Reflections On Reading "Appalachian Anthology: Histories, Historiographies, and Oral Histories of Appalachia" by Diane Alexander

Frequently, I buy books about Appalachia, with Appalachian titles, or some which allegedly cover Appalachian subjects, and sometimes I buy some I have to ask myself later, whey did I do that without digging deeper. This book was described on Amazon as "A collection of Appalachian journal articles, research papers, historiographies, and oral histories prominently featuring Appalachian culture, dialect, and stereotyping. Vignettes of oral history from the 30s and 40s..." It is also apparently one of those books which have been published over the last ten or so years by Amazon under deals which have them sold as printed on demand. As a class of books, I have usually found them to be less than the most rational purchases I have ever made, and I have often stated my intentions to never order another one of this type. But before I come off as totally negative about this book, let me say that it does have some merit, primarily in the purely oral history sections of the book. But it is amazingly redundant in the first two articles or chapters. The first is called "The Forties" and listed as being credited to a Joseph Alexander instead of the listed author Diane Alexander. The second article or chapter is called "Appalachian Youth in World War II: An Oral History" and Diane Alexander is listed as the author of that article or chapter. The first, "The Forties" is a genuine oral history which was apparently written by Joseph Alexander about his experiences during World War II both in the mountains of North Carolina and in Newport News, Virginia, where his parents emigrated to for employment during World War II. As pure oral history, it has merit, is relatively well organized, acceptably written, and covers the emotions of the young man about being removed from a rural Appalachian mountain life to life in a Tidewater city during the war. The second, credited to Diane Alexander, is nothing more than an article, or most likely a high school or college term paper, based on the oral history in the first section. It gives her rendition of several of the same episodes Joseph Alexander discussed in his oral history and the quotes from that oral history are ethically attributed to him. But the highly repetitive and redundant nature of the paper or article leaves it only slightly more than useless. Ms. Alexander would have been far better served to have used only one of the chapters in the book, either the pure oral history or her own conclusions about that oral history with credit to Joseph Alexander. But putting both in the book was a waste of both time and paper. By the time I had read both of these sections of the book, I considered abandoing the remainder which is an act of which I am rarely guilty. But I perserved as I almost always do in such cases since I know that I have also written some things which some people did not really choose to suffer through. I have always thought that is another person suffered through the effort to produce a book they at least deserve the respect to have me finish reading it since I chose to buy it and spend my money on it. The third section of the book, entitled "Firewood", is another piece of oral history written by Joseph Alexander about a chore of his youth in the North Carolina mountains. It has a degree of merit equal to that of his first contribution to the book although most modern readers outside a group of off gridders would find it more meaningful than simply something to read for a brief while. It is acceptable as oral history from a prior era and a man's discussion of a portion of the life which made him the man he was when he wrote it. Thankfully, Ms. Alexander does not insert her own article about this particular oral history. The next section, "Spotlight on Appalachia: Settlers and Speech, Music and Moonshine" by Ms. Alexander makes an attempt to discuss all three of the listed elements of Appalachian Culture over the next fifty pages of the book. After having spent the first twenty years of my life in an Appalachian area of Kentucky where moonshine was commonly made, sold, and consumed, and having grown up in a country grocery store where my parents regularly supplied sugar, malt syrup, cracked corn, yeast, and other items to several local moonshiners, I do know a little more than the average novice about this subject. Ms. Alexander does a minimally acceptable job of discussing the topics, but they would have been better served by having been individually discussed in shorter papers. This particular section also shows what is a common problem with the entire book. It would have been much more readable with a higher level of editorial input from a qualified person. That is a common problem in these books which are produced and sold by Amazon without editorial input. Most of those I have seen by all such authors whose work I have read are short on editorial input and long of errors of both omission and commision in all aspects of writing and language. I did think think about this book long enough to produce a blog post about it. I have also saved some of my readers both their time and money if they take my advice and never buy a copy. If you do decide to ignore my advice about the purchase, please do follow my advice about the utility of Joseph Alexander's oral history and the lack of utility in Diane Alexander's writing about it. It will save you half the time it would otherwise take you to read the book and glean most of the value from it.

E. Hawk Moore, Old Regular Baptist Preacher & UMWA Activist

Hawk Moore--Photo by UMWA Local 5895

E. Hawk Moore was an Old Regular Baptist preacher, coal miner, and UMWA member and official in UMWA Local 5895 in Wayland Kentucky where he worked for Elkhorn Coal Company for many years and also served as the local's Burial Committeeman for many years.  He was also a close friend of my father, Ballard Hicks, who was also employed by Elkhorn Coal Company for a few years before leaving the mine to buy a country store and care for his terminally ill first wife.  Hawk, as he was always known, lived about a mile up Steele's Creek from my father's store near the head of the hollow and just above the Steele's Creek Church which he served for years as moderator.  Sadly, that church is no longer in existence other than as a rental house.  I apologize for the poor quality of the photo above but it was the only one I could find of Hawk.  It is a detail of a group photo of the Local 5895 officials which is included in the book "Twentieth Anniversary...of Local Union 5895 United Mine Workers Of America 1933-1953" about which I have also written in this blog.  I am also still searching for further biographical information about Hawk above and beyond what is in that book and what I know personally.  Hawk's name also appears regularly in the Minutes of several other Associations of Old Regular Baptists as a delegate as does the name of Clabe Mosley whom I wrote about earlier.  

 

 

I have often seen Hawk's name mentioned in obituaries in the Floyd County Times and I know that the paper's online morgue will contain his obituary which I will quote extensively in a future edit of this blog post.  I believe I will also be able to locate another version of that obituary in the Minutes of The New Salem Association of Old Regular Baptists in the near future.  Although, my father never joined any church, he often attended Old Regular Baptist services with my mother, Mellie Hicks, and knew most of the Old Regular Baptists in the Floyd and Knott County area.  He often traveled to Quicksand Creek in Breathitt County Kentucky to squirrel hunt with Hawk Moore and his son George Moore and a few other men.  They always hunted on the same farm on Quicksand which belonged to some man whose name I do not remember who also was known to make moonshine.  They would travel to Breathitt County to the farm where they were allowed to camp and hunt for as much as a week at a time.  According to my father, part of the deal was that he would always check in with the landowner at his home and inquire as to "where his cow was being pastured".  This was a code phrase which they used so the man would tell them which area of his farm was off limits since that was where his moonshine still was located.  Apparently, the farm was rather large and even with being limited from hunting in one small fork of the hollow or another, they could all still cover plenty ground, kill their limit of squirrels, and avoid interfering with or leaving a trail to the owner's still.  The other part of the deal was that they also bought at least one gallon of moonshine among the lot of them.  I suspect that at times they might have bought several gallons.  For many years until shortly after I was born my father kept a gallon of moonshine in the house for "medicine" but was never a heavy drinker.  

Hawk Moore never drank at all because of his religion but since the other members of the hunting party were able to do so without causing problems he still hunted with them under that setup.  One of my father's favorite stories about hunting with Hawk Moore took place on that farm on Quicksand Creek.  Daddy said he and Hawk were hunting up the same rather narrow, steep, and rocky little hollow one day and Daddy happened to spook a large whitetail buck which was unusual in that time period in Eastern Kentucky.  Hawk was apparently further up the hollow than my father and the deer ran his way.  Both men were hunting with the standard 12 gauge shotguns of the day and probably would not have attempted to kill the deer illegally even if they had been properly equipped.  Daddy said a few seconds after the deer bolted up the narrow, high sided drainage of the hollow he heard Hawk scream something or other like "Whooee!".  Later, he said Hawk said he had been coming down a particularly narrow area of the drainage and the buck nearly ran over him almost literally touching him as the sizeable rack slid past his body.  Hawk was known to make the somewhat humorous claim later that he always believed that my father had been trying to get him killed by driving the deer over him.  They remained friends for life and, as I recall, Daddy made a trip from our new home on Right Beaver Creek to attend Hawk's funeral when he died.  There were also numerous trips through the years between the time we moved from Steele's Creek to Beaver Creek that my parents would hire a driver, since neither of them drove, and travel to Steele's Creek on Sunday to attend the church which was also the church my mother joined.  

I will keep searching for further information about Hawk and edit this post as soon and as extensively as I can.