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Showing posts with label memoir. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memoir. Show all posts

Friday, October 25, 2024

"The Diving Bell And The Butterfly" by Jean-Dominique Bauby

 

My wife Candice and I just finished reading this fine little book by Jean-Dominique Bauby in the manner in which we have been reading books regularly for several years now.  While Candice washes our breakfast dishes, I read aloud from whatever book we are reading at the time.  When she finishes washing the dishes, I stop reading and rinse them.  I put them away later.  We alternate who chooses the next book we read, and this one was her choice.  Our previous book which I chose was "Band Of Angels", a novel by Robert Penn Warren which I wrote about at this link.  For us, this book is personal.  Bauby was the editor of "Elle", the French fashion magazine, when he suddenly, and apparently without any warning, suffered a severe stroke in his early forties which left him with "Locked In Syndrome".  Locked In Syndrome is a condition due to a stroke or other form of brain damage which leaves the patient completely paralyzed, unable to move or speak, and without any realistic hope of recovery.  Usually, the patients mind is working perfectly well inside a completely dysfunctional body.  Sometimes, as in Bauby's case, the patient is able to blink one or both eyes which is utilized to facilitate a form of communication.  Bauby, his friends, family, and providers were trained to use an alphabet system with the letters of the alphabet arranged in order according to their frequency of use in French, his native language.  The person communicating with such a patient is required to read the letters one at a time, wait until the patient blinks in response to a letter, write that letter down, and repeat the process until a word is spelled.  Then a sentence, and thus a conversation.  Bauby and a young female employee of his publisher utilized the system for him to write this book which is, understandably, only 132 short pages of about 175 words each for a total of approximately 23,000 words. Admittedly, that is a small word total for most adult non-fiction books.  But for a book which was produced using the method described above, it is a phenomenal piece of work for both Bauby and his publisher's employee.  


 

For my wife and I, the book is a personal matter for two reasons: 1) my wife has been in a wheelchair for about 26 years, and in a power chair for about 5 years due to a rare genetic disorder; 2) when I was an undergraduate at Morehead State University, I had a professor whose husband, a retired psychiatrist, suffered a massive stroke which left him with "Locked In Syndrome".  On one occasion, my former professor told me the story of her husband's stroke and eventual death.  They utilized some such system of eye blinking to discuss his condition, absolutely devastating prognosis, and their possible options in the matter.  Admittedly, they were a couple who were unusually prepared by their professional lives to deal with such an issue in their private lives.  Her husband was a retired medical doctor and psychiatrist who had run a large state operated mental health treatment system.  His wife was a doctoral level professor of social work who had also worked in mental health setting in the past.  But, as she told me the story, it was obvious that she was still totally devastated by the decision they had reached in his case.  They had discussed their problem and their options, as I described above, and her husband chose to be disconnected from life support and to die rather than to linger for whatever time the health care system could have kept him alive.  Admittedly, my wife and I have a very unique perspective from which to assess Bauby's incredible little book.  


 

The book is written in very short chapters, very little pages, and is an incredible read both for its brevity and its breadth in how much information it contains.  Bauby says little until almost the end of the book about the actual event of his stroke.  It moves from short segments about his life in a state government operated system for very difficult neurological cases in France to segments about his life before his stroke to other segments about how he spends his time when he is alone in his hospital bed.  He discusses his creation of fantasies about what had previously been his goals and dreams, his life with his young children and wife, and his professional life as the editor of a major French fashion magazine.  This is a book which a good reader can finish in a single sitting.  But it is also a book which can require some time between sittings for the reader to absorb and process the information it contains.  This is an incredible book and well worth reading by every reader  



Wednesday, May 20, 2020

"Tales from Sacred Wind Coming of Age in Appalachia" by Cratis D. Williams--Book Review

Williams, Cratis D., and David Cratis Willams and Patricia D. Beaver, Editors. Tales From Sacred Wind Coming of Age in Appalachia (Jefferson, NC, McFarland & Co. 2003)

For my regular readers over the past month or so, it is no secret that I love this book.  Some of the most popular and easiest written blog posts I have ever done have been about particular segments of issues which Cratis D. Williams discusses in the book.  I have written about Death, Dying, and Burial Practices In Appalachia; Croton Oil And Cratis Williams; Traditional Appalachian Children's Games; and One More Short Lesson From Cratis Williams.  I had also written a much earlier post about some reading of his work which I had one under the title Responses To Some Reading Of Cratis Williams.  All of these posts were very easy to write and well received by my readers.  Cratis Williams was the Dean of the Appalachian State University Graduate School and taught there for several decades in addition to being one of the most influential scholars in all of the field of Appalachian Studies.  I have said repeatedly that I never met Dr. Williams and I regret that a great deal.  He was erudite, well read, incredibly funny, and one of the best experts on the culture of Appalachia, especially in the early twentieth century.  

This book was edited by his son, Dr. David Cratis Williams and Dr. Patricia D. Beaver who had been one of his professional colleagues at Appalachian State University.
Cratis D. Williams--Photo by the Williams Family
It was published eighteen years after his death.  It is basically a memoir of the first twenty or so years of his life.  It is assumed that he intended to complete a comprehensive memoir of his entire life and simply did not have the time during his academic career to complete and subsequently did not live long to complete the work after his retirement. That is a tragedy since this book is one of the finest books ever written about Appalachian Culture in the early twentieth century, especially the culture of the Big Sandy River Valley and Eastern Kentucky.  This book was published as the eighth produced in the Contributions To Southern Appalachian Studies Series from McFarland & Company in Jefferson, North Carolina.  The series is now comprised of roughly forty books and still being expanded regularly by the publisher.  They cover numerous areas of interest in the greater field of Appalachian Studies.  Although I have not read anywhere near the entire series, I am sure the majority of them are well worth reading.
Now, to get back to "Tales From Sacred Wind...", I am sure that most people tend to think that the name Sacred Wind for the post office in the community on Caines Creek in Lawrence County must have been rooted in religion.  According to Williams, it was not remotely rooted in religion.  He relates the story of how the first postmaster had been tasked with naming the post office and wanted to find a particularly meaningful name.  He had struggled with that effort and was sitting on his porch one day with a friend talking about the effort when the friend passed gas loudly and demonstratively and said, "Name it after that." which is exactly how the postmaster arrived at the name of Sacred Wind.  
The book covers numerous areas of Appalachian Culture including those I have written about and numerous others such as feuds, family strife up to and including patricide and pedicide, the United Baptist Church, one room schools, education in general, farming, child birth, midwifery, and many others.  The book is well written but, if there is one area in which to critique it, the quality of the writing is variable, at times well above average and, at other times, the quality drops a bit.  The book was apparently written over several years in small to medium segments or sections each on a particular topic.  After his death, Cratis Williams' son and Dr. Beavers edited the manuscript and McFarland published it.  I am sure that it does not have the same level of consistency and quality that it would have if Cratis Williams had lived to fully complete the work to cover his entire life.  But the work is well worth reading and I certain that many of my regular readers on this blog will attest to that fact also.  It is well worth the money, time, and effort to buy and read it.   


Friday, September 20, 2019

New Book, "True Christmas Stories From The Heart Of Appalachia", From The Jesse Stuart Foundation

The Jesse Stuart Foundation has just released a new book entitled "True Christmas Stories From the Heart of Appalachia".  The book has 43 Christmas stories from 39 authors. It has stories from my friends, Edwina Pendarvis and Emily Steiner, as well as the well known authors Jesse Stuart, Thomas D. Clark, Cratis Williams, Bill Best, and Billy C. Clark. Including my story, "Christmas On Beaver Creek", there are three stories which are set in Knott County.  Two of those stories are set at Pippa Passes and the Caney Creek Community Center. This book is a wonderful addition to your collections of Christmas books or Appalachian books. It is also a wonderful Christmas gift for those who love to remember and work to preserve the Appalachia of their childhood.  It is well worth reading and will take nearly every reader back to some wonderful memory from your growing up years. I have a limited number of copies available with my autograph at the price of $25.00 plus $3.00 shipping (28.00 total) which is the price set by the publisher. The book will cost you the same amount of money without any autographs from the Jesse Stuart Foundation.   I will accept PayPal at rchicks@mrtc.com. I will also accept orders with a check or US Postal Money Order at:

Roger D. Hicks
65 Highway 1081
West Liberty, KY 41472
Send me an e-mail there with your name, address, and the name of the person to which you want each copy dedicated.
Here is an excerpt from my story: "Late in the evenings when the fire was warm and business slow, the older men would stop by the store to tell stories about old Christmas with the cattle kneeling in the fields...and how some old preacher talked about three men who rode on camels across a big desert following a star to take some fancy presents to a baby who was just like us, too poor to be born in a hospital." 

Sunday, September 23, 2018

"Raft Tide and Railroad How We Lived and Died" by Edwina Pendarvis--Book Review

Pendarvis, Edwina. Raft Tide And Railroad How We Lived and Died. (Frankfort, KY, Blair Mountain Press 2008)
"Raft Tide and Railroad How We Lived and Died" by Edwina Pendarvis is labeled as memoir although I would tend to call it more of a historiomemoir if creating such a word does not bend the English language too far.  Eddie Pendarvis, as she prefers to be called, and I have been friends for a couple of years and the better I come to know her the better I like her and her work.  She is a retired professor emeritus of the Education Department of Marshall University, an Appalachian author and poet of some note, and the author of numerous books in several fields.  She grew up in several locations in Appalachia including the Left Beaver section of Floyd County Kentucky and Kopperston West Virginia. Several members of her extended family worked in company stores and the coal mines.  

This book covers the history of her family as it immigrated into Pike County Kentucky and then spread out over Appalachia, West Virginia, Eastern Kentucky, and Central Kentucky.  The first several chapters are highly fictionalized which, while it may have been necessary due to poor or no documentation two hundred and more years ago, is a quality I do not like.  There is also some fictionalization in a few of the later chapters but it is of a much more creative and deliberate nature and much more acceptable in the work.  Ms. Pendarvis does an excellent job of researching and documenting the available records, both verbal and written, about her ancestors.  The book will be especially popular with individuals who have spent at least part of their lives in the coalfields of Eastern Kentucky and Southern West Virginia.  It is filled with wonderful stories and vignettes about the family, its many unique members, and the complex lives they lived.  Ms. Pendarvis, as a babe in arms, was present at the murder of her maternal grandmother on the porch of the family home in Pike County.  As a result, her maternal uncle Donald Johnson spent most of his remaining youth in Ms. Pendarvis' home under the care of her mother who was his older, married sister.  He grew up to become rich in the Pike County coal industry and eventually made and lost two fortunes.  He was also the breeder and seller of a Thoroughbred colt who set a world record auction price of $10.2 million dollars at the Keeneland Summer Select Yearling Sale in July of 1983.  In a mildly strange coincidence, I was present in the arena at Keeneland the night that colt sold since I had spent nearly twenty years working in the Thoroughbred industry of Central Kentucky.  

This book is full of wonderful moments which remind the native Appalachian reader of home, the old home place, mother's chicken and dumplings, and of the winter evenings when there was enough fire wood but maybe not enough pinto beans.  It takes us back to our youthful aspirations and memories of little failures we thought we had forgotten.  It is well worth the price of admission.  If you are a native Appalachian, buy it, read it, use it to remember the good times, the bad times, and those hopeful times when you knew in your heart that there were better times a coming. 

Thursday, December 12, 2013

PATENT MEDICINES AND OTHER THINGS WE SOLD IN COUNTRY STORES

MORE MEMORIES FROM A COUNTRY STORE
 
 
A recent encounter in which I came in contact with a fairly good collection of vintage to antique patent medicines brought back a lot of memories of the items we regularly sold in country stores.  I came to be in possession of a fairly sizable collection of these patent medicines recently and sold them to a neighbor and friend who still runs a fairly authentic country store and antique shop.  But as I went through the collection, I was reminded of dozens of similar items my parents and other country store operators used to sell which I never see anymore.  I have discussed some of these items in one of my earlier posts, The Country Store And Travelling Salesmen.  While I had these recently found items in my hands, I took photos of most of them and will just post the photos and write a few of my own personal reminiscences of them. I apologize for the quality of some of the shots.  Many of the items are small and I cropped the photos a bit too small since I use a fairly cheap digital camera. 
 
Phillips Milk Of Magnesia Tablets Store Display (Roger D. Hicks)





One of the nicest items in this group I found was a vintage Phillip's Milk of Magnesia Tablets store display box of about 12 boxes of tablets.  These and several other types of "stomach medicines" were sold regularly in country stores in my childhood.  It was fairly common for country people to avoid going to doctors both because of poverty and distrust of medicine in general which translated into  faith in both folk medicines and readily available patent medicines which could be bought from  the country store operator who was a neighbor and friend who was generally better known and more trusted than the doctor at the county seat.  But I do not want to leave a blanket negative impression of the country doctors of my childhood.  Two in particular, Dr. Mark Dempsey and Dr. Melvin Wicker from Floyd County both deserve posts on this blog at some time in the future. I recently did complete my post about Dr. Mark Dempsey and was able to learn a great deal about him and his political beliefs while researching it which pleased me greatly.  I deeply regret that I did not know him much better when I was young and he was still alive.  I hope my readers also enjoy that post about him. 
 
 
Tube Rose Scotch Snuff (Roger D. Hicks)
 
 
 
Another item which I found in this same collection was an unopened can of Tube Rose Scotch Snuff, which may well have been a contributing factor for some of the usage of "Stomach Medicines" by people all over Appalachia and the south.  I do not recall that my parents ever sold snuff or that there were ever many people who asked for it in Knott County during my childhood.  Most of our neighbors, my father, and even myself, for a short while, were chewers of tobacco.  This tobacco usage was split between pouch, plug, and twist with Red Horse, Red Man, Beech Nut, Kentucky Twist, Brown's Mule and a few other brands carrying most of  the business.  Since tobacco was not commonly grown in Knott County, there were very few chewers of homegrown.  But I have known of a few people who got a few seeds and raised a small patch or often just a row or two for private use.  But getting back to this can of Tube Rose Snuff, it was a fine example of a vintage country store piece and was unopened with the Internal Revenue Stamp still attached and unbroken.  It was manufactured in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, and also carried a union labor stamp which is rarely seen on any item today.  That regrettable loss of union shops began about 1981 with the ascendancy of Ronald Reagan and a strong anti-union element in  American politics.  Today's fight by fast food workers for an increase in the minimum wage is directly rooted in the changes of attitudes which were promoted by the Reagan Administration beginning with the firing of the air traffic controllers shortly after he became President. 
 
 
Ramon's Pink Pills (Roger D. Hicks)
 
 
Another of the items in this collection which brought back instant memories of itself and a dozen other patent medicines was Ramon's Pink Pills, "an adult laxative for sluggish bowels due to temporary constipation".  This is a classic example of "stomach medicine" and Ramon's Pink Pills were sold by the millions across Appalachia and the rural south along with Carter's Little Liver Pills, Fletcher's Castoria, Geritol,  Black Draught, SSS Tonic, Lightning Hot Drops, and a wide variety of purgatives, antacids, and putative cure all's.  My parents must have sold thousands of boxes, bottles, and cans of these medicines.  And I have to say that finding the Ramon's Pink Pills and the Milk of Magnesia in the collection were a lot like meeting old friends after too long a time apart. 
 
 
 
 
Old Hickory Throat Troches (Roger D. Hicks)
 
 
 
 
Another item in this collection which I found fascinating but did not recognize from my childhood was a tube of Old Hickory Throat Troches which were made by the Old Hickory Medicine Company in Andalusia, Alabama.  I even tried calling a number I located on the Internet to learn more about them and found it disconnected.  I have to assume that the company, like most of the patent medicines, is no longer in existence.  I believe these were sold as a treatment for minor sore throats and must have been similar to cough drops.  If any of you remember them, please send me a personal E-Mail or comment on this post.  I would love to know exactly what they are.  I am sorry to say that I have never been to Andalusia even though I have travelled extensively in Alabama. And I also recently sold a vintage 1953 Hank Williams Song Book to someone in Andalusia.   
 
 
Colgate Tooth Powder (Roger D. Hicks)
 
 
 
Another item I found and did not remember ever seeing in our store was a small metal can of Colgate Tooth Powder which I assume was a precursor of tube toothpaste.  And to be honest, I do not recall that we sold a great deal of tooth paste in our store.  As I think about it, I believe this might have been due to one or more of several reasons: 1) due to poverty, many people might have been using other methods such as baking soda; 2) a lot of our neighbors never seemed to brush their teeth regularly which is also often connected to poverty; 3) folkways of cleaning teeth such as brushing with fragrant twigs might have also been practiced.  Whatever, the reasons, Colgate Tooth Powder or any other brand was not common in our store in my childhood. 
 
 
Zenith Brand Tibet Almond Stick (Roger D. Hicks)
 
 
 
Another unknown, at least to me, item which showed up in the collection was a metal can containing a Zenith Brand Tibet Almond Stick which was used to either repair or disguise scratches in furniture.  I do not recall any similar items to this being common in the area when I was growing up.  Many of our neighbors had either homemade furniture or cheap store bought furniture and never seemed to pay a whole lot of attention to minor dings.  It probably had nothing to do with a particular disregard for caring for property but was rather more about a different set of priorities which did not place scratches on furniture at the top of a to do list for the average parent with a garden, a house, livestock, and several children to care for. 
 
 
Windsor Rubbed Sage (Roger D. Hicks)
 
 
Another old friend which showed up in the collection, much like a long awaited letter from home, was a can of vintage Windsor Rubbed Sage.  I have written in this blog before about my love for sage as a spice in both sausage and turkey dressing. In the post Thanksgiving In Appalachia, I disclosed my love of sage. And in the recent post Hog Killing Time In Appalachia, a reader and I engaged in an interesting exchange in the comments section which discussed the love of sage.  I always associate the smell of sage dressing and, to a lesser degree, sage sausage with the wonderful memory of coming in out of the Thanksgiving or Christmas cold to the smell of hot sage dressing, steamy windows, and a plethora of other traditional Appalachian seasonal dishes on the table.  Many people in the area during my childhood grew their own spices including sage.  My own family only grew our own hot peppers, dill, and one or two others.  When my wife and I moved into our current home 21 years ago, we found that the deceased owner had kept a greenhouse for years and also had planted garlic, dill, mints, and numerous other spices around the property.  Sadly, I have not kept them all alive and now I have to buy them all.  I do not specifically remember Windsor Rubbed Sage from my childhood.  The brands of spices we were most likely to sell were McCormick's and Sauer's which were then and still are high quality spices.  But still, seeing this box of sage brought home a hundred wonderful food and country store based memories. 

 
 
Dr. LeGear's Flatulent Colic Medicine (Roger D. Hicks)
 
Another of the non-food items from this collection was Dr. LeGear's Flatulent Colic Medicine, a patent medicine for use in horses, mules, and cattle.  I spent a childhood in a country store, worked about 15 years in the Central Kentucky Thoroughbred business, and spent more than 3 years working on the Vision Quest Wagon Trains and I had never seen this medicine before.  But veterinary medicine in Appalachia during my childhood was nearly non-existent and many counties at that time did not have a single veterinarian.  Just as they did with their children, most Appalachians until the late 1960's treated health problems in their livestock themselves with remedies based primarily in folkways. 
 
This was a wonderful walk down Memory Lane for me as I found, inspected, remembered, and wrote about these items from my childhood.  I hope it is a source of warm Appalachian memories for my readers as well.  I will expand this post a couple of times in the near future.  But, for now, I want everyone of my readers to enjoy it as much as have I.  Therefore, I am posting it while it is still in progress.  
 
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Update February 25, 2022
 
This item is not a patent medicine but when I found this photograph of one of  favorite childhood memories both from my time at Salisbury Elementary School and simply from growing up in a country store.  This is a Blue Horse Writing Tablet which I used every day in both grade school and high school and which we also sold regularly in our store both to my fellow students and to their parents who used these Blue Horse Writing Tablets for everything from writing letters to distant relatives to saving recipes to keeping important addresses and records to sending business letters to Sears Roebuck and Montgomery Wards to writing obituaries for our newly dead relatives.  Nearly everyone I knew in my childhood used these tablets for something on a regular basis.  
 

 
 












Sunday, May 15, 2011

Salisbury Elementary--My Favorite Places In Appalachia

Salisbury Elementary--My Favorite Places In Appalachia

I was lucky enough to attend Salisbury Elementary School at Dema, Kentucky.  Salisbury was a traditional two room school in the Knott County Kentucky school system.  I spent my entire seven year elementary school career there.  I was double promoted from first grade to third grade resulting in the seven years of education rather than the usual eight years.  Double promotion was relatively common in that time for students who performed significantly above their peers.  I was not the only student double promoted in that school during those years from 1957 to 1964.  Based on my marked lack of success in college a few years later, I am not in favor of double promotion.  It was my experience, and I believe also the experience of other such students, that the resultant college admission at age sixteen came at a time when social maturity was significantly behind the level needed to succeed in a college setting.  However, I have to say that my overall experience at Salisbury was positive and I have many fond memories of the place and people I knew there. 

 I was born in Knott County at the old Lackey Hospital although my parents lived at the time, July 1951, on Steele's Creek in Floyd County.  Wayland, KY,  sits at the mouth of Steele's Creek.  My parents ran a small country store about a mile up Steele's Creek for several years.  They also owned a piece of land on Right Beaver Creek in Knott County at Dema about a mile below the mouth of Salisbury Branch where the school was located.  In early 1957, they built a new store on that piece of land and we moved there shortly before school began in the fall of 1957.  This prevented me from having begun my education in one county and completing it in another.  I entered grade school that year without even knowing the alphabet.  I learned quickly, appreciated education in general, and had a teacher, Rita Mae Moore, who was competent in early education.  She was my teacher for three years from first grade to fourth grade.  My teacher for the remaining four years of elementary school was Emily Martin.  She was also well skilled in teaching and lived at the time in the home of her parents between my home and the school.  I actually walked past her home on the way to and from school each day. 

Students walked to and from school in those days, rain or shine.  There were very few days off school because of inclement weather due to the fact that most students actually lived within walking distance of their schools.  However, all that changed before I was out of elementary school when the Floyd County School Bus Wreck killed more than 25 students and a bus driver during a flood.  Even today, most school systems in Eastern Kentucky take a very conservative approach to scheduling school during bad weather.  I had about a half mile to walk along Kentucky Route 7 and then crossed Beaver Creek on a swinging bridge, walked about a half mile up the C & O Railroad tracks, then a short distance up Salisbury Branch to the school.  The building was a two room sandstone structure which sat slightly up the side of the hill in the edge of a large bottom.  There were no houses close to the school.  We had a coal and wood burning pot bellied stove in each room, two outdoor toilets on the upper side of the building, one for boys and one for girls.  The hand pump and well were located on the lower, down stream side of the building.  Amazingly, no one ever contracted a serious disease because the toilets were about 50 to 75 feet uphill and upstream from the well. An older boy, usually an eighth grader, was paid ten cents a day in winter to come in early, build the fires, collect kindling, and pump drinking water.  The drinking water in each room sat on a wooden table in a galvanized bucket with a galvanized dipper.  The only real nod to health and hygiene was the requirement that each student bring a drinking cup or glass at the beginning of the school year and drink only from your own glass or cup. 



Swinging Bridge Like The One On My Way To School This one was in Old Mill Park, West Liberty, KY, and was lost in the March 2, 2012, tornado.

Naturally there was no lunch room and there were no prepared lunches.  Each student usually brought a lunch from home.  But  a few were able to run home quickly during lunch, eat, and return to school for the afternoon.  There was a play ground of sorts which was bare earth except for an occasional few blades of grass.  The ground was usually littered with small pebbles which caused frequent falls during running games.  I still have a small scar over one eye due to a fall during a rapid run around the corner of the building which ended with me landing on my head.  However, injuries were uncommon and I do not recall that anyone was ever seriously injured at school. We frequently played marbles, hop scotch, and baseball with a rubber ball and no gloves.  There was also a basketball goal and sometimes we had a ball.  Sometimes we didn't.  During recess and the lunch hour, boys in the "Big Room" from fifth to eighth grade could go anywhere we wanted so long as we were back in school on time.  The girls were restricted to a small area around the school.  This blatantly sexist method was used to prevent any inappropriate actions between the sexes.  During the lunch hour, it was common for the boys to hit the hills hiking, running, playing tag, and looking for evidence of moonshine stills.  During the school year, most moonshiners wouldn't set up within a mile of the school.  But we could still sometimes find evidence of stills which had been established in spring and dismantled before school began.  We also played a game called "Riding Out" young poplars.  We climbed the young, slim, flexible trees to heights around 20 to 30 feet until they began to lean from the weight.  We rode them to the ground or until they intersected with another tree so we could move from tree to tree.  Sometimes on a downhill ride, we might be able to go several hundred feet before we ran out of flexible timber.  On only one occasion was anyone ever hurt doing this when a young tree broke near the top and allowed the rider to fall nearly twenty feet.  We carried him back to school where he regained his breath and limped on home somewhat sore.  We also would sometimes find honey bee swarms or yellow jacket nests and take chances harassing them.  Once, a student got too close while throwing rocks at a yellow jacket nest and was swarmed by the angry bees.  He ran, rolled, and bounced several hundred yards down the hill out of  the woods and into a hole of water in the creek which was deep enough to allow him to roll under the water until the yellow jackets gave up and left.  On another occasion, we caught a black snake about 5 feet long and held its mouth open and poured it full of water in order to see what would happen when we agitated it into striking.  The snake became a water hose for a brief time.  Today, I don't believe that most of us would participate in this kind of cruelty to animals. 

Another time, several of the older boys found a pair of dogs in the act of reproduction.  Due to the anatomical idiosyncracys of dogs, they could not get away.  The boys grabbed the connected dogs and carried them to the top of the stone steps which led into the front of the school.  Naturally, both teachers were quite upset.  But I don't recall any particular punishment other than the same boys being required to remove the dogs from sight of the school and the smaller students. However, I will note for the record that, since most of our parents owned livestock, very few of us were ignorant about animal reproduction. 

 On another occasion, during a trip to the woods in early spring, we found a copper head which had come out during a warm snap and been overcome by the cold a few hours later.  We carried the stiff snake into the school on a coal shovel and laid it near the warm stove.  When it became warm enough to move, we would scoop it up and carry it back out into the cold to become stiff and slow again.  This might not be a safe way to learn herpetology, and it would never be allowed in a school today; but it worked for us and no one except the copperhead came out the worse for wear.  Another cold weather game was to entice a young student to place their mouth on the cold pump handle until it froze to the metal.  I have since seen a version of this trick in a movie and laughed to remember my childhood. 

We also had an annual event to rescue lost pencils which had fallen through the cracks in the floor to the enclosed dirt underneath.  A section of floor could be removed and two or three older boys would crawl under the floor gathering up pencils.  When they were done, the floor was replaced and the pencils divided between the students.  By todays standards, many of our daily activities would be considered wanton endangerment and no school system would allow it.  But we never had serious injuries, learned many practical applications of our play, and grew up to be more resilient than most students in modern schools which have been sanitized, made nearly risk free, and lost much of the genuine fun we experienced.  We also had a regular Friday afternoon event of alternating spelling contests and adding contests.  We learned to do math in our heads far faster than most students can do it today on calculators.  We got our exercise running and walking to and from school.  People in the neighborhood watched us come and go to make sure we were safe.  We learned a great deal.  Nearly all of us grew up healthy, hard working, and intelligent.  For all its shortcomings, the education we received was better in many ways than todays methods. 

Another activity which I fondly remember, but would not want to see take place in schools today was the monthly visit of "The Bible Women".  Two female missionaries connected to Camp Nathaniel, which still exists today, lived on Right Beaver just below the mouth of Sly Branch in a house they rented from a local couple.  They made a circuit of the schools in the county visiting one or two each day.  They were known as Miss Eva and Miss Heibert.  Miss Heibert's first name was Alma.  Miss Eva had a Scandinavian last name which I forgot long ago and none of us could pronounce correctly.  So she was known by her first name only.  Miss Heibert played accordion and led us in gospel songs. Miss Eva always used a felt board and cut outs to tell a Bible story.  They also gave away gifts to students who remembered and repeated Bible verses with larger gifts for ever growing collections of Bible verses committed to memory. No matter how bad the weather or road conditions, they always appeared on time for their visits.  If necessary, they would each carry their equipment, including the cumbersome accordion, from the paved road about a half mile to and from the school.  They also had a small lending library of religious childrens books in their home and during the summer students who lived within walking distance could go there to borrow books.  I have fond memories of these two dedicated women and their work.  However, I learned long ago that the US Constitution is also sacred and separation of church and state is, and should always be, inviolable.  There is no place for religion in the public schools. 

Another of my frequently remembered days at school there involved chewing tobacco.  Nearly all of the male students usually smoked or chewed, and sometimes both by the fourth or fifth grade.  I was no exception.  One day, at lunch time, another boy and I hit the woods.  I had a lunch of two fried egg sandwiches followed by a chew of tobacco.  Then we began hiking up the narrow, rocky hollow behind the school.  It must have been spring because there was water in the branch and moss and slime on the rocks.  Just as I was about to spit, I slipped on a slick rock, went head over hills on my back, and swallowed the entire chew of tobacco.  I actually thought I was going to be able to overcome it for a while.  We returned to school on time and as class began I realized I was becoming sicker as time progressed.  I finally had to excuse myself to the toilet.  I will never forget the sight of that chew of tobacco and two fried egg sandwiches through the toilet hole.  I never chewed again for at least four or five years. 

For a few years, some special program sent a music teacher to each of the rural schools in the county once a month.  This person primarily taught us folk songs from a little green and white song book.  I remember learning "Barbara Allen", "Froggie Went A Courting", and "The Cabbage Head Song". There was also another song whose title I have forgotten about a young man getting married to a woman who was "twice six, twice seven, twice twenty and eleven...but she is a young thing and cannot leave her mother."   Any of these special programs, whether it was music or "The Bible Women", gave us half a day outside our ordinary routine and we loved it. 

The list of things Salisbury Elementary did not have includes running water, electric heat, a lunch program, a school nurse, indoor bathrooms, or lengthy lists of rules intended to protect students from themselves.  The list of things Salisbury Elementary had included a sense of community, teachers and parents who actually knew each other, corporal punishment and parents who didn't question its administration, freedom to learn experientially, and an idyllic setting.  I believe the things it had far overcomes the things it did not have.  And in that time period most rural schools in America were very similar with the very same strengths and weaknesses.

Friday, April 15, 2011

A Brief Introduction To My Appalachian Life

For years, I have avoided starting a blog about life in Appalachia in general and my life in Appalachia in particular.  But I have finally come to the conclusion that I have experience which can be valuable and useful to other Appalachians and the general public.  I have lived and worked most of my life in the Southern Appalachian region.  I have been taught and mentored by many of the best known writers and thinkers in Appalachia.  I have published a limited number of works about Appalachia and Appalachian life.  I have a clearly thought out philosophy about Appalachia, Appalachian Life, Appalachian Literature, Counseling and Social Work in Appalachia, and the myriad of problems which Appalachians face both within the region and in the many areas to which they have traveled to work since the Great Migration began shortly after World War II ended. 

This blog will hopefully provide useful and educational information, teach non-Appalachians about the region in ways which can help to decrease ignorance, debunk myths, and improve two way communication between native Appalachians and the rest of the world.  This blog is also likely to be a work in progress which may change in ways both subtle and major.  I will add works in the areas of both fiction and non-fiction and hope to be able to address many of the strengths manifested by Appalachians as well as the social problems which trouble us today.  I do not presume to set forth a predictable schedule by which posts will be added.  I do hope to regularly make contributions to the blog.  I strongly encourage input from others who read the work.  I would like to hear stories from readers about their own experiences in Appalachia.  I hope to address topics as diverse as Discrimination Against Appalachians; Appalachian History; Counseling and Social Work In Appalachia; Appalachian Literature and Folk Art; Extractive Industry In Appalachia; and, The Future of Appalachia.  I look forward to what can happen here.  I hope you do too.