Blind Pig & The Acorn

Mountain Folk

 
Today's post is a Mountain Folk interview. It's been a while since I last did one-something I hope too remedy in the future. When I first started the Blind Pig one of my desires was to interview the older generations-to get down on 'paper' what their early lives were like-to garner valuable information about the old ways before it's too late.

Over the last 2 and half years-I've made a wonderful discovery-in addition to the older generations-I've found there are folks my age (some younger-some slightly older) who are carrying on the old traditions too. In other words-I'm a naysayer to those who say the Appalachian Culture has faded away. I've found it's alive and well in households from one end of the Appalachian Mountains to the other.

My goal is to do more Mountain Folk interviews-to preserve the wealth of information the older generations own-but also to spotlight everyday folks who have found a way to weave the culture of our forefathers into the modern lives we lead today.

 
Today's Mountain Folk Interview is with J.C. Cole. J.C. was born and raised in Haywood County NC.

J.C. what were things like when you were a kid compared to now?

Well we didn't sit around and watch tv all the time. I remember the first time I saw a color tv was at Sears & Roebuck. There wasn't no sodiewater or soft drinks. You either drank milk or water. If you did get some cider or juice it was a real treat.

Since you mentioned food-what were the differences in food from then till now?

We had fried taters all the time but didn't know much of nothing about french fries. We used loaf bread for our hamburgers. And we had coarse ground cornmeal. I like to have never gotten used to store bought cornmeal. Daddy always said yellow corn is for the hogs and white corn is for the people. When I was a boy we grew or raised most everything we ate.

You've lived in this area your whole life-how has Haywood County changed?

When they finished up this part of interstate 40 I remember people saying why in the world are they building such a highway when you only see 10 or 12 cars go by. Why they'll never be enough vehicles to fill it up. But we were wrong. I sit here some days and watch the little portion I can see in the distance and the traffic never stops, it never stops day or night it just keeps going in both directions.

What would you say about today's Appalachia?

Younguns don't know what they've got-but they don't know what they've missed either. Folks just rush through it all. They don't take time to enjoy life. The last 2 years I've been forced to slow down by my health and now I realize what's important and what isn't worth a hill of beans. Society tells our kids that they need to start out at the same level as their parents or better. The I wants have gotten above the I needs.

Do you know other people-who are like you-who are holding on to the old ways?

Yes I've got lots of friends who were born and raised in the area that do things the way their Mommas and Daddies did. They still slaughter hogs, hunt, raise a garden, can, quilt, and one still makes syrup every year.

Can you sum up what you'd say about your life in the Southern Highlands of Appalachia?

I'm afraid it's a changing for the worse. People don't realize this is a gift from God. People don't realize The Smoky Mountains are in their backyard. The mountains weren't never meant to be cut up and built all over. You can't even drink from the streams no more. But I wouldn't live no where else. We've got the best weather and there's not a prettier place either. The hard work ethic our people have, the having to make something out of nothing way of life caused the strong fierce independent nature of the people of Appalachia. Today we don't have much but what we have is ours. I don't have to worry about bills and owing folks. We grow a garden and raise livestock for food. Other than having electricity we live much like my grandparents did and it makes me happy to know that.

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Hope you enjoyed meeting J.C.-just an everyday person who lives out his life in Appalachia walking in the footsteps of his elders.

Tipper

p.s. You know what I think? I think J.C. is preserving my culture just by living his life-and he doesn't even realize it-now that is something to think about!

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Sinners and Saints

See the gentleman sitting at the end of the couch-that's was Pap's Uncle Frank-my Great Uncle Frank. He died when I was in High School-but lately he's been on my mind.

Depending on who you talked too-there would have been folks who liked him a lot and folks who didn't care for him at all. He was what you might call an outlaw.

Frank served in World War II. As kids we were forever impressed he killed the Germans. We all told the tale of him fighting down a hundred machine guns at one time-and leaving the enemy in his wake. Looking back, I don't ever remember him talking about the war-I think one of my cousins made the story up for the gospel and we all went along with it.

To say Frank had a drinking problem was an understatement. I believe all his brush ups with the law were caused by it.

One morning I was outside playing when a cousin ran up to Pap and Granny's to tell me "the law is down at Papaw's and they're looking for Frank." I chased him back at break neck speed. There leaned the officer against his parked car. As he stood by the line of mailboxes he said "I've got all day to wait."

Where was Frank? As soon as he saw the law coming up the road, he went out the back door of Papaw and Mamaw's house, up through the woods, down the bank and in the back door of my Uncle's house. While the policeman stood his post, Frank sat on the couch and ate a sandwich.

Although they didn't get him that day, there were other times when they did-like the night they busted in the doors of Papaw and Mamaw's house.

Frank went back and fourth between Mamaw's, she was his sister, and one of their other sister's who lived across the mountain in Pine Log. Sometimes on weekend mornings we'd awaken to find him sitting on the front steps waiting for us to wake up-waiting for Granny to cook breakfast.

After Mamaw died, Frank bought a trailer and put it in the pasture down the road. He entertained other outlaws-most harmless, and drank a lot till the end of his life. Not long after he moved into the trailer Paul was riding his bicycle up and down the road when Frank hollered out the door and told him if he'd go get him a jug of water from the old spring across the road he'd pay him a dollar. Being the little rat that he was and since he knew Frank couldn't see him-Paul got the water out of the creek instead of going to the spring. A few day's later Frank offered him another dollar for a jug of water-telling Paul-and "And this time don't get it out of the creek-Go to the spring."

One Sunday night-Frank accidentally set fire to the trailer. While building a fire he got the gas and kerosene cans mixed up.

Once the trailer was engulfed he simply walked up the road to my Uncle's, went in, and had a seat. You can imagine how he looked-how he smelled. They asked him "Frank what in the world happened to you?" He told them "oh I set the house on fire."

When we arrived home from church-the blaze was huge-and the fire trucks hadn't arrived yet. I was terrified he was still in there-Granny about had to slap me I got so worked up. Later that night, after the terror was over, and the fire was out, Frank spent the night with us-I'll never forget the way Granny's blue bathroom looked when he got done taking a shower let's just say it was no longer blue.

Frank was good as gold to me, he served his country during a horrible war, he took Pap under his wing in Ohio and California, and yet somehow he was an outlaw too. That's what I've been thinking about-how most of us to one degree or another are sinners and saints at the same time-just like Uncle Frank.

Tipper

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The Wild Man of Cataloochee

 
                    Early 80's Cataloochee

Ever heard of The Wild Man of Cataloochee? His real name was Arley Phillips. Arley was a legend in Haywood County, NC and beyond. He died almost 2 weeks ago-he was 77 years old.

Quote from article featured in The Mountaineer, written by Vicki Hyatt:

Phillips lived in the White Oak community under conditions seldom found in today’s world. His  primitive home had no running water or electricity and is unchanged — except for wear and tear — from the time it became the family home. The Phillips were one of many forced to relocate when the Great Smoky Mountains National Park was formed. There is no insulation in the house and the construction of yesteryear allows plenty of places for outside air to circulate in both winter and summer.  

In years past, Arley frequented the Cataloochee area of the park. As folks saw him slip through the woods or look for food in the dumpsters-they nicknamed him The Wild Man of Cataloochee.

The Deer Hunter and Papaw Tony spent many days and nights in the Cataloochee section of the park. It was their favorite place for camping, horse riding, and fishing. The Deer Hunter was always on the look out for The Wild Man, over the years he saw him several times. Once The Deer Hunter was trout fishing-as he looked up The Wild Man crossed the river just a few feet ahead of him-he never spoke just looked at The Deer Hunter and kept going.

Arley's nephew, neighbors and a few other folks did befriend him-leaving him food and other items he needed-checking on him every once in a while to make sure he was o.k.

By the time I met The Deer Hunter and Papaw Tony, their days of camping at Cataloochee were over. You had to reserve a place to camp-I suppose you still do. One day Papaw got a phone call that he wouldn't be able to camp the coming weekend-even though he'd had it reserved for quite some time. Seems someone more influential than Papaw and his horse riding buddies had rented the entire park. Papaw decided a little complaining was necessary-but it was to no avail. Then he decided he'd rent the entire park himself-however it seemed he wasn't allowed too. After Papaw contacted a congressman about the issue-the welcome mat was never put out for Papaw and The Deer Hunter again-actually that's an understatement. It was more like-come if you want too-and we'll make sure we find every fraction of the law you violate no matter how small it is. During one of the last trips they made to Cataloochee-there were 21 flat tires among their group of horse riders.

Years ago The Deer Hunter told me about The Wild Man-I was intrigued from the beginning-what did he eat? Did he talk to anyone? Did he have a house? Did he get lonely? Seems kinda sad that all my questions were answered through the death of Arley Phillips.

Ever heard of The Wild Man of Cataloochee?

To read the entire article about Arley Phillips in The Mountaineer click here.

Tipper

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Our First Christmas In The Matheson Cove, 1936

Our First Christmas In The Matheson Cove, written by Eddie Lee Mull Garrett

In December, 1936, I was not yet enrolled in elementary school. Even so, I remember many details about our family moving into the Matheson Cove. On 'moving day' my little sister, Bennie Louise, my brother John and I were busy helping my mama load up our wagon. She told us to pack everything. With a smile on her face, mama said, "We are not coming back. We are moving to our very own place!"

Soon we were settled into the back of our wagon and bundled up with mama's quilts. The wind blew cold against our faces! Mama and daddy were smiling; talking about 'Our First Christmas' in the Cove. Bennie Louise whispered to me about Santa Claus. John declared, "Santa will not find our house in the woods!" I did not want to think about Santa. In the back of our minds we knew he would not stop at our house. He had never brought toys to our old house!

A few days after we had moved into our new house mama asked daddy to go cut a little field pine tree for our first Christmas in the Cove. My older brother, William, and sister, Ida Jane, got busy making paper roping for the tree. My mama popped some popcorn. Then we strung the popped corn on sewing thread to make strings of snowy white decoration. Soon our little Christmas tree was beautiful. I loved it! We were ready for Christmas Eve!

The three older children did not talk about Santa. As we lay in bed that special night, whispering, Bennie asked me if I thought Santa Claus would come to our house. Softly I whispered, "Shhhh! Don't think about it!" So she just closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep.

Awakening on Christmas morning, we rushed to the pretty Christmas tree. Sure enough there was not one shiny toy, not one pretty doll under our tree! But there were five brown paper pokes filled with something special.

After our morning prayers, mama and daddy handed each of us a brown paper poke and wished us a "Merry Christmas!" Inside our poke we found an orange and a stick of peppermint candy. We were so happy that mama and daddy had done that for us. After a warm breakfast, the boys went sledding on the sled which daddy had made. My sisters and I stayed inside and cut paper dolls from the Sears Roebuck Catalog. That night mama made snow cream for us. It was a mighty fine "FIRST CHRISTMAS" seventy years ago in the Cove!

That was the way we celebrated Christmas all through the years. Our family grew to include six more children. We did not know about such things as television, video games, computers or China. We were happy and at peace in our quiet world.

written by: Eddie Lee Mull Garrett (December 2006)

A special thank you too Eva Nell Mull Wilke for for sharing her sister's article with us. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did!

Tipper

p.s. Jump over to Carolina Crafting for a great giveaway.

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Mountain Folk

Saturday morning brought the first snow fall to my area of Appalachia. We only got a dusting-but me and the girls were wishing for a big snow. It seems like it snowed more when I was a kid-maybe it did-or maybe all the fun I had playing in it when it did snow-stands out in my memories. On a hot day this past summer-I interviewed a gentlemen who told me about one of the biggest snows he remembered from his childhood. He also detailed a few of the toys kids played with in those days.

Worth Smathers was born on March 16, 1934 in the Dutch Cove area of Haywood County NC. He had one brother-who was 16 mos older than him named Woody.  

What was life like when you were a child Worth?

All the play pretties for children were made by hand. Sometimes we'd take a steel hook or ring-bend a wire and roll the ring down the road. Grandpa Smathers once cut down an apple tree. They took 4 blocks of the wood turned them into wheels added an axle and made a wagon. We'd go out into the woods and ride grapevines that were hanging high in the trees. If we found an old piece of metal we'd sled down the mountain on the pine needles.

What memories stand out to you from childhood?

On my 7th Birthday me and Woody, my brother, spent the night with Grandpa and Grandma Smathers. We always slept upstairs in a room where the chimney kept the room warm. When we woke up the next morning and looked out the window the snow was up to the fence posts. We all went out to look off the porch and Grandpa pushed me off the porch. The snow was so deep I had to tunnel back to the steps to get back on the porch. After that me and Woody tunneled to the woodpile to get wood for Grandma Smathers.

My other Grandpa, John Mease, lived in Henson Cove. Grandpa was about too stingy to eat. He'd go to the store and want to buy 10 cents of fatback at a time, he was that cheap. They made cornbread in the tiniest pan you ever seen. They'd cook only 2 taters at a time one for him one for Grandma. They'd only cook a 1/2 pint of beans at at time too. They wanted to make sure there wasn't any wasted nor enough to share with anyone else either.

Daddy bought me and Woody a 1936 wagon. We were playing with it and broke off one of the back wheels. Daddy thought we were being too rough with it and said "if your going to tear it up I'm going to put it up." Several years ago, about 10 years, I woke up with that wagon on my mind. After Daddy put it up we all forgot about it and he never did get it back down. After I woke up thinking about it, I went and found it. It took some time but I restored it to the way it was when we first had it.

I hope you enjoyed my interview with Worth. He has led an exciting life. In 1952 he accidentally shot himself-the bullet went through his thumb into his eyebrow and exited at the edge of his hair. Then in 1982 he was in a tractor trailer wreck that ruptured his gall bladder. Although he spent many years living in California, he now resides in Dutch Cove where he was born and raised.

Tipper

p.s. I keep hearing stories about the big snow Worth mentioned. Apparently it was a major snowstorm for western NC and beyond.

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Christmas Spirit

Do you have your Christmas tree up yet? I don't. I usually put the trees up on Thanksgiving Day-or at least the day after (one big one-3 little ones-cause I love Christmas). This year I'm just not interested in decorating. I tried to convince the girls we should just put up one of the little trees instead of the big one. They didn't like my suggestion.

I'm not sure what my problem is-maybe it's the economic mess most folks are feeling. In my area, folks have held on till they just can't anymore. Seems everyday I hear about another family I know who's loosing their home. Maybe in the back of my mind-I feel it just isn't right to celebrate when so many of my neighbors aren't sure they'll have a roof over their heads for much longer.

As I contemplated my lack of Christmas Cheer-I recalled an old Christmas letter David Templeton sent me a few months back. When I read it the 2nd time I found it was just as powerful as I remembered. See what you think:

Mon-Morn-Dec 10. 1962

    Herndan, Va.

 

Dearest sister an family.

 

    Just a few lines let you know I am still living and as well as could be expected at my age.  Never feel good iny more.

 

    Hope this will find the whole famley well and happy.  Well sister Ronald had his operation.  Got over it fine.  Seams to be in better helth now.  Is looking good.  Elsie don’t never feel well looks bad.  They both are working.  Elsie has bin working 6 days to the week.  Ron puts in lot over time.  That way it goes at this time of year.  Well sister we had pretty fall, but it sit in to snowing baut week a go the ground was warm if it hadent bin we would has a big onea bout 2 inches layed on.  Still some on ground. And Cold was 10 a bove this morn-Ilook for us to have a ruff winter that is what they are predictin.  I dread it.  Well I had go to stellas a  week a go.  Stay with neylun the children while Stella was in Hospitalle her Docter put her in to have testes run on her.  He thought had what anna Sue had.  But thank God she dident it was thyroid and nirvis Condition.  Thay are treating her.  I hope she don’t half to have a opration.  Seams like some of my family is always sick.  I told them all I wanted for Christmas was all the family to be well.  Would be the best thing in the world.  I have went throw so much.  Sister how is all your family?  I am Just sending you a card and letter.  I haven’t got to do no Christmuss shopping.  They way thay woork I don’t have no way to go.  So don’t you send me nothing but a letter a baut your self the whole family I would like that better than iny thing I think a baut you all and wonder how you are.  Sister I would love to spend Christmus with you better than iny thing but at this time of year would be dangras to travel and make a  Change so I will do like the ground hog hole up tell warm wether but will be always thinking of my love ones wishing I Could be with them.  Well sister Ronald and Elsie bough them a house and 1 acer land. We have moved I like it fine.  We have watter in house I don’t half pack it like I did don’t half be out for nothing but go to mail box. The house has living room 2 bed rooms kitchen dining room bath room portch large basment we wash down there.  Is room up stars to make 2 bed rooms if thay want to is stare way up there we keep all our Junk up there hang cloths to dry up there.  We have oil heat Cook with gass.  The house is white an out side trimed in blue.  Have a big lawn plenty of srubery the Lawn borders an high way.  The best thing we have land a nough to raise all the vectbles we want.  There is 3 big pine trees in yeard.  2 grape vines lots rose bushes.  Thay payed 1/3 down pay the rest a paying rint till thay pay for it.  Well sister I am going to wash to day so I will sine of here.  Tell Frank and Homer helow and not do nothing that I wouldn’t.  and dear sister, write me a letter for Christmaus gift I would like that better than iny thing.  Take care of your self and be carfule if it gets icey and snows down there if you was to fall brake a bone would be hard to hell at your age.  Wishing every one of you helth happens and susess in all your under taking.  May the good Lord take care of you all and keep you until we meet a gin is my prayer.

 

Love always

 

    Your only sis Emma   by by now

 

    X O X O X O

 

David's words detailing how he found the letter sum up the emotion it evokes much better than I could:

I was fishing along a mountain creek over in Lee County Virginia. There was a gravel road that ran along the high bank, just above the creek. Lost in the thickets and honeysuckle, still hanging on to the banks of the road, but falling down eventually into the creek, was the ghost of an old house. Its roof was mostly caved in but the floors were somewhat still intact, so I could get into it.

Some of the old linoleum was still in place and some patches of wallpaper clung to the walls. Even a piece of furniture or a cabinet waited for someone from long ago to come back and take it with them.

I looked in a kitchen cabinet and found an old letter, still in the envelope someone had licked and mailed and someone had happily opened one December, many years ago, but time worn so the sender's address couldn't be seen. One end was torn off and two or three pages of still folded writing poked out.

I read the letter and, you know Tipper, I could feel the frail little woman, standing there, reading the Christmas thoughts her dear sister had sent.

And, I could look around the now dilapidated remains of a once warm home and imagine the little woman's smiles from another time as she put wall paper on the cabin's walls or when they brought the roll of linoleum she had gone to Jonesville and picked out at the furniture store. And, I could imagine a time when she had children there and the school bus was coming and she hurried them off and then sat at her kitchen table and wrote back to her sister.

And when I read the letter today, as I sometimes do, I can feel the poignancy as she and her sister pined to see each other during that bleak midwinter's day.

Weren't letters so much more meaningful when they were hand-written, just as the writer felt and just like the writer talked, without the adulteration of spell-check and grammar-check and fancy printed fonts?

Anyway, that's how I found the letter: In an old falling-down cabin in Virginia, written many years ago at Christmastime.

After thinking about the old letter for the past few days, after wondering over and over if the sisters ever got to see each other again-I've found my Christmas Spirit. The reason for the season is what I should be celebrating-not the trees nor the lights. Those 2 guys up there in the picture with me-there's never been a Christmas that we've not been together-never been a time I had to write a letter to a brother far away and wish I could see him. In these tough times-I think thats enough-actually its always been enough-but pondering the fate of our nation seems to have cleared my vision enough to see it.

I'm going to put my trees up.

Tipper 

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Characters In Appalachia

Every once in a while I wake up with a smile on my face-a day where it seems everything I see tickles my funny bone. Adding to my humorous mood today-a good breakfast shared with an old friend. It's nice to share laughter with a friend and it seems extra special when you can laugh about old times you both shared together-you know like when one of you dressed up their family in trash bags to protest against the local school board.

 

I love to hear Pap tell funny stories from his past. Most of the characters are long gone from this world-but they still live in Pap's mind and I'm sure on occasion he awakes with one of them in his thoughts and a smile on his face.

When Pap was a boy, there was a funny older man around the community-folks even called him Old Man. Pap said he was as good as gold and would help anyone who needed an extra hand. Like most characters-he was lots of fun to be around. Pap said Old Man used big words to try to impress folks-however, the words weren't always real words. He wore a tie every day of the week no matter what kind of shirt, pants or overalls he had on. Old Man was also partial to fancy socks-and wore his pants just short enough to show them off.

A young local boy was drafted but when he went over to Knoxville to officially sign up-they turned him down. Everyone at the local country store was wondering why they would have turned him down. Old Man knew the answer "It wasn't his physidition it was his edmentation that got him turned down." uh?

One fall day Pap heard Old Man say "There ain't no defalcation about it -it's going to turn cold."

Another thing that made Old Man a real character-he made sure everyone he met-knew that even though he was a Methodist-he wasn't sprinkled he was baptized-dunked completely under.

Characters like Old Man are one of the things that make life interesting. I can think of a few characters from my past that still put a smile on my face-how about you?

Tipper

p.s. To read more of Pap's LOL in Appalachia memories click here.

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Spring Hill School, Haywood County, NC

Sue Cole was born in 1932. Earlier this summer, as we sit under a canopy of trees, she shared her memories of school with me.

I went to Spring Hill school in Haywood County, NC. We had school about 8 months out of the year cause children had to help their parents with the planting of the garden and the harvesting of the garden.

The school had two potbellied stoves. Some of the older boys were responsible for getting in the kindling and the coal. We had to go outside to use the bathroom or wash our hands. We had a three hole outhouse and you were allowed to use three sheets of paper. There was a pump outside for getting water.

There was a cloak room in the school to put your coats in and it had a little store in it. You could buy BB Bats Candy for a penny, pencils for a penny, and tablets for a nickle. We always wrote on both sides of our tablets to make them last longer.

Our teachers were Gay and Evelyn Chambers, they were husband and wife and were also our Pastor and Sunday School teachers. Each day someone would read a Bible verse we'd have a devotion and then we'd say the pledge to the flag.

All the children looked forward to Fridays cause we had music. Mrs. Chambers would play the piano and we would sing. It was really fun.

I remember we cut out the Alphabet from paper. The paper was folded and you used your imagination to cut out the letters. We did this for art.

One thing I'll always remember, there was a little boy whose mother had passed away, he didn't have much of anyone to take care of him. Each morning when he got to school Mrs. Chambers would heat water on the stove and wash his little body. She also made sure he had food to eat each day.

Things have changed a lot since I was in school. Mr. and Mrs. Chambers were good people and that's for sure.

Hope you enjoyed Sue's memories-leave her a comment and I'll make sure she reads it.

Tipper

p.s. Thanks to all who commented on What School Used To Be Like. As Pap would say-I thought the comments were extra special.

Grapes and Fox Grapes-Juice and Jelly

by Ethelene Dyer Jones

Both grape juice and grape jelly were two of the items we "put up" on our farm when I was growing up in the mountains. My Grandpa "Bud" Collins had a grape arbor. He had the Concord Grape vines staked to a "fare-you'well," so that when one walked under the arbor and it was time for grape harvest, the luscious clusters of ripe grapes hung like purple gold from the vines with broad leaves that ran along the whole length and breadth of the scaffold.

As a child, I was allowed my own small bucket and a step stool on which to stand (having been warned in advance, "Be careful; don't wiggle or you'll fall off the stool!"). From the vantage point of the stool, I could just barely reach the clusters of grapes. My Aunts Ethel and Avery gave me instructions on how to reach to the end  of the cluster and gently pull off the whole bunch of grapes. I would soon have a bucket full and be so happy about my grape-picking accomplishment!

And then came something I really enjoyed:  Washing the cluster of grapes in clear pans of water. We didn't have running water at that time on the farm, so we drew water from the deep well and had two pans in which we washed the grapes-two washings to insure they were really clean.

The next step was pulling the grapes from the cluster and making sure no stems were put into the pot where we would boil the grapes to make juice for canning or for making jelly. I wasn't allowed to cook the grapes at an early age, but then my mother died when I was fourteen, I found myself of necessity in the role of "head cook and bottle washer" on our own family farm, about a mile away from my Aunts Ethel and Avery-who were always good about giving me advice on any cooking, canning or jelly-making challenges.

We made the grape juice as described in "Blind Pig and the Acorn." I can remember our putting the juice we were planning to use during the winter in green fruit jars, washed clean and sterilized, and sitting in a pan of hot water, with a towel in the bottom of the pan to keep the cans from rattling so against each other and breaking. When the hot juice was poured into the cans, the next step was attaching the sealer. When I was a child, we had a rubber ring and a mason jar top for the sealer lids. It was not until later that we got the current-type two-piece "lid and jar" for sealing cans. I can remember how beautiful-and enticing-the jars of grape juice looked sitting on the freshly-cleaned-out cellar shelves underneath the house. All summer long, as one thing and another "came in" (ripened) and was harvested from the garden or the field, we filled cans and more cans to provide us food for winter use. The grape juice was sort of like the proverbial "icing on the cake" -to have something refreshing to drink during the winter months ahead. 

We made a "run" or two of jelly-a "run" being the amount we could make with a five-pound bag of sugar, and the juice measured cup for cup with equal cups of the strained grape juice that we did not can. We made the grape jelly before "Sure-Jell" was available to us in the country. It took a lot more boiling time to cook the sugar and juice, and it had to be tested by dropping a drip of it into a cup of cold water to test to see if it had "jelled." I thought it was an amazing invention when Sure-Jell became available, during my teen years when I was in charge of the "Dyer Family" kitchen at our farm. I could make jelly in "jig" time compared to the long boil and frequent testing prior to Sure-Jell days. As an added thought, if we ran out of jelly, we could use the canned juice to make jelly, too.

 

Then the Fox Grape harvest came. It was a lot harder to gather these wild grapes, for someone adept at climbing trees along the banks of Town Creek where Fox Grapes grew had the privilege of being the gatherer. Usually it was my brother, always adept at "skinning" (climbing up) a tree. He would go with a bucket laced onto his person with a belt. He would soon get a whole bucketful of the tart grapes and descend to get another bucket to fill. Then we'd go home and begin the process-the same as with grapes from Grandpa Collin's grape arbor-to process the juice and jelly from these wild, tart, not-so-purplish Fox Grapes.

It was a lot of work to gather and process these foodstuffs for winter use. But somehow, we had a way of making it all seem like fun. And the rewards were two-fold; First, the pride in seeing the finished canned products sitting neatly along cellar shelves. All of it, whether grape juice and jelly or other products from garden, field and woods, gave a sense of accomplishment, evidence of a job well done. When ladies of our community "visited around" from farmhouse to farmhouse, they all liked to show their visitors their canned winter store. And the second blessing came when we actually ate the products, sitting in a warm kitchen on a snowy winter day, with the bounty of our harvest and of our frugal work spread out in splendor on the Lazy-Susan table in that kitchen on the farm. Was it any wonder that "to say grace" was so customary then? We were thankful for our work, for the provision of our food needs, and for God's bounty in giving us productive land on which crops grew and the hard-work ethic and determination to, like the industrious ant, lay up for the the days when these products would keep us healthy.

(I grew up in the Choestoe District, Union County, GA near Blairsville. We had farmland along the Nottely River and the creeks of Choestoe.)

by Ethelene Dyer Jones

I hope you enjoyed this piece by Ethelene as much as I did. I met Ethelene about 6 months ago-and from the beginning I was mesmerized by her writing and by the knowledge that history is close to her heart-just like it is mine. Ethelene is a historian, a retired educator, a poet, a genealogist, and an outstanding writer. To learn more about her-and read more of her writing you can visit her here.

Tipper

p.s. To read about one of Pap's Fox Grape adventures-click here.

Mountain Folk

Over the past few months, I've been dwelling on the ever shrinking remnant of the the rich Appalachian Culture. Honestly-the traditions that are still held onto-are fading fast.

As I tried to think on the positive side of the issue-I begin to think of folks from my generation-folks like me who are living their lives with the same traditions their parents and their grandparents upheld. Folks who are melding the old ways into today's world and finding a balance between the two.

As I pondered these thoughts-one of those neat coinky dinks of life happened. I made a new friend-a new friend-who like me-thinks our rich Appalachian Heritage can and should be a road map to our future as well has enrich our present lives.

For today's Mountain Folk Interview-I'd like to introduce you to my new friend-Jackie Cole.

 

When and where were you born?

I was born in 1969 in Asheville, NC. My family moved fairly often and I lived different places. Since I've been married, I've lived in Haywood County, NC in the Canton area.

 

What memories stand out from your childhood?

I loved to play outside-and did any chance I got. My father was a horse trader so there were always horses around to play with. Every time my father traded for a new horse, he'd bring it home and throw me up on it. One time, he bought a mustang stallion from out west. Just like always he unloaded it and threw me up on it's back once it started crow hopping and jumping around, I got off of it as fast as I could.

 

Jackie, I know you are a master canner-and even teach a canning class each week during the summer months, how did you get started canning-was it as a child or after you were married?

My Mother and Grandmother canned when I was a child. I was about 8 when I first started helping them string and break beans. By the time I was 10 or 11 I was helping with the whole process of canning. I guess it's just natural I would continue the traditions I learned as a child. And after eating home canned food for most of my life, the canned items you buy at the supermarket just don't seem to have any taste.

In addition to vegetables and fruit you can meat. Is that something your Mother and Grandmother did too?

No. A lady down the road, Louise Scott, taught me to can meat. After you learn the process you realize it isn't any harder than canning anything else. I can sausage, chicken, deer, pork, and rabbit.

I know from the canning I do-preserving food takes time-why do you do it to the extent you do?

If you preserve the food you raise it helps financially. And health wise the food I put up is so much better for my family. When I open a jar or take something out of the freezer that I put up I don't have to worry about preservatives or any other chemicals they use to mass produce food. I know where it come from, I know its healthy.

What are the biggest changes you see in Appalachia compared to when you were a child?

I think our schools have a lot to do with the speed at which we're loosing our heritage. They frown on the way our children speak and don't encourage children to learn more about our customs and traditions.

Jackie, can you sum up what you think about Appalachia for me?

In one word it means home to me. Although I've lived in different places none felt like home except here in the mountains. The good Lord knew what he was doing when he created the Appalachian Mountains. I think this is the way he meant for us to live. I don't like to go out of the Mountains even on vacation.

I hope you enjoyed this Mountain Folk Interview with Jackie Cole. She has an amazing family and you'll be hearing more about them in the future.

Leave a comment and I'll make sure Jackie reads it.

Tipper