name in either story?  Did Sol Bradley or the man who was helping Mrs. Collins take her husband out of the store testify?  Did the prosecutor and judge force Frank's small daughter to testify?  Did the police officer(s) who arrested John Craft and interrogated him testify?  Second, was medical evidence presented to the court by the doctor in charge at Beaver Valley Hospital which could have proven where Frank Collins was standing in relation to John Craft when he was shot?  Third, who was John Craft's attorney?  Fourth, was the issue of a 25 cent piece of scrip(1) and 10 cents in change owed ever raised in court?  Could that issue, if it was raised, have increased the jury's willingness to set a lengthy sentence in the case?  

Since I first became aware of the murder of Frank Collins and began writing this blog post, I have not had time to drive to Prestonsburg, Kentucky, the county seat of Floyd County and search for the Circuit Court records at the Circuit Court Clerk's office.  I will do that in the near future and, if those records exist, I will obtain copies of them and add the information they contain to this blog post.  I also have easy access to whatever employment records are still extant for the Elkhorn Coal Company which are now in the possession of the Wayland Historical Society and I will also search those records to see what pertinent information they might contain about Frank Collins. It is also possible that John Craft might have worked for that company for some time before owning his store just as my own father did before owning his.  I will also search for John Craft's employment records.  This is a very interesting small town Eastern Kentucky murder case from the heart of the Great Depression and the involvement of a 25 cent piece of scrip(1) in the events makes it even more intriguing.  Did John Craft murder Frank Collins just because of a 25 cent piece of scrip(1) or the 10 cents in change which he did not have in scrip(1)?  Was either amount of coinage worth the price of a poor coal miner's life? 

 

 

(1) I just cannot pass up one very necessary opportunity to act as a member of the Grammar Police.  The word "scrip" does not have a "t" at the end.  It is spelled "SCRIP" not "SCRIPT".  Scrip is a form of corporate currency which is rarely used in the world today but was common in the early 20th century in America especially with large coal mining and timber companies.  A "Script" is a written communication such as a "Script" for a play, movie, speech, or oral presentation.  "Script" can also be used to describe a general form of type face either on a computer, typewriter, or printing press.  

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

"Kentucky's Last Frontier" by Henry P. Scalf--Reflections On The Book

 

Henry P. Scalf was a newspaperman, genealogist, and Appalachian writer who lived from 1902 until 1979.  For many years, he worked for the "Floyd County Times" in Prestonsburg, Kentucky, and wrote on nearly every subject that a small courthouse town newspaper might cover.  He was also an avid student of the history of Eastern Kentucky and wrote and published several works which ranged from several pamphlet sized works including one about Jenny Wiley, an early Eastern Kentucky pioneer woman who was captured by and escaped from a band of native Americans, and about a half dozen genealogical books during his lifetime.  Much of his writing, documents, and books are in the Special Collections Department at the University Of Pikeville Library which I have used more than once in my research. I own one of his dozen or so self-published genealogical books about the Stepp-Stapp Families of America.  His best work was done in the fields of newspaper writing and genealogy.  Most of his books and pamphlets were self published in small editions and can be difficult to locate on the open market.  

I was able to purchase an autographed copy of the book we are discussing here, "Kentucky's Last Frontier" which was self published as a hardback in 1966 with a foreword by the eminent Kentucky historian Thomas D. Clark.  My copy of the book was part of the estate of another Kentucky newspaper writer, Helen Price Stacy and I was lucky enough to buy several works by other regional writers from her collections after they had passed into the hands of a friend who buys and sells antiques.  The book covers a "12-county area, centered by the Big Sandy, Licking, and North Fork Kentucky rivers...With a few southeastern counties of the state, it constituted "Kentucky's Last Frontier."  My copy is, sadly, not in great condition but due to the difficulty of finding a copy in any condition, I was glad to find it.  The book covers a large segment of the history of Eastern Kentucky from the times of early settlement to about 1955 or so.  It is possibly, at least partially, derived from earlier newspaper articles written by Scalf.  While the book is a wonderful resource for the student of Eastern Kentucky and Appalachian history, it does have several weaknesses including Scalf's unique style of documentation of sources and inclusion of notes.  Many times in the book, quotations are not clearly identified in the text and there is a section of notes which covers 109 pages in the back of the book and the notes are not cited in the text by any currently recognized system.  But these issues are offset by the fact that the Bibliography is 6 pages long and well documented.  Any reader with the desire to read all those documented sources would have a strong background in the history of the region up to the time this book was published.  

The book is composed of 25 chapters which are presented chronologically from an opening chapter about the geologic and prehistoric origins of the region to the final chapter about, in part, the widespread coal, oil, and gas extraction in the region which has served to greatly damage the beauty of the land.  There is a fine discussion of the consequences of the 1957 flood which devastated the region and, until the recent Eastern Kentucky flooding of the summer of 2022.  While the book can be a slow read, it is well worth the effort to find and read a copy if you are a student of either Eastern Kentucky or Appalachian History.  I know that there are copies in both the University of Pikeville library and at the library of Big Sandy Community and Technical College.  I suspect there might also be a copy in the collections of the Johnson County Library in Paintsville since they own a large, publicly available but non-circulating regional books.   I hope you can locate a copy if you are interested in the area which it covers. 

Thursday, August 4, 2022

Some Thoughts On "Crossing The Bar" by Alfred Lord Tennyson

There was a clue on "Jeopardy" quite a while ago about the poem, "Crossing The Bar" by Alfred Lord Tennyson, which is one of the most well known poems about death other than possibly "Thanatopsis" by William Cullen Bryant. Because the language is a bit simpler and the poem much shorter than in "Thanatopsis", "Crossing The Bar" was for many years one of the most often printed pieces on the back of funeral memorial cards in Appalachia. I have a sizeable collection of such memorial cards and wrote about them in the blog post at the preceding link. I have probably seen it on the cards at a hundred or more funerals in my life. It is a great little poem and, in it's own way, a major part of Appalachian history and culture.
 
With the recent massive flooding in Eastern Kentucky and the still unfinished search for the likely dead, many more of those memorial cards in being printed in several of the most Appalachian counties in Kentucky.  One of those is my native Knott County and, luckily, so far I have not heard of anyone being among the dead from my relatives and acquaintances.  I also have deep ties to Floyd County which has had severe flooding especially in Wayland and Garrett on Right Beaver Creek and all up Left Beaver Creek, all of which lies in Floyd County.   I spent the first 6 years of my life on Steele's Creek in Floyd County just a mile from Wayland and still have many friends and relatives there.  The next 17 years of my life were spent on Right Beaver Creek at Dema in Knott County just about three miles from Wayland.  Most of my closest friends during my teenage years were from Wayland including my two cousins, more like brothers, Jack and Johnny Terry.  It is horrible to think of having anyone die in a flood and it is just as horrible to know that several thousand people in about 7 counties in Eastern Kentucky are now homeless because of this flood.  So, in memory of the dead from the Eastern Kentucky floods of July 29, 2022, here is the complete text of "Crossing The Bar".
 
Crossing the Bar
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson
 
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
 

 

 

The Genius Of Joel Pett And The Inability Of Appalachians To Understand It

 

A few days ago, the Lexington Herald-Leader published this cartoon as part of their ongoing coverage of the Eastern Kentucky flooding and it literally caused a storm of strong, often totally irrational, comments about how horrible the cartoon was, how little Joel Pett understands Eastern Kentucky and Appalachia, and how "he done us wrong".  First of all, let me tell you about Joel Pett's resume as a political cartoonist and a little about my resume as an expert on Eastern Kentucky and Appalachia before I tell you what I think about Joel Pett, his work in general, and this cartoon in particular.  Joel Pett, after having done freelance cartoon work for about 15 years, following his graduation from Indiana University, began working as the staff cartoonist for the Lexington Herald-Leader in 1984.  His cartoons regularly appear in many of the best national newspapers including the Washington Post, the New York Times, the Los Angeles Times, and the Boston Globe.  He has won the 1995 Global Media Award and the 1999 Robert F. Kennedy Journalism Award.  But those are not the greatest awards his work has earned.  Joel Pett has actually won the Pulitzer Prize, count them, ONE< TWO<THREE>FOUR times,  and was a finalist for the Pulitzer twice more.  That's not bad, folks!  He has also been chosen at times as a jurist for the Pulitzer Prize.  

Now, let me tell you a little about myself and my qualifications to speak on the subject of Appalachia, Appalachian Culture, poverty, and Eastern Kentucky.  First of all, since Knott County Kentucky is the worst hit of the counties being discussed in the news about the flooding, I was born and raised in Knott County.  I grew up in a country store where for many years my parents dealt, on a daily basis, with a broad selection of Knott Countians.  I grew up walking up to ten miles a week to sell Grit newspapers, garden seeds, Cloverine Salve, and Rosebud Salve to my neighbors.  I graduated from Knott County High School, not the new Knott County Central High School.  I grew up in the KCHS in the photo below which was built by the WPA in 1939 on Caney Creek which just a few years before was having mail delivered by mule back.  


I attended Upward Bound for one year on the Stuart Robinson Campus in Letcher County at Blackey.  I attended it another year at Alice Lloyd College on Caney Creek in Knott County.  I also attended, but did not graduate from Alice Lloyd College.  I also attended the Southern Appalachian Circuit of Antioch College in Beckley, West Virginia, but did not graduate from that institution which was primarily a training ground for young Appalachian writers, several of whom have gone on to become respected writers on the subject of Appalachia.  I received a Bachelor of Social Work degree from Morehead State University and a Master of Education Degree in Counseling and Human Development degree from Lindsey Wilson College and served as an adjunct instructor in the same program for about 3 years for LWC.  I have worked as a door to door salesman out of Logan, West Virginia, primarily in the counties of Logan, Mingo, Boone, Lincoln, Wayne, Wyoming,  and McDowell in West Virgina, and in the counties of Pike and Martin in Kentucky.  I have worked as a mental health and substance abuse therapist in Montgomery, Breathitt, Jackson, and Wolfe Counties.  I also  have a Kentucky auctioneer license and have held auctions, several hundred actually, in Floyd, Letcher, Johnson, Magoffin, Morgan, Fayette, and Kenton counties in Kentucky.  I am a regularly published writer on the subject of Appalachia including professional articles on the subject of Culturally Appropriate Counseling in Appalachia.  I tend to believe that most judges would accept me as an expert on Appalachia and Appalachian Culture.  

Now that you know who Joel Pett and I both are, let's talk about the cartoon above, which has caused so much ire in Eastern Kentucky.  The cartoon is very simply and directly worded and drawn as a cartoon version of several well known photographs of Eastern Kentucky residents clinging to roofs during the recent flooding. The language in the cartoon is simple, direct, and a bit unnerving I will admit.  It says just eight words and they are powerful words.  "When it rains, it pours on poor people."  Since the cartoon talks about poverty, let me add one more resume line for myself to prove I am also an expert on poverty.  I worked for 8 years at the Hope Center in Lexington, Kentucky, which is a large, inner city homeless shelter.  I know poverty, both in the city and in the country.  

To help us understand what poverty means in Eastern Kentucky let's look at the reality of poverty in the counties which have been involved in this disaster.  Floyd County has a 32.4% poverty rate.  Breathitt County has a 32.5% poverty rate.  Knott County has a 32.1% poverty rate.  Letcher County has a 31.1% poverty rate.  Perry County has a 28.9% poverty rate.  Johnson County has a 25.0% poverty rate.  Pike County has a 23.8% poverty rate and yet in the 1970's was often touted as having more millionaires per capita than any other county in the country due to the coal boom. These are some of the highest poverty rates in the entire nation.  Nearly a third of the population in all these counties are below the poverty level.  So now let's look at how poverty works and just how precise Joel Pett was in this cartoon in getting directly to the point of the consequences of a major disaster in an area where such a large percentage of the population is poor.  

Poor people have little or no resources, weak social support systems, and little recourse to supportive means when times get hard.  Times don't ever get any harder than when your living quarters and every thing you own have been washed down Troublesome Creek, Squabble Creek, or Beaver Creek and you and whatever is left of your family are clinging to a tree or a barn roof in a muddy flood.  Poor people never live in the best houses in the best locations in any community. They live in poorly built houses and trailers in low lying land where the better off locals didn't want to build a house but were perfectly happy to gain some side income by placing rental property in bottom land they no longer farm.  Poor people rarely own their own homes and almost never have renters insurance because, if at the first of the month, you have a choice to pay either your rent and utilities or your renter's insurance, you pay what keeps a roof over your head and some basic food necessities for the next month.  Poor people often have poor to no credit ratings.  When everything you own has been washed down a muddy stream, you can't run out to the Ford dealer and buy a new truck or car.  You can't run down to the local bank and borrow money for a new double wide on higher ground.  You do damn well to buy two changes of used clothes at Goodwill for each member of your family.  Poor people don't have large amounts of savings and often have none. Poor people often don't have computers or internet.  If they have a telephone, it is usually a prepaid phone and often out of minutes. When you live from paycheck to paycheck, you can't suddenly find a new place to rent, pay a deposit, buy a full replacement of clothing, food, utensils, and bed clothes for a family.  You can't just get up, dust yourself off, say "well, that was a pretty bad little storm", and trot off to another set of living quarters in new Levis.  Poor people rarely have life insurance, health insurance, car insurance, or any assurance that they can survive a blowout on the 20 year old car they are driving to a minimum wage job, or a new refrigerator if the old one dies. When a family member dies among the poor, they usually have no life insurance, no savings, and no way to pay for a funeral and this flood has caused far too many funerals.  I personally know several funeral home owners who often bury people on credit with little or no down payments and hope they will be paid someday and be able to survive in business by getting paid by other concerned contributors and the profits they earn on high dollar funerals for the well to do.  I also know one less compassionate undertaker who will not touch a body until he has enough money in hand to cover the cost of his materials or has a mortgage on a piece of hillside land.  That is how the poor get treated on many occasions. The reality of poverty is that when you are poor, you are poor 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, and, if it's leap year February 29 is just another day of poverty.  

So that should bring us back to Joel Pett's cartoon and the reality of being poor in a major disaster.  Those eight words, "When it rains, it pours on poor people", have caused a great deal of ire in Eastern Kentucky and Appalachia.  I had one friend who, despite growing up poor in Floyd County attempted to compare Joel Pett to J. D. Vance, the worst enemy of Appalachian people since Harry Caudill.  That is like comparing Mahatma Gandhi to Adolph Hitler.  I saw another lengthy diatribe from a woman on social media who kept ranting about being a "proud hillbilly" and how ignorant Joel Pett is.  I am certain that woman has no idea that the word "hillbilly" is never a matter of pride.  It is just as defamatory, demeaning, and debilitating as the "N" word, the "K" word, the "Q" word, or the "C" word. It is a cultural and ethnic epithet and no member of any cultural or ethnic minority should ever resort to referring to themselves by the same misnomers their detractors use. When I confront people of any ethnic or minority group about their use of these cultural and ethnic epithets in reference to themselves, I frequently hear them say it is an appropriation of the words which empowers them.  By the same logic, which is deeply flawed, we could say that any suspect in a police interrogation should eventually confess whether or not they committed the crime in question. Using such a word about oneself with a note of pride in the voice is a sure sign the user is uninformed and unlikely to benefit from future enlightenment. What I have seen in the hundreds of comments about Joel Pett and his work falls into two categories.  The poorly educated, ill informed, and less fortunate commenters think Joel Pett made a personal attack on them, their families, and their pet dog.  The better educated, better informed, and more fortunate Appalachian commenters see the truth in Joel Pett's eight little words and are glad he is speaking out in defense of the poor of Eastern Kentucky as they try to pull themselves up by the boot straps one more time in the face of a horrible disaster.  The cartoon in question is another case of Joel Pett hitting the nail on the head with his art work and his words.  That cartoon is another example of why the best newspapers in the country regularly publish his work. That cartoon is another shining example of why Joel Pett has been nominated for the Pulitzer Prize six times and won it four. That cartoon is a masterpiece.  Those eight little words are right on point.  "When it rains, it pours on poor people."  That cartoon is proof, once again, that Joel Pett is a genius. 


Sunday, March 29, 2020

"I Bought Me A Dog A Dozen Authentic Folktales From The Southern Mountains" Collected by Leonard Roberts--Book Review

Dr. Leonard Roberts--Photo by Lynneda Stansbury

Dr. Leonard Ward Roberts, Ph. D., was the premier folklorist and collector of both folk tales and folk songs during his tragically abbreviated career which ended on April 26, 1988, at the age of 71 when he was involved in a fatal wreck with a coal truck as he was pulling onto US 23 at the mouth of Mare Creek near Betsy Layne in Floyd County Kentucky where he had lived most of his life. He published a total of 8 books during his career, all of which were collections of folktales or folksongs from Central and Southern Appalachia except for "The McCoys: Their Story" which was about the famous McCoy family of the notorious feud along the Kentucky/West Virginia border.  This little book we are discussing was the first of his published books and is actually more a pamphlet than a full fledged book; but, it is well worth reading if you can locate a copy.  It was published in 1954 by the Council of The Southern Mountains in Berea, Kentucky, and was reprinted in at least 20 printings until at least 1982.  But, I suspect that most of those printings were small and the book is difficult to find.  At the time of its publication, this book was apparently popular enough with lovers of folklore and Appalachian Studies that it did sell several hundred to a few thousand copies.  Good luck if you try to find a copy! 

The book is a pamphlet of 48 unnumbered pages and contains 12 Appalachian folktales and 13 Appalachian riddles.  It is a fun read whether or not you have ever been exposed to the folktale format which traveled with the early settlers from the British Isles to the colonies in America, and thence across the Cumberland Gap into the heart of Appalachia where the social isolation of the mountains can be credited with at least part of their ability to survive into the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. These kinds of oral folktales exist in many forms in nearly all areas and cultures of the world.  In a way, what it boils down to is that after a long day as a hunter gatherer, it was comforting and pleasurable around the family fire to tell or listen to fantastic stories being told by anyone who was willing to stand up and speak out in the folktale form.  Thousands, if not millions, of these folktales arose and were preserved by both tellers and listeners, some of whom went on to either become or rear future court jesters, bards, balladeers, and strolling minstrels. Roberts devoted his life to teaching in several Kentucky colleges, (Berea College, Morehead State University, Union College, and Pikeville College) collecting folktales and folk songs, and to publishing as the driving force of what became the Pikeville College Press.  The tales in this little book represent several types of the genre and include one, "The Candy Doll", which Roberts says, in the brief introduction, is the only version he has ever seen of it in America.  It is a witch story which Roberts says he collected from a 12 year old girl in Leslie County Kentucky. Actually, another of the stories was also provided to Roberts by a different young girl in Eastern Kentucky. The "Candy Doll" contains what Roberts calls the element of "Murder by Sympathetic Magic".  There are also folktales in the collection which represent giant tales; hunting tales; wise fox tales; and another which is sometimes referred to as his most well known, "Raglif, Jaglif, Tetarlif, Pole", which is about a man attempting to escape from the clutches of a giant.  

This is a fine little book to utilize to introduce yourself both to the work of Leonard Roberts and to the field of Appalachian Folklore.  If you cannot locate a copy of this book, you can generally always find copies of "Up Cutshin & Down Greasy" or "South From Hell-Fer-Sartin".  Reading any of Leonard Roberts' books will also serve as a wonderful introduction to that ever growing group of Big Sandy River Valley natives such as Dr. Roberts, The Judds, Crystal Gayle, Chris Stapleton, Molly O'Day, Loretta Lynn, Cratis Williams, and US Supreme Court Chief Justice Fred Vinson who have, over the last century plus, wielded such a powerful cultural influence on the entire nation in roles as varied as academic scholar, supreme court justice, Bluegrass singer, country singer college basketball coach, and ballet dancer. 

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Growing Up In A Country Store


 The Country Store
When my parents brought me home from the hospital in 1951, they carried me through the front door of their country store on Steele's Creek near Wayland in Floyd County Kentucky.  I had been born at the old Lackey Hospital in Knott County.  That building still exists but has, for many years, been a personal care home for the chronically mentally ill and is now known as Golden Years Rest Home.  The first 20 years of my life were spent in a country store named for my father and known as B. L. Hicks, General Merchandise. The first  six years of my life we lived and operated the store on Steele's Creek not far from Wayland, Kentucky.  In 1957, my parents built a new store and house on Right Beaver Creek at Dema, Kentucky, in Knott County.  This was about three or four miles up Beaver above Wayland. At the time, my aunt and uncle  Corbett and Ellen Terry were also operating a store, which they rented, on Beaver Creek about a mile below the Knott County line across Beaver Creek from the mouth of a hollow known as Collins Branch.  My parents and my aunt and uncle were always close and a plan was made to simultaneously move them into our store on Steele's Creek on the same day we moved out.  They continued to operate that store for several years until they eventually went out of business. They actually used the same truck and men to move both stores.  We would  haul a load from our store on Steele's Creek to our new store on Beaver Creek.  On the way back, they would haul a load from Corbett and Ellen's store on Beaver Creek to the store on Steele's Creek. We had emptied the feed room attached to the side of the store the day before the big move and as Corbett and Ellen's property was moved in it was put inside the feed room until we had emptied our side of the store and house part of the building.  Then Corbett and Ellen set up their property in the main building of the store and the attached living quarters. 

Ballard Hicks, Jr.  & Ballard Hicks In The Store, Photo by Roger D. Hicks


 For the next fourteen years we operated the store on Beaver Creek. By the time I could see over the counter and count change, I was working, or perhaps I only thought I was working, at least some of the time in the store.  By the time I was 12 or 14, if my parents needed to go to Martin, Prestonsburg, or Hindman to conduct business, I could generally be left alone in the store for a few hours at a time.  As I grew older and began to travel around, I would also, from time to time, be in other country stores.  I still go in them today when I can find one that is actually a real country store.  Based on all this history, I tend to believe I am an expert on country stores.

Ballard Hicks, Country Store Owner, Photo by Roger D. Hicks
 
My father bought the store on Steele's Creek sometime in 1945 after his first wife, Ora Hicks, became ill and he had to leave his job in the coal mines. I have recently found his employment records from Elkhorn Coal Company in Wayland, Kentucky, which actually documented on the record that he had bought a store and quit his job.  He ran the store until her death and continued to do so until we moved to Beaver Creek in 1957 as I have said above.  Sometime in the next year or so my father married my mother, Mellie Hicks.  They continued to operate the store on Steele's Creek and then Beaver Creek until a few months after my mother's death in 1970.  By that time, my father was 83 years old.  Other than his obituary which appeared in the Floyd County Times and the Minutes of The Old Regular Baptist Church, I know of only one other instance in which he is mentioned in print.  That third mention is a brief story in an oral history book, "Coal Camp Kids: Coming Up Hard And Making It", by Barbara Ford Ritch.  The comment says, in its entirety: "Ballard Hicks, Nora Jean Coontz recalled, had a grocery store at Steele's Creek.  'That is where I had to go to get feed for our horse.  He kept a case full of hard candy.  I would get two hundred pound bags of feed, and make sure the feed sacks were the same, because then Mom could make me a new skirt from the sacks.  Sometimes, I would get an orange Popsicle, and climb a big sycamore tree, eat that Popsicle, and wonder what my future would be.' "  That brief oral history account does or says many things for me.  It means that, at some time, someone other than me was positively affected by my father's country store.  It also says a few things about the way he ran his store and how most country stores in general were run in those days.  I have also recently on October 14, 2020, received another such memory from a man named Gary Perkins who lives at the mouth of Collins Branch between Wayland and the Knott County line about his trips to my parents' store on Beaver Creek.

BTW, was your father still running the store at Dema during the 1960‘s?  I can still recall purchasing soda pop (usually Orange Crush) at the store when visiting cemeteries in the area with my grandmother. It was usually during the middle of July and the soda pop was a welcomed treat. Take care, Gary

Although it is purely coincidental, I find it interesting  that in both comments, written quite a few years apart, both these people who were children when they visited my parents' store were choosing to have something with orange flavor as their treat and they remembered it fondly several decades later as adults.  My father would be very proud to know that if he were alive today.  Gary Perkins also went on to discuss in his e-mail another store owner in Hindman, Kentucky, the county seat of Knott County, whose name was Bramlett Clark.  I do not remember ever hearing my parents talk about this man and had never heard his name before.  But I do remember hearing about a man who worked at the Hindman Settlement School who was known as Professor Clark, or in the language of the time, Fesser Clark.  Here is Gary Perkins' comments about Bramlett Clark and his store.  

Our family traded at a small store in Hindman, KY., that was owned by a man named Bramlett Clark. He was the unofficial town historian, and it seems as if he knew everything past and present that took place in the town. I can remember my mother giving him a list of items she wanted to purchase. He would walk around the store, gather the items, ask if it was cash or credit (he may have used the term carry instead of credit), place the name of the item and price on a small carbon copy receipt book and total the amount. It also seemed to me that he had a few items that he kept stored in a back section of the store, or under the counter, that he either rationed, or saved for his better paying customers. The IGA and PIC-PAK Grocery stores came to Hindman during the late 1960‘s and he lost most of his customers. He was probably owed thousands of dollars when he passed away.

It is also bittersweet to me to hear Gary Perkins discuss how much money Bramlett Clark was probably owed at his death.  After my parents both died, my sister and I gathered up all the documentation of store debts owned to our parents which were also documented in those same carbon copy receipt books which Gary discussed and those books filled a bushel fruit basket.  I do not remember the amount my parents were owed but it was thousands of dollars.  Like many other owners of country stores, my parents and Bramlett Clark all had a soft spot for their neighbors and customers who suffered in poverty at times and often allowed people to charge for groceries when there was little likelihood they would ever be paid.  My own expression about that propensity is that my parents were always suckers for someone coming in broke with a few hungry children and asking for credit.  It was a fairly common trait among southern and Appalachian country store owners.  

Recently in December of 2020, I also received, in the comments section below, another wonderful reminiscence about my parents and our store from Georgetta Moore Cook the granddaughter of E. Hawk Moore, a close friend of my father, whom I wrote about in this blog post.  This is what Georgetta said about my parents and our store: 

 I remember the store very well we use to visit there when I was young when we would visit my dad's and grandparents graves and sometimes my mamaw just liked to get out and visit people and we would come there. You had wonderful parents I remember them well they would always give me and my siblings an ice cream or a bottle of pop which means a whole lot to a kid the kindness they showed us. My mom and mamaw would sit and talk while us kids would go outside and play. My mom was Ruth Moore,my mamaw was Cora Hall, my grandpa and grandma was Preacher Hawk and Samantha Moore we all lived at Steele's Creek. I met you a few years ago and didn't realize who you were it had been years since I had seen you.I am Earl Cook's wife Georgetta we came to your auctions when you were at Banner.

Wonderful comments like these about my parents and our store are a great deal of the reward in writing about these things.  I appreciate all three of them and the people who bothered to send them.  Collectively, they say a great deal about the kind of people my parents were and the methods they used in running a store and dealing with the public.  

This blog post just seems to keep getting comments from others who have fond memories of country stores.  I just saw a post on March 30, 2021, from John D. Shelton who is married to a distant relative of mine with a photo of a country store which was important to him in his childhood and was operated by John's great uncle Les Shelton  This is what John had to say about his memories of that store.  

"It was Les Shelton's Grocery on Hwy 829 near intersection of Hwy 558 in Cumberland City (all so known as) Cabin City, in Clinton County, Ky. In late 1800's it was largest City in Clinton County, now it is just a few Homes in a small Community. I was Born in small frame house about 1/4 miles to the left of this Store."

Nearly everyone who was able to regularly spend time in a country store as a child seems to have pleasant memories as a result of that experience.  Here is John's photo of his great uncle's store. The photo below of Les Shelton's store is not the best quality in the world and John says he is looking for a better one since the store is now totally gone. 

 



 


Mellie Hicks, My Mother, At The Property At Dema, KY,  Photo by Roger D. Hicks

 My father obviously made an effort to leave a positive impression.  He also, like nearly every other store owner, made an effort to allow customers to have their own way with regard to the promotional items which often accompanied sales of livestock feed, flour, meal, and a few other items.  Most mothers made some effort to gain enough flour, meal, or feed sacks of their favorite patterns to complete their next planned project.  Dishes were also often given as a promotion with flour, meal, and a few other items. And, of course, most brands of jelly came in decorated glass jars which became drinking glasses when empty.  Many flour and meal sacks were actually pillow cases.  A few other brands gave the dishes away, one piece at a time with their brand of flour or meal.  My parents also kept livestock after we moved to Knott County and my mother also used the brands that gave the promotional items.  I, too, wore feed sack shirts to school until I was in about the eighth grade.  I refused to do so after I entered high school and my mother stopped making the shirts for me.  However, most of the patterns on the bags were more feminine than masculine. But many males also wore shirts made from the bags.  Houses had curtains,  table clothes, dish towels, towels, wash cloths, dishes, and many other items which were either packaging just as it came from the store or packaging altered to meet a purpose in the home. I have even heard of one or two occasions where women actually fought over the last bag of feed in a particularly popular pattern. I have even written a short story about two women fighting over the last bag of flower in a pattern one of them was desperate to find.  That story is still unpublished at this point but I will be certain to let my readers know where it can be found after publication. Most of the dishes given to customers this way were plates and cups.  Jelly was also commonly sold in drinking glasses with patterns on the glass.  You ate the jelly, threw away the lid, and had another glass for the home. Silver Dust Washing Powder for many years had either a towel, wash cloth, or dish towel in each box of their detergent depending on the size of the box.  For many men, a favorite part of the old Porter Wagoner Show on television was Dolly Parton doing the Silver Dust Commercial.  She always held the promotional towels just under her most famous assets and that part of the show was one of the most risque things in television in those days.  And, to my knowledge, Dolly never had a "wardrobe malfunction".

The country store was generally an informal community center for the geographic area in a five or ten square mile circumference.  Paved roads were uncommon although both our stores were located on a paved road. Far fewer people had cars than today. Everyone had less ready cash for gasoline even though it was cheap from the end of WW I to about the onset of the Vietnam War.  Therefore, it was common for people to walk to the closest store even if was across a ridge or two.  In a case like that, it might be closer to go to a store by foot over a ridge which might be a considerably longer distance if the roads were used.  I remember one woman, in particular, who came to our store for a few years by walking up the holler from her house, along a ridge for a mile or so, and then down the hill through our cow pasture.  She always brought her own burlap bag for her  groceries.  She would fill it up with canned goods on the bottom and anything soft on the top.  She would tie a string around the opening, shoulder the bag, and walk up the hill through the pasture into the woods and out of sight.

 It was also common for people to ride a horse or mule to the store and carry groceries home in saddle bags or in burlap bags across the animal's back.  Corn sleds on wooden runners were also often a means of transportation, especially if the customer was buying several sacks of livestock feed, seed potatoes, fertilizer, or even a full months supply of groceries.  I also knew two boys who managed to break a bull calf to ride with a bridle, and they often rode him to the store until he became more bull than beast of burden.  It wasn't uncommon also to have a few people who were making moonshine to buy sugar, cracked corn, wheat middlings, malt syrup, and yeast in large quantities.  Most of them came in some kind of truck with the ability to cover their purchases in order to avoid advertising their profession.  Most country store owners knew exactly who was moonshining in their area.  But a few would travel to an adjoining creek or even county to avoid buying from people who knew them.  But the added gas for travel sometimes dictated against this practice.  One of the largest stills ever destroyed by federal authorities in Knott County was found about 3 miles from our store on Salisbury.  Long before the still was cut we knew who ran it and its location not to mention how much sugar, corn, middlings, yeast, and malt syrup  he was using a week.  The man who owned the still was sent to prison in Arizona and eventually murdered by a fellow parolee shortly after their release. That story was actually told in one of the old pulp true crime magazines.  I have read the story but don't remember the name of the pulp magazine in which it appeared. He never made it back to Knott County alive.  When he died, there was still a charge account book in his name on the shelf in our store. 

On one occasion, my father, who often traded in livestock, sold several shoats of about fifty to seventy five pounds each to the husband of the woman who walked the ridge to the store .  Neither my father or the buyer ever drove a car.  Part of the deal was that my father "and that boy will drive the pigs to your house on Saturday morning."  That Saturday morning, we got up at the crack of daylight, fed the shoats to slow them down and keep them for trying to stop and root all through the woods in a search for food stuffs. We began driving them up through the cow pasture, along the ridge, and down the holler to the buyer.  When we got there, the family was up, the pig pen was ready, and the mother was cooking breakfast on a big wood burning step stove in a log house.  Not many people today can say they have driven livestock through the woods.  On at least one other occasion, my father bought cattle from someone on Salisbury and we drove them down the dirt road out of the holler, down the railroad right of way, across the creek, and down the highway a short distance to our barn.  It was not uncommon for country store operators to deal in anything of value if they had the barns, pastures, buildings, or storage space it required and my father was a expert at trading anything he could make an honest dollar on.  

My father also often bought from or sold livestock to Chester Layne, the area Tom's Candy Distributor.  Chester also owned the stockyards at Ivel and bought or sold livestock all along his franchise area which covered Floyd, Knott, and Pike Counties.  A few years ago, his sons owned Layne Brothers Ford in the same spot where the stockyards were for many years.  But they went out of business several years ago.  Chester bought a cow from us once that he always claimed he used as a milk cow.  He also always said he had named her Happy after former Governor Happy Chandler.  I have my doubts about parts of the story since Chester was rather loquacious and primarily bought cattle for resale.  Generally, when my father wanted a new bull, he would arrange for Chester to find him a registered Hereford and bring it to him.  He was one of the first men on Right Beaver to regularly keep a registered bull.  He made a little money on the side by allowing neighbors to breed their milk cows to his bull for five or ten dollars each.  I also have several bull stories which will show up somewhere else later. 

But Chester Layne was a fine example of a traveling salesman.  I loved to see nearly all of the salesmen show up but Chester was one of my favorites.  He and my parents were friends and he always paid attention to me, even as a small child.  Nobody had air conditioning in houses or cars in those days and I am sure that driving a panel truck two hundred miles a day in Eastern Kentucky was dry and tiring work.  Chester would often pull up in front of our store porch, jump out of the truck, say hello, go straight out the other door in the store into the living quarters, use the bathroom, wash his hands, go to the refrigerator for a glass of cold buttermilk, rinse the glass, return to the store and then ask "Well, what do you need today?"  Once when I was about ten or twelve, he offered to pay me a dollar a book to read the Bible if I finished the whole King James Version.  I don't think I even got through Genesis before I quit.  I wonder sometimes if he wasn't actually betting all along that he wouldn't need to give up the money.  It was a Sisyphean task for a young boy.  But Chester was one of several men in those days who influenced me to want to travel and be a salesman.  Chester also had a brother, Kelly Layne, who worked with or for him and sometimes made the run.  Kelly was also a lot of fun but not as much as his brother.

Once when I was working at the Hope Center Homeless Shelter in Lexington, Kentucky, I had a client who told me had stolen one of Chester's Tom's Peanut Trucks from a small country store on Mud Creek in Floyd County. He said he and a couple of other guys were sitting on the store porch about half drunk when the driver pulled up, stopped, put the truck in neutral with the engine running, and ran into the store.  The truck was already pointed down the creek since the driver had come over the hill from the opposite creek.  My client said he was drinking, broke, and unemployed.  So as soon as the store door slammed, he jumped off the porch into the truck and took off to a chop shop in Magoffin County and sold the truck and inventory all to the chop shop operator.  Apparently, no one on the porch admitted to knowing who he was and the state police couldn't have gotten to the scene in less than thirty minutes in those days.  He was probably close to Magoffin County before the trooper ever took the report.  I wish I had heard the story while Chester was still alive so I could have compared it to his version.  I did come to know the chop shop operator later but he also died before I ever asked him about the story. 

Another of my favorite salesmen was Harold Purkey, Jr. who drove a Kern's Bread truck out of western Virginia into Knott and Floyd Counties.  During the summers, Harold would allow me to ride with him from our store down Beaver Creek to the end of his route in Punkin Center between Wayland and Garrett.  He would drop me off at home on his way back south to Virginia.  Harold liked to talk, had a long and cumbersome route, and I am sure he liked the company.  I also picked up a lot of my desire to be a salesman from riding with Harold. 

Bill Parish drove a Chappell's Milk route out of Hazard Kentucky for many years and was popular in the area.  Before my father quit drinking, which took place about the time I was born, Bill used to bring him a case or two of beer from Hazard every week as a favor.  I am sure it was illegal and against company policy. But to my  knowledge, Bill never suffered any consequences for it.  Hazard was wet and both Knott and Floyd Counties were dry which made Hazard beer a lot cheaper than buying from the bootleggers.  I suspect Bill probably did this favor for more than one of his regular customers. 

Talmadge Vanderpool drove a Betsy Ross Bread truck out of Prestonsburg into Knott County for several years also.  Talmadge was a fine individual but he just wasn't as sociable, talkative, or funny as most of the other salesmen. 

Another who also influenced me was Bernie Whitt who sold groceries for a company in Paintsville, Kentucky. Bernie was very quiet, low key, and efficient.  He wasn't nearly as much fun as Chester but he was a good salesman. There were actually two grocery companies in Paintsville which serviced Knott County.  I remember the man who sold for the other but can't remember his name.  He died sometime in the late 1950's or early 1960's in a house fire.  As I recall, he woke up to find his gas water heater had gone out and when he struck a match the room had apparently filled with natural gas and exploded.  He once brought me a little, brown, bob tailed puppy he had found at an illegal roadside dump when he stopped to relieve himself. He was hauling the dog along in his car looking for someone to give it to because he just couldn't leave it to die at the dump.  I called the dog Tarzan but can't ever remember the salesman's name.  

Another traveling salesman, I saw a lot of and liked a lot was Jack Childers who was self employed as a meat salesman out of Prestonsburg.  Very few country stores attempted to sell fresh meat and only sold frozen meat plus some bacon and cold cuts such as bologna.  Jack came up Beaver once a week in an old refrigerated utility truck much like a wholesale ice cream truck.  He was talkative, friendly, and full of information.  Jack lived not far from the site of the Floyd County School Bus Wreck and another of his customers was a couple who ran a country store and lost all their children in the wreck.  Jack brought us a great deal of information about the wreck, the search for the victims, and the lingering after effects on the survivors.  My parents seemed to have a closer link to that couple because of their shared profession and shared suppliers.  I was also the same age as many of the children on the bus.  We had other salesmen who supplied that couple and our store as well.  However, most of the others just didn't seem to invest themselves into a human relationship with those grieving parents the way Jack did. 

For me, the traveling salesmen represented a doorway to the outside world, travel, extended human contact, and people and places I had not seen.  They were an invaluable source of information for an inquisitive, talkative boy who longed to learn more about the world.  They were usually good talkers, friendly, interesting, and funny.  It was a hard job to be a traveling salesman.  But just like the men who influenced me to sell and many I sold with later, I enjoyed every day I ever spent driving or walking the hills of Eastern Kentucky and Southern West Virginia selling a variety of items. It also gave me the opportunity to get to know several dozen other country stores in both states. Living and working in a country store was a good life.  But it was bland compared to the life of the men who jumped in a car or truck five or six days a week, spent their time in different counties or states every day, and knew hundreds or thousands of people over a wide geographic area.  They always knew the most current gossip, who had died, who got married, who bought a registered bull or a fancy coon hound, who had a baby, who got arrested, who went broke, and any other news worth hearing.  

My very first memory is of my father holding me in his arms at the window of our store on Steele's Creek in the middle of the night watching a neighbor's house burn.  I admit that is an odd first memory.  But most of my earliest memories are set in one of the two stores we ran.  Late in the evening, especially in winter, men would gather in from all around the neighborhood and tell stories in front of the old natural gas stove.  No, our stores didn't have a pot bellied stove.  I knew a few that did but not ours.  We would sometimes split the shell on chestnuts and place them on the front of the old ceramic burner stove to roast.  But the best part was listening to my father and the other older men tell stories of the times when they were young, and Knott County had no paved roads.  They talked about hunting, fishing, farming, logging, coal mining, religion, politics, and unionism.  I learned a lot from some of those fellows too.  I learned that you always plant crops and castrate livestock by the signs. I learned that you never keep a chicken killing dog.  I learned that you never cross a picket line and nothing is lower than a scab.  I learned how Franklin Roosevelt, Winston Churchill, and Harry Truman saved the world.  I learned that a straddle pole is nearly as low as a scab.  For the uninitiated, a straddle pole is a person who crosses party lines to vote.  I learned how to be a Yellow Dog Democrat and I have never forgotten.  I learned what a Hoover Box and Hoover Times and a Hooverville were and I learned who caused all of them.  But Hoover Boxes kept a lot of poor people alive during the depression.  They are a homemade box trap, made from chicken wire or wood, baited and set out to catch possums, ground hogs, rabbits, and coons to prevent starvation.  For those of you who don't know the song, listen to Tom T. Hall's "Don't Forget The Coffee, Billy Joe".  It never mentions a Hoover Box.  But it says an awful lot about the times and attitudes I am talking about.

As I said early in this posting, there are very few real country stores today.  There are many who still claim to run country stores.  The old country stores sold you a bologna and cracker sandwich not a pizza or chicken wings.  The owners knew they were running a store and never tried to make it a restaurant.  They never crossed lines.  They generally never endorsed candidates in politics but allowed all candidates to leave their campaign materials on the counter and stapled to the outside walls beside every body else's.  They sold fifty pound buckets of lard, onion sets, seed potatoes, brogan shoes, Levis, horse shoes, and nails.  They let people charge a month at a time and most of the people paid.  They might from time to time let you sell a few food stamps or pay your bill with them.  It might have been illegal but it kept their neighbors afloat and that is much of what they were about.  Very few owners of country stores ever got rich.  But most died with hundreds of friends who remembered times their children would have starved without the store owner's generosity.  
Buttermilk Junction, Library of Congress Collection


There were several other country stores I was in on a fairly regular basis over the years.  Right above the store on Steele's Creek was a store  owned by Earl Manns.  Earl bought scrap metals which my parents and most other store owner's didn't do.  As teenagers, myself and my cousins Johnny and Jack Terry often sold a little  scrap metal to Earl when we could find it.  Right beside our store on Beaver Creek was another owned by Miles and Alta Hall.  For several years, Alta and two of her daughters also ran the Dema Post Office.  I am not directly related to Miles and Alta but one of their sons is my uncle by marriage, Edgar Hall.  One of my mother's brothers, Mabry Hicks, married Alta's sister Hazel Layne.  Another of my mother's sisters, Eva Hicks, had a son with Hazel and Alta's brother Milt Layne.  It is interesting that two families could have intermarried and intermingled so much and I am still not directly related to most of them.  Right up Beaver Creek about two miles, Silas Slone ran another small store for many years.  Silas and his wife had no children and their store died when they became too old to run it.  Silas had two unmarried sisters who also ran a store for many years on Caney Creek about four or five miles from ours. 

I can only think of four genuine, or nearly genuine country stores left in the entire nation today.  I have added the link to Hog Island Cottages And Country Store in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan not far from Mackinac Bridge.  They have a website, a liquor license, and rental cabins which all says they aren't a real country store.  But they sell smoked fish and a few years ago when I was there their coolers, shelves, and display cases were about the same models as the ones my parents were using in the 1950's.  It is well worth visiting if you are ever in the Upper Peninsula.  They also sold me the first pastie I ever ate.  A pastie is a fried meat, rutabaga, carrot, and potato pie which the Welsh iron ore miners used to carry into the mines in the area.  They are awesome, rib sticking food, and where else can you buy food which contains rutabagas.  Near Cannel City, Kentucky, on Highway 191 at the Junction of Highway 1000, is the Caney Valley Grocery run by Roger Finch.  It also sells pizza and chicken wings and has a tanning bed which says it isn't a real country store.  But it is located in an old two story store building that is nearly a hundred years old with some display cases and shelves close to that era.  Roger is also in the antique business and the store is filled with hundreds of items, in addition to the groceries, which go all the way back to the days of the  genuine, early country stores. Plus, Roger Finch, his family, and their employees are all so friendly that they compensate for the drawbacks.  It is well worth visiting.  The third store I want to mention, I don't even know for sure if it's still operating.  But the last time I drove from Whitesburg to Harlan over Cumberland Mountain there was a store in operation there which had been in a family for three generations, had all the original shelves and display cases, didn't sell pizza or chicken wings, and smelled and felt and looked like it was about 1955.  If it's still there let me know and go buy something to help keep it open.
The fourth country store I know of which has unfortunately burned to the ground was the Family Market #2 on US23 between Ulysses and Louisa in Lawrence County Kentucky.  It was owned by Bob and Dianne Castle who also own a couple of others in Lawrence, Martin, and Johnson Counties.  They ran a deli in the store on US23 which made the best bologna sandwich in Kentucky.  As of 2013, you could buy a loaded bologna and cheese sandwich there for about $2.00 which was a phenomenal price for a couple of slices of bologna, bread, cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion, and mayonnaise.  I stopped there nearly every time I visited my cousin in Lawrence County and recently an auctioneer friend of mine from Huntington told me he also stopped there for a bologna sandwich when he was on the road in Eastern Kentucky.  The Castles also sold a few antiques and a lot of the older, more rural, and less common items that aren't found at Seven Eleven.  It was always well worth a stop if you found yourself on US23 in Lawrence County Kentucky.  Now go out and find your own favorite country store and send me a message about it. 
An Abandoned Country Store At Blaine, Kentucky, Photo by Roger D. Hicks
 Editorial Note: I originally wrote and posted this blog post on May 29, 2011, in the early days of this blog.  It was always one of my most popular blog posts.  But, recently, I discovered that a business on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan or their blog posting service had hijacked the link to this post.  I had actually been in that business a few years ago and had nothing but good things to say about it.  That is no longer true and they shall remain nameless here.  I sent that business an e-mail asking them to cease and desist from hijacking that link and my related page views.  They never did a thing about it.  I do not keep an attorney on retainer so I chose to not pay one several hundred dollars to write a cease and desist letter to these Yankee Usurpers.  So I have found myself copying and pasting this post with a new title and a few edits to cover changes in information in the past 8 + years.  I hope you still enjoy the post.