Appalachian History

"Some boys git it in their heads that they can make a sight of money selling liquor. The law cracks down on them almost as soon as they git a start. We see it happen every day around here. You've got to keep the law paid off a good and plenty or else the penitentiary is where they's going to land. Now if they does pay off, where is the profit left from selling? Ain't none. So there they is. I told Cap if he had it in his head to do that, he better be clearing his head of it right now.

"I don't blame him one bit for having his mind set on making a little money to have fun on. Seems like me and Calvin ain't never done a thing ever but work hard all our lives. Some folks find pleasure in going to meeting on Sunday. But it's no church I've had sight of here in Knoxville where the ones coming in and out ain't dressed up fit to kill. Some says it's all the same in the eyes of the Lord about how you dress. But I knows if He's got sense at all, He knows our clothes is too wore out for Sunday strutting. I know they's shabby in my own sight.

"Calvin and me both can read right well. In times back we use to read the Bible pretty much. But seems like you always come across something you can't make out straight. So we just stopped reading it. Looked a pure shame, as wore out as we was, to read things that upset your head.

"I guess I got on to the main of it, though. I know that Jesus Christ died to save sinners. And all that me and Calvin have to do is trust in Him. And we do. And we believe in Him. I don't see where they's any way to keep me and Calvin out of Heaven. Calvin moved away from the mountains to keep a killing from happening. That clears what's said about not killing. We ain't never stole and have always told the truth. We never brought false witness against nobody.

"They's more to it, but I counted them off one day and we is all right. Calvin and me ain't never harmed a living soul in our lives. So I ain't bothering about Hell if I never gits inside the door of a Knoxville church. When me and Calvin gits there I'd be more than glad to do what I could to help others git in.

"They's some folks, not a thousand miles away from here, that are going to need a heap of help. Ah, Lordy, yes!"

Lola Simmons
Knoxville TN 1938 or 1939

Such as Us: Southern Voices of the Thirties
by Tom E. Terrill, Jerrold Hirsch
UNC Press, 1978


Lola+Simmons Knoxville+TN Tom+E.+Terrill Jerrold+Hirsch moonshining religion+in+Appalachia appalachia appalachian+mountains+history

Breakin’ Up Christmas is both the name for 12 days of partying, dancing, and music making ending up on January 6th, Old Christmas day, and also a song sung during that period. The tradition harks from the area that roughly includes Surry County NC, nearby Grayson and Carroll counties in VA, and the independent city of Galax located between the two.

Hooray Jake, hooray John
Breakin’ up Christmas all night long
Santa Claus come, done and gone
Breaking up Christmas right straight along
Don’t you remember a long time ago
The old folks danced the doesey-doe

The tune itself is not of great antiquity. It may have been composed by Preston 'Pet' McKinney, a fiddler and Civil War veteran from Lambsburg, VA. Mt. Airy, NC fiddler Tommy Jarrell, a 1982 NEA National Heritage Fellowship recipient strongly associated with this song, cited McKinney as one of his early influences.

Whether McKinney was the actual author of Breakin’ Up Christmas or not, there's a reason the song can be distinctly pinpointed to the tri-county area. During rainy periods, that region's roads, made mostly of red clay with no gravel, historically became so muddy that wagon wheels would sink in up to their axles. This made travel during inclement parts of the year either difficult or impossible.

New tunes only slowly made their way into the area, often by visitors or because a community member made a trip outside of his locality. Even so, as a tune bounced back and forth over the mountains between North Carolina and Virginia, local musicians might give it a different name, speed it up, add a new twist, and come up with a 'souped-up' version.

"Through this country here, they'd go from house to house almost - have a dance at one house, then go off to the next one the following night and all such as that. The week before Christmas and the week after, that's when the big time was. About a two-week period, usually winding up about New Year. I wasn't into any of this, but used to laugh about it. They'd play a tune called Breakin' Up Christmas, that was the last dance they'd have on Christmas, they'd have Wallace Spanger play Breakin' Up Christmas. There's an old feller by the name of Bozwell, he'd cry every time."

Lawrence Bolt, fiddler
b. 1894
Galax, VA

http://www.ceolas.org/tunes/fc
http://www.mustrad.org.uk/articles/jarrell.htm
http://www.nea.gov/honors/heritage/fellows/fellow.php?id=1982_03


Breakin+Up+Christmas Christmas+in+Appalachia Surry+County+NC Galax+VA Tommy+Jarrell appalachia Appalachian+ballads appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history

Early one day long ago from time out of memory the people of a Cherokee town awoke and faced east to say their morning prayers to the Creator in heaven (Ca-lun-la-ti). In the distance could be heard the cry of an owl, a sign of death and bad luck. The eastern sky began turning many colors, and it looked as if a storm was about to take place. Indians from other villages joined them and there was a feeling of sadness.

Soon, the Little People (Yun-wi T-suns-di -- dwarfs or fairies with long black hair) who lived deep in the forest appeared to the Cherokee; they were only two feet tall and often brought messages to the people. They spoke first to the tribal elders and then to everyone who had assembled in the town.

They told a story of both greatness and sadness. Many years ago, a new star (no-t-lu-si) had appeared in the eastern sky beyond the big salt water. A special boy-child had been born to a tribe chosen by the creator. He had grown into a man of wisdom and had taught his people the ways of the Creator and the straight white path of peace.

He was a man of kindness and brought strong medicine (nu-wa-ti) to his people. Although he taught purity and harmony with the creator, he had many enemies who would not hear his message of peace. They would not believe that his medicine made sick people well. Thus, on this day, they would torture and kill this wise man, and he would walk towards the nightland (death).

As the sky grew dark, the Indians sang a death song to honor this beloved man of peace whom they called the Son of the Creator. All of the animal nations of the forests soon came and stood by them. Because of their sorrow, the Cherokee began to cry. Their tears soon covered the ground. When their weeping had ended, they looked down and saw that their tears had been changed into small stone crosses.

For the Indians, the cross design had always represented the cardinal points or the four directions. Now it had a new religious meaning. The Creator (E-do-da) had heard their prayers and songs and had given them a gift. The Cherokee kept these stone crosses and always honored them.

The Chiltoskey family of Cherokee, NC has preserved this Cherokee legend of the stone crosses.

source: www.patcovahistory.org/fairystone.htm


Cherokee+myths Cherokees Christmas+in+Appalachia appalachia Appalachian+tales appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history

DECEMBER 1915 FRIDAY 24

"Well, the chittlings, a part of them Alice sent over by Pete. They were intestines cleaned ready to cut into short pieces to fry. I told Tillie she needn't fry any for me. They stood in water two or three days and by that time they were smelling like 'all get out' so Tillie carried them away some where. It nearly turns my stomach to think of them.

"After we got the children to bed to-night we three opened up the packages. Put the children's in their stockings which they had borrowed from me and hung up before going to bed. I got a night gown from Tommy & Ola, Sterling tatting shuttle from Al & Edna, Shawl from Jim & Mattie, flash light from Nellie, White silk poplin goods for dress from Mae and Ray silk stockings for Walter and Hilda vest pocket flash light, hand bag & stationery from Orville & Tillie.

"From Mrs. Wilson handkerchiefs, Mrs. Thomas book of quotations. Nellie also sent wrist crochet box for my birthday. Tommy and Ola a second package containing a diary for 1916 which was also for my birthday."













Store at Christmas in Radford VA, 1940




This is a set of diaries/journals that I have that were written 1915-1918 by my great grandmother, Mary Heathcote Thomas, while she was living with my mother's family when my grandfather was headmaster at New London Academy, New London, VA
– Elizabeth Shumate

source: http://snipurl.com/1vre1



Mary+Heathcote+Thomas New+London+VA Radford+VA Christmas+in+Appalachia ,appalachia appalachian+culture appalachian+mountains+history

Irish monks in North America, centuries before Columbus? So claimed Dr. Barry Fell (1917-1994), a professor of invertebrate zoology at the Harvard Museum of Comparative Zoology, and a president of the Epigraphic Society.

Fell’s claims were based on his controversial work in New World epigraphy (the study of inscriptions or epigraphs engraved into stone or other durable materials, or cast in metal, the science of classifying them as to cultural context and date, elucidating them and assessing what conclusions can be deduced from them.

"The rock-cut inscriptions which are the subject of this article are located at archaeological sites in Wyoming and Boone Counties, West Virginia," said Dr. Fell in 1983 in Wonderful West Virginia.

"They appear to date from the 6th—8th centuries A.D., and they are written in Old Irish language, employing an alphabet called Ogam, found also on ancient rock-cut inscriptions in Ireland.

"The inscriptions are accompanied by short annotations in ancient Libyan alphabetic script. The Libyan script is used to render two languages in the annotations (1) the ancient Libyan tongue itself, and (2) an Algonquian dialect of the northeastern group, perhaps allied to Shawnee."

According to Fell, these inscriptions narrated the story of Christ's nativity. His translation of the Wyoming County petroglyph: "At the time of sunrise, a ray grazes the notch on the left side on Christmas Day, the first season of the year, the season of the blessed advent of the savior Lord Christ. Behold he is born of Mary, a woman."

Calculating the difference between the Julian calendar (used until the 16th Century) and today's Gregorian calendar, on December 22, 1982, freelance writer Ida Jane Gallagher and several others from the archaeological community watched as the sun rose, struck the petroglyph on the left side, and then crept across the entire panel, thus ‘proving’ the translation.

The scientific community remained skeptical. "Using the 'decipherment' methods Fell sets out in his March 1983 article it is possible to find in these rock wall markings not only the nativity story but any other preconceived text one might choose," counter Monroe Oppenheimer and Willard Wirtz in The West Virginia Archaeologist Volume 41, Number 1, Spring 1989.

"It is equally sobering to discover on investigation that Barry Fell's connection with Harvard is as a retired professor of marine biology. His profession had nothing to do with archaeology or linguistics or ancient inscriptions, and he is in fact an extremely controversial figure whose previous decipherments of this same kind have been seriously challenged, after careful study, by American, Irish, English and Scottish archaeologists and linguists.

"Reviewing the Wonderful West Virginia report of evidence regarding the Wyoming and Boone County petroglyphs, these authorities conclude, spelling out their reasons, that this is a transparent hoax."

Since the early 1980s, other similar carvings have been discovered in West Virginia at Bears's Fork in Fayette County and Horse Creek in Boone's County. As with the Wyoming County and Boone County petroglyphs, they remain for all to see, challenging those who view them to tease out the identity of the person or persons who carved the messages they contain.


sources: www.catholicism.org/mike-mccormack.html
http://cwva.org/wwvrunes/wwvrunes_3.html
www.neara.org/mulligan/wvpetroglyphs.htm


Dr.+Barry+Fell petroglyphs+in+WV Irish+Monks Wyoming+County+WV Boone+County+WV appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history

Please welcome guest blogger Timothy W. Hooker, author of the Sushi Tuesday blog. Tim teaches English at Cleveland State Community College [TN], is a "Point of View" moderator for WDEF-TV 12, and is the author of several works, including: "Rocket Man: A Rhapsody of Short Stories," "Duncan Hambeth: Furniture King of the South," and "Looking For A City."

You know you are deeply imbedded in a culture when you take for granted things that other people have never heard of.

That’s what I’ve had to learn along the way. And, there’s no better example of it than Ruling Days. You can call it Hillbilly Witchcraft. You can call it White Magic. Or, you may think it’s simply a load of malarkey. But, Ruling Days have been around as long I can remember.

The core idea behind Ruling Days is that certain days are predictors for weather for the upcoming year. More specifically, those days coincide with what others would call Kingdomtide or The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Here’s how it works.

According to the legend of Ruling Days, the weather on December 25th will be the predominant weather for the upcoming January. The weather on December 26th will indicate what kind of weather you will have in February. December 27th will forecast the weather for March. And, on it goes, until you get to the forecaster of the next December, which falls on Epiphany, aka January 6.

Trust me. The old folks in my neck of the woods swear by it. And, I, myself, have found it to be uncannily accurate.

I’m not an anthropologist, so I wouldn’t dare attempt to conjure a theory on how Ruling Days developed. I do know Southern Appalachia was settled by folks whom the European feudal system more or less rejected. And, so, some of the original settlers may have still had a bit of orthodoxy in them and they simply adapted it to their purposes.

I don’t know.

But, Ruling Days is a part of our culture. It’s a part that no amount of intellectualism or sophistication can take away. It’s in us, and that’s what makes it real.


Ruling+Days Christmas+in+Appalachia appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history

The Roanoke [VA] Times, Thursday Morning, December 19, 1929--

Body of Floyd County Girl Is Found On Bent Mountain; Disappeared Last Thursday

Extensive Search Had Been Made for Freeda Bolt, 18,
of Near Willis--Sheriff Locates Body
on Information Reported Given Him By Buren Harmon,
Held at Floyd in Connection With Case.

The body of Freeda Bolt, 18, of near Willis, Floyd County, who disappeared last Thursday night, was found at ten o'clock last night on Bent Mountain, eighteen miles south of Roanoke.

Discovery of the body was made by Sheriff Hilton, of Floyd, and two deputies who, acting on the reported statements of Buren Harmon, of Floyd county, who has been held since the girl's disappearance, that the body would be found beneath several logs, about thirty yards from the highway, where the highway makes a bend on the mountain.

DISCOVERED BODY.
Sheriff Hilton discovered the body about ten o'clock, and communicated with Roanoke county officers, who departed at eleven o'clock for the scene.

The body, fully clothed, was found in a secluded spot in the woods, and was in a fair state of preservation, Dr. G. A. L. Kolmer, Roanoke county coroner, said at 1:30 o'clock this morning, in a telephonic communication.

A heavy cord had been tied tightly around the victim's neck, but whether or not this had been used for the purpose of strangulation or to drag the body from the road to its hiding place, Dr. Kolmer and Deputy Sheriff J. L. Richardson were unable to say. Only a cursory examination was made this morning before the body was removed to the home of J. D. Willett, half a mile from the scene.

REMOVE BODY TO SALEM.
Arrangements were being made to remove the body to Salem, where an autopsy will be held today, Dr. Kolmer said. Whether or not Harmon will be turned over to Roanoke county authorities has not been determined, Deputy Sheriff Richardson said, since it has not been established just where the young girl met her death.

The girl, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. J. K. Bolt, who reside about seven mile from Willis, had been boarding in Willis, while attending school. Telling friends she was going to be married, she left her boarding house last Thursday night and, according to her father's report to police here, she was later seen in company with Harmon, apparently headed toward Roanoke.

SEEN IN FLOYD FRIDAY.
Harmon was seen in Floyd Friday morning, the father stated, but denied having seen the girl on the previous night. He admitted, it was said, that he had an appointment with her that night, but contended that the meeting never took place.

Since that time, Mr. Bolt had asked the aid of police in the principal cities of the State in helping to locate his daughter. It was at first thought that she probably had come to Roanoke, since Harmon had friends here. Search, however, was extended to Richmond and other cities.

Deputy Sheriff J. L. Richardson, accompanied by Dr. G. A. L. Kolmer, county coroner, and R. T. Hubard, commonwealth's attorney, of Salem, went to the scene, arriving there shortly after midnight.

source: www.blueridgeinstitute.org/ballads/fboltnews.html


Freeda+Bolt Roanoke+VA crime+in+Appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history appalachia

I think it was the ninth night, I was told that the wild animals came in from the forest, fields and desert. Some had traveled a long way. They came in late at night when everybody was asleep. They didn’t want to scare people.

They came in quietly to see the Son of Heaven, baby Jesus, for already the birds were telling the story of the first Christmas gift. There were wolves, foxes, bears, deer, rabbits, squirrels, crows, owls, eagles and on and on. At least one representative from all the animal and bird clans. Some of the birds who lived by the rivers, lakes and seas, also represented the fish clans and the other animal and insect clans that lived too far away to make the journey. I remember a storyteller saying that, all night, for three nights, the barn was full, as each wild animal took turns to look at the sleeping Christ child, the son of Supreme Being.

The larger animals held the smaller animals up so they could see into the manger. Arturis, a great cave bear, came each night and laid down on one side of the manger, so the small ones could also climb up on his back to see baby Jesus.

Until that first night, even the tabby cats were wild. Ms. Cat came in from the forest, looked around the barn and saw all the barn and house mice and thought, “plenty of food after the temporary, peace-among-the-beasts, truce, but look at all the roaches. This is no place for the son of God or any other human baby, for that matter, and the human houses are not much better than this barn. It looks like these humans need some help to keep their homes clean.”

My cat told me this part. Her ancestor moved in and spread the word and other cats moved into our homes. Cats chose to live with people, they did not become tame first. That’s why cats still have an independent streak, but they do keep our homes and barns free from creepy crawly things.


From "Christmas Stories," traditional Christmas stories collected between 1962 and 1975 from people in the Southeastern [US] region and adapted for telling by Bluegrass Storyteller, Chuck Larkin
source: http://chucklarkin.com/stories/Christmas_1.pdf


appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history Christmas+in+Appalachia Chuck+Larkin

It was Christmas Eve on Lonesome. But nobody on Lonesome knew that it was Christmas Eve, although a child of the outer world could have guessed it, even out in those wilds where Lonesome slipped from one lone log cabin high up the steeps, down through a stretch of jungled darkness to another lone cabin at the mouth of the stream.

There was the holy hush in the gray twilight that comes only on Christmas Eve. There were the big flakes of snow that fell as they never fall except on Christmas Eve. There was a snowy man on horseback in a big coat, and with saddle-pockets that might have been bursting with toys for children in the little cabin at the head of the stream.

But not even he knew that it was Christmas Eve. He was thinking of Christmas Eve, but it was of the Christmas Eve of the year before, when he sat in prison with a hundred other men in stripes, and listened to the chaplain talk of peace and good will to all men upon earth, when he had forgotten all men upon earth but one, and had only hatred in his heart for him.
---Excerpt from Christmas Eve on Lonesome and Other Stories, John Fox, Jr. New Hampshire: Ayer Co., 1904.

John Fox Jr. (1862-1919) wrote primarily on life in rural Kentucky, Tennessee, and Virginia. Born in Stony Point, KY, he made his name as a novelist after settling in Big Stone Gap, VA, where he spent the last 29 years of his life.

His wildly popular romance/coming-of-age story The Trail of the Lonesome Pine (1908) tells the vivid story of coal engineer Jack Hale falling in love with mountain girl June Tolliver. That bestseller, and The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come (1903), were adapted for the big screen in a few different versions in 1912, 1916, and 1936.

Fox gave public lectures to raise money and during one such lecture met Theodore Roosevelt, who later invited Fox to give readings at the White House. Roosevelt became a life-long friend of Fox's.

Counting among his friends other such popular writers as Richard Harding Davis, Jack London, and Booth Tarkington, Fox was awarded many honors in his lifetime. These included election to membership in the National Institute of Arts and Letters in 1899 and a medal for his literary contributions from the Emperor of Japan. His dedication and lobbying led to the passing of the Federal Copyright Act.

sources: www.shortstoryarchive.com/f/christmas_eve_on_lonesome.html
www.swvamuseum.org/streets1.html
www.online-literature.com/john-fox


Christmas+in+Appalachia John+Fox+Jr appalachian+culture appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history

"A long time ago, when Jack was growin' up, his daddy give him a brand new shotgun for Christmas. Obviously, Jack was as proud as a peacock over this new gift. He wanted to show his daddy just how proud he was by going out and gettin a whole mess of game on his first huntin trip. So, bright and early the very next morning, Jack jumped out of bed, threw on his overalls, boots, and jacket and flew out the door before breakfast. He got up so quick he even beat the crack of dawn.

"As the sun slowly yawned out over the horizon, Jack's shadow was beginning to cast out over Bear Creek. He figured that most of the small game around these here parts would be gettin themselves a drink, right smart early in the morning. Well it wasn't long before Jack's logic paid off.

"Just 40 feet ahead of where Jack stood sat two rabbits, one on each side of a large boulder. Sittin right purty on top of that boulder was a flat rock with a large gray squirrel eatin a hickory nut. Jack looked and calculated a bit. He raised his gun up under his chin and aimed. Boooom. One shot was all it took.

"Jack had hit that flat rock smack dab in the middle and broke it in half exactly under where that big old grey squirrel had been perched. Of course it instantly killed the squirrel. The flat rock's two broken pieces fell simultaneaously on each side of the boulder killing the two rabbits, in a moments notice.

"The kick from the double barrel shotgun was so strong that it knocked Jack clean out into the middle of the creek. It nearly took Jack the better part of 30 minutes to climb out of that creek. Reason being, his overalls had gotten so full of bass that he could barely climb up the bank.

"Finally, when it was able to get up the bank and out of the water his dad-burned butten come flyin off them overalls due to the overload of fish they contained. That button had such force that it flew at a whiz-bang velocity like a rocket into the woods and just happened to hit a twelve point buck running from all this excitement. When this deadly button hit him in mid-stride his momentum carried him nearly 60 feet before he landed and hit his antlers on another rock. This caused a portion of the antlers to become a fragmented projectile that flew into the next pasture killing the neighbors prize bull.

"All that there was left to do now was for Jack to gather up everything to carry home. The only problem was; how in the world was he going to carry 24 largemouth bass, 1 large grey squirrel, 2 fat rabbits, 1 very large slightly damaged deer, and a 2000 lb. prize bull home by himself? Now that would really be a story…"

Told in the Beech Mountain tradition, from the Wilson Library North Carolina Collections/University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

http://www.ibiblio.org/bawdy/folklore/hunt.html

related post: "The Jack Tales. Not just beanstalks"


appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history Christmas+in+Appalachia hunting Jack+Tales

For Pennsylvania Dutch children Christmas started yesterday, the beginning of ‘chriskringling’ (or ‘Kris kringling,’) the two-week period culminating in Christmas. It’s a hybrid of trick or treating, mischief night, and Christmas caroling.

Tradition dictates that after dressing in costumes, the children sneak up to aneighbor's house armed with noise makers of every shape and size. When all are positioned, a signal is given and a clatter sure to wake the dead booms out. The targets of the attack, usually aunts and uncles, invite the perpetrators in, where the identity of the children is guessed, and everyone enjoys hot cider and all sorts of sweet treats.

The Pennsylvania Dutch Santa figure, Pelze Nichol, or Pelznickel, which Americans tend to pronounce "pelsnickle," eventually became re-worked to "belsnickle." And so, as this Christmas tradition permeated south and into the Shenandoah Valley region, Kris Kringling and Belsnickling have become synonymous. Mrs. Annabelle Vance, the 2007 Hardy County (WV) Folk Festival Belle, for example, said this past July that "at Christmas time, she enjoys Kris Kringling, or Belsnickling, to provide gifts to the children of her community."

Dr. Edwin Fogel says in Twelvetide "The Pennsylvania German belsnickel is derived from St Nicholas, who lived in Asia Minor in the 4th century. He has many names in German including St. Nicles, Niclas, Neckels and Klas; his Dutch form is Santa Claus and the Pennsylvania name is Belznickel or ‘Niklas clothed in furs.’

"In the Shenandoah Valley the Belsnickel and Santa Claus are distinctly different. One is a mythical figure who is supposed to arrive after the children are in bed, and the other actually arrives while the children are still up. The belsnickel is a reality, not something to be believed in on a basis of faith and hearsay, as is Santa Claus."

This duality harks directly from the Black Forest of Germany, where the annual visit of Santa Claus is preceded by that of Knecht Rupert, who goes around the village in a frightful disguise, visiting every house, and terrifying the naughty children by his acquaintance with their various misdemeanors.





related post: "The Belsnickle: definitely NOT Santa Claus"


sources: www.emmitsburg.net/archive_list/articles/people/people/polly_baumgardner_shank.htm
www.hottelkeller.org/christmas.php
Glenville Democrat and Pathfinder, July 19, 2007 (Hardy County, WV)
www.geocities.com/cenantuaheight/PageHH/handh09-13-01.html


belsnickling kris+kringling Christmas+in+Appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history

Hail the blest morn
See the Great Mediator
Down from the regions of Glory descend!
Shepherds, go worship the Babe in the manger,
Lo, for the a guard the bright angels attend.

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,
Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.

Cold on His Cradle the dew-drops are shining
Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore Him in slumber reclining
Maker and Monarch and Savior of all.

Vainly we offer each ample oblation,
Vainly with gifts would His favor secure;
Richer by far is the heart’s adoration,
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.

Shall we not yield Him in costly devotion,
Odors of Edom and offerings divine,
Gems of the mountains and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest and gold from the mine?

"I guess Christmas is without a doubt the best time in the whole year, all around the world, for all folks who celebrate it, and in our family in Kentucky it must be better than any place else. I suppose every child must feel that way about his own home place and his family and their Christmases together. I can remember looking forward all year round to the happy time in December when all the scattered ones of us would gather in around our fireplace and sparkling tree. Just thinking about it would fairly send me out of my mind with joy and excitement.

"On Old Christmas Eve we’d sit fore the fire and Mom and Dad and Granny’d atell us about the baby Jesus born in a stable on this night, and they’d say that if we’d go out at midnight we’d see the elderberry bush blooming in the fence corner right in the snow, and that if we’d peep in through a chink in our stable and make no racket atall we’d see the cow and the old mule kneeling, paying honor to the little King of Kings. Then maybe Granny’d sing us her Christmas carol, "Brightest and Best," in the old mountain tune, and we’d all sing some…That used to be our Christmas."

Jean Ritchie, Singing Family of the Cumberlands
University Press of Kentucky, 1988

Jean Ritchie (b. 1922) is the best known and most respected singer of traditional ballads in the United States. Born in Viper, Kentucky, she comes from a family of musicians who have preserved folk traditions for generations. As to the origin of the carol, Englishman Reginald Heber wrote “Brightest and Best” for the Feast of the Epiphany, and in 1811 published the hymn in the Christian Observer.

sources: www.richardandmimi.com/collaborators.html
www.ket.org/mountainborn/jeanritchie.htm
www.il.essortment.com/jeanritchiebio_rxrr.htm


appalachian+history Jean+Ritchie Best+and+Brightest Christmas+carols Christmas+in+Appalachia appalachia appalachian+mountains+history Appalachian+ballads

Not every place has the distinction of being named after a Christmas treat. Tradition holds that Pudding Ridge, NC, in western Davie County, got its name one rainy day in February 1781 during a Revolutionary War engagement. British General Cornwallis was driving his troops through the soggy hillsides in hard pursuit of American General Nathanael Greene, before finally battling his rival near the current day site of Guilford College in Greensboro. The crossing at Dutchman Creek, until the early 1900s the main crossing toward Yadkin County, was so boggy and thick with mud that it reminded the British of pudding (by which they meant “Christmas pudding.”)

The name stuck with the colonists, who would have been as familiar with Christmas pudding as their rivals and understood the reference immediately. Fortunately most Appalachian traditions associated with this classic seasonal treat have a much more positive connotation than that of being chased by enemies through the mud.

A nineteenth century recipe for Christmas Pudding.

In many of the region’s households, part of the fun of eating Christmas pudding is finding a trinket that predicts your fortune for the coming year. For instance, finding a coin means you will become wealthy. Find a button, you’ll remain a bachelor, find a thimble, you’ll stay a spinster, but find a ring ---ah!--- find a ring, and you’ll be married soon enough. The idea of hiding something in the pudding comes from the tradition in the Middle Ages of hiding a bean in a cake that was served on Twelfth Night. Whoever found the bean became “king” for the rest of the night.

There are more symbols tucked into that luscious black dessert. A traditional Christmas pudding contains 13 ingredients representing Christ and his disciples. When you light the brandy that is poured over the pudding (or in the case of Carolina Christmas pudding, the whiskey) the flame represents Christ’s passion, while the garnish of holly is a reminder of His Crown of Thorns. A proper Christmas pudding is always stirred from East to West in honor of the three Wise Men. Puddings are traditionally prepared five weeks before Christmas, most frequently on the Sunday of the week before the start of Advent.


sources: www.daviecounty.com/commerce/communityHistory.asp
www.burttravels.com/pdf/biltmore.pdf "Christmas at Biltmore Estate/Asheville NC"
www.ca.uky.edu/fcs/keha/materials/2006-07_Recreation.pdf

Christmas+in+Appalachia Christmas+pudding Pudding+Ridge+NC appalachia appalachian+culture appalachian+mountains+history

Jesse Jewell (1902-1975) started what was to become the Georgia's largest agricultural crop- poultry. The now $1,000,000,000 a year industry has given Gainesville the title "Poultry Capital of the World."

Jewell pioneered vertical integration—the combining of all phases of the business, such as raw materials, processing, and distribution, within a single company—in the poultry industry. At the helm of J. D. Jewell, Inc. for more than twenty years, Jewell was a key national leader of the poultry industry.

Jewell's father, Edgar Herman Jewell, owned a feed, seed, and fertilizer business. He died when Jewell was only seven years old. In 1922 young Jesse began working in the family feed business, along with his mother and stepfather, Leonard Loudermilk.

When his stepfather died in 1930, Jewell began managing the family business. As the Great Depression drained the company's receipts, he tried a new approach to boost feed sales. He bought baby chicks and supplied them, along with chicken feed, on credit to cash-poor farmers. Once the chicks were grown, Jewell bought them back at a price that covered his feed costs and also guaranteed the farmers a profit. More and more Hall County farmers began to contract to grow chickens for Jewell.

By the late 1930s Jewell began adding the elements that would make J. D. Jewell the largest integrated chicken producer in the world. The first step, in 1940, was to open his own hatchery. Next came a processing plant in 1941. The booming World War II economy gave a lift to the fledgling Jewell enterprise. By 1954 Jewell added the final touches—his own feed mill and rendering plant. This vertically integrated corporation set the standard for poultry processors everywhere, as did Jewell's trademark frozen chicken. Jewell's hiring policies were also innovative: his processing plant was among the first factories in Gainesville to hire black workers.

Employees of Swift and Company Poultry, a competitor to J. D. Jewell, gathered in December of 1953 or 1954 for a Christmas party. Swift was one of the many poultry processing plants which employed African Americans in Gainesville.

Jewell was a founder and the first president of the National Broiler Council, the president of the Southeastern Poultry and Egg Association, and a U.S. delegate to the 1951 World Poultry Congress. He also gained the presidency of the Georgia Chamber of Commerce, which he led during the 1950s.

source: www.georgiaencyclopedia.org/nge/Article.jsp?id=h-2120

Jesse+Jewell Georgia+poultry+industry+JD+Jewell+Inc Gainesville+GA appalachia appalachian+history +appalachian+mountains+history

Computer games haven’t always dominated the world of childrens’ toys. Two classic wooden folk toys, the whimmydidle and the flipperdinger, have been enjoyed by children for hundreds of years throughout Appalachia. These toys were handmade by people for their own use. Many of the designs for such folk toys were passed down from one generation to the next.

The gee-haw whimmydiddle, also called a ziggerboo (TN), geehaw (GA), hoodoo stick (Cherokees), and lie detector (OH), is mad of smooth twigs stripped of bark. Its two parts are a notched stick with a spinner – or whirligig – pivoted on one end, and a smaller rubbing stick. The object of the whimmydiddle is to make the whirligig spin smoothly to the right (gee) or left (haw), seemingly at your spoken command.

To do this, you must hold both parts lightly to produce maximum vibration. This vibration is set up when you stroke the rubbing stick rapidly back and forth across the notches. If at the same time, you let the tip of your index finger slide along the far side of the notches, the whirligig will twirl unfailing to the right. To reverseits direction, you simply bring your thumb to bear on the near side of the notches. With a little practice, you can switch contacts so inconspicuously that anyone who doesn’t know the trick will have a hard time guessing why the whirligig responds.

The Flipperdinger is a hollow-reed blower with a plug in one end, and a nozzle, made of a smaller reed, projecting from it just behind the plug. In one model, and acorn cup with its center bored out is cemented over the nozzle. In another, a little ‘basketball ring’ bent from copper wire is aligned with the nozzle about three inches above the tip. Both models come with a featherweight ball formed from cornstalk pith.

To work the first flipperdinger, you place the pith ball in the acorn cup and blow lightly but steadily into the open end of the larger reed. When done right, the ball rises slowly in a jet stream of air, hovers a few inches above the nozzle, and then as you ease off, settles back.

The other flipperdinger is harder to master. Here the pith ball has a wire thrust through it – one with a crook in one end. You hang the crook over the basketball ring. Then, with plenty of well-controlled lung power, you can unhook the ball, lower it through the ring, and finally, blow it back up again and replace the crook on the wire.

sources: http://www.wvculture.org/goldenseal/winter04/schnacke.html
Popular Science, Mar 1960, pp. 144-7
http://www.yale.edu/ynhti/curriculum/units/1985/6/85.06.04.x.html

related post: "All I want for Christmas is a whimmy diddle"


Appalachian+folk+toys whimmy+diddle flipperdinger appalachia appalachian+culture appalachian+history

The only asylum
Was the poorhouse, and those who could afford,
Rather than send their folks to such a place,
Kept them at home; and it does seem more human.
But it’s not so: the place is the asylum.
There they have every means proper to do with,
And you aren’t darkening other people’s lives....

Robert Frost (1874–1963), "A Servant to Servants"


Poorhouses (or Almshouses) were tax-supported residential institutions to which people were required to go if they could not support themselves. They were started as a method of providing a less expensive (to the taxpayers) alternative to what we would now call "welfare" - what was called "outdoor relief" in America’s early days.

People requested help from the community Overseer of the Poor (sometimes also called a Poor Master) - an elected town official. If the need was great or likely to be long-term, they were sent to the poorhouse instead of being given relief while they continued to live independently. Sometimes they were sent there even if they had not requested help from the Overseer of the Poor. That was usually done when they were found guilty of begging in public.

"Day laborers, who had worked all summer for a quarter a day, were lucky to get bed, board, and roll-your-own Bugler tobacco in exchange for help with winter chores. Some, in dire straits, went on relief or to the county poorhouse. Many times, farmers just took their tobacco checks to the grocer or the banker and turned it over to them to pay off bills and notes, maybe holding a little out for Christmas. Some got their checks cashed, got drunk, and lost it all in a poker game in Huntington, WV. Then the whole process started over."

Tragedy on Greasy Ridge: True Stories from Appalachian Ohio
Danny Fulks, Jesse Stuart Foundation, 2003

By the 1930’s, the poorhouse population became increasingly more narrowly defined, as social welfare legislation (Workman’s Compensation, Unemployment benefits and Social Security) began to provide a rudimentary “safety net” for people who would previously have been pauperized by such circumstances. Eventually the poorhouses evolved almost exclusively into nursing homes for dependent elderly people. But poorhouses left orphanages, general hospitals and mental hospitals -- for which they had provided the prototype -- as their heritage.

Source: www.poorhousestory.com


the+poorhouse almshouses Robert+Frost Greasy+Ridge+OH appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history

Kephart: “People up North, and in the lowlands of the South as well, have a notion that there is little or nothing going on in these mountains except feuds and moonshining. They think that a stranger traveling here alone is in danger of being potted by a bullet from almost any laurel thicket that he passes, on mere suspicion that he may be a revenue officer or a spy.

“Of course, that is nonsense; but there is one thing that I'm as ignorant about as any novel-reader of them all. You know my habits; I like to explore--I never take a guide--and when I come to a place that's particularly wild and primitive, that's just the place I want to peer into. Now the dubious point is this: Suppose that, one of these days when I'm out hunting, or looking for rare plants, I should stumble upon a moonshine still in full operation--what would happen? What would they do?

Moonshiner: "Waal, sir, I'll tell you whut they'd do. They'd fust-place ask you some questions about yourself, and whut you-uns was doin' in that thar neck o'the woods. Then they'd git you to do some trifflin' work about the still--feed the furnace, or stir the mash--jest so's't they could prove you took a hand in it your own self."

"What good would that do?"

"Hit would make you one o'them in the eyes of the law."

"I see. But, really, doesn't that seem rather childish? I could easily convince any court that I did it under compulsion; for that's what it would amount to."

Revenue officers with a captured still on Rich Mountain, NC in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, November 18, 1931. Photographer George A. Grant.

"I reckon you-uns would find a United States court purty hard to convince. The judge'd right up and want to know why you let grass go to seed afore you came and informed on them."

He paused, watched my expression, and then continued quizzically: "I reckon you wouldn't be in no great hurry to do that."

"No! Then, if I stirred the mash and sampled their liquor, nobody would be likely to mistreat me?"

"Shucks! Why, man, whut could they gain by hurtin' you? At the wust s'posin' they was convicted by your own evidence, they'd only get a month or two in the pen. So why should they murder you and get hung for it? Hit's all 'tarnal foolishness, the notions some folks has!"

"I thought so. Now, here! The public has been fed all sorts of nonsense about this moonshining business. I'd like to learn the plain truth about it, without bias one way or the other. I have already learned that a stranger's life and property are safer here than they would be on the streets of Chicago or of St. Louis. It will do your country good to have that known. But I can't say that there is no moonshining going on here; for a man with a wooden nose could smell it. Now what is your excuse for defying the law? You don't seem ashamed of it."

The man's face turned an angry red.

"Mister, we-uns hain't no call to be ashamed of ourselves, nor of ary thing we do. We're poor; but we don't ax no favors. We stay 'way up hyar in these coves, and mind our own business. When a stranger comes along, he's welcome to the best we've got, such as t'is; but if he imposes on us, he gits his medicine purty damned quick!"

Our Southern Highlanders by Horace Kephart
(Outing Publishing Company, 1913)


Our+Southern+Highlanders Horace+Kephart moonshining revenuers rich+mountain+nc Great+Smoky+Mountains+National+Park appalachia appalachian+mountains+history

"We were out playing one Sunday evening and it was cold as blue blazes. It was blowing a little blue snow I believe. And Daddy, he had always been strict about things, and he didn’t want us out that evening. It was just too cold for any of ust to be out there but we went on anyway. He couldn’t get us in the house, without just whipping us and making us stay in the house.

"Daddy had an old face mask. We called it an old dough face and it had a beard, you know. It had eyebrows, and old hair on the chin. Daddy put that thing on and he put an old black coat on and and old black hat. And we knew Daddy had this now all the time but when it happened we didn’t. It scared the daylights out of us.

"He had a store building and were out behind that old store building playing. There was a little bank out there kind of where we could dig holes back in and we were just working away. One of the kids looked up and saw him, and man, there wasn’t a thing left between there and the house. Even though we knew all the time Daddy had that thing.

"After awhile Daddy came in the house and wondered what was wrong. We told him the booger man got after us and he says, 'Now see there, I told you if you got out and built roads and cards and did things like that on Sunday that’s what’d happen to you. The booger man would get you.'"

Ruth Cabe
The Foxfire Book of Appalachian Toys & Games
by Linda Garland Page, Hilton Smith
(UNC Press, 1993)


booger+man appalachia appalachian+culture Appalachian+tales appalachia+history appalachian+mountains+history

"Back in the days when I knew him, Uncle William [ed.-- William Creech 1845-1918] was the sage of Pine Mountain; he was the leader to whom the creek dwellers far and near turned for guidance in time of decision.

"In any rural community the mail is always a matter of importance, particularly in a region so isolated as the Cumberlands. Uncle William had decided that Pine Mountain’s crying need was a post office.

"For years he had labored so that letters could come to the little cabins that dotted the green hollows. At every attempt his efforts foundered on the stern government rule that no office could be opened until the postal business in the area reach a certain definite total each year.

"Uncle William at last grew weary of delay and failure. He decided to take drastic action; when Uncle William took action a result was as certain as night follows day.

"The difficulty in the great postal war was that most of Uncle William’s neighbors could neither read nor write; mail is after all a form of written communication. He made a first attack on the problem by calling at every mountain cabin; solemnly he urged each mountaineer to send off to both of the leading mail-order houses for their catalogues. If the son-in-law of the family had a different name, he asked the farmer to send it off twice. Whenever the necessity arose, which was often, he wrote the cards of request himself.

"This initial undertaking produced a considerable postal volume; each heavy catalogue that arrived was balm to Uncle William’s soul. His next move in the campaign was in the more complicated field of correspondence. The First World War had come upon the countryside; most of the young men were away in the Army.

William and Sally Creech about 1900.

"Uncle William made the rounds of the cabins again, urging mothers to write to their sons and daughters to their sweethearts. Here again the lack of formal learning interfered with their desires. Once more Uncle William became the correspondent, writing long letters telling the news of the day. When the answers came, scrawled by some soldier friend of the absent one, he would journey to the cabin and read it aloud to the whole family.

"So effective were his efforts that even the postal authorities in charge of the district were impressed by the quantity of mail that was arriving. At last they decided the business was enough to warrant opening the office.

"There are many Uncle Williams still in the Cumberlands; it is their presence which makes these hazy uplands unique. For they are the last outposts of a vanished world."

Children of Noah: Glimpses of Unknown America
By Ben Lucien Burman
Publ. by Julian Messner, Inc. 1951



William+Creech Pine+Mountain+KY post+offices+of+Appalachia appalachia appalachia+history appalachian+mountains+history

Monday, Nov. 23, 1942---

"The begetter of Barney Google and Snuffy Smith died last week in Manhattan.

"In many ways Billy De Beck lived a life as unreal as the comic-strip characters he fathered. When he was at high school in Chicago he drew imitation Charles Dana Gibson pictures, peddled them for profit. He did cartoons for a theatrical weekly and for several newspapers. But he stayed poor until he turned out a correspondence course on 'How to be a cartoonist and make big money.' He sold thousands of copies for $1 apiece.

"He was doing a so-so successful strip, "Married Life," for the Chicago Herald at $35 a week when King Features hired him in 1919. Result: Barney Google. Before he died last week at 52 after a year's illness. William Morgan De Beck had a 14-room Florida house, a Manhattan Riverside Drive apartment where, once, he threw dollar bills to kids from the window until he was stopped by police.

"Knee-high, banjo-eyed, potato-nosed Barney Google and his wonder nag, Spark Plug, were to U.S. kids in the '20s what Superman is today. Barney Google ('and his goo-goo-googly eyes') was a 1923 song hit that sold more than a million copies.

"Three Barney Google musicomedies toured the U.S. for two years; a toy manufacturer sold $1,000,000 worth of Google and Spark Plug toys and dolls; many a Google catchphrase entered the language ('Horsefeathers!' 'Heebie-jeebies'; 'Jeepers Creepers!' 'Youse Is A Viper'; 'Bust Mah Britches!' 'Times a wastin!'). In the mid '30s De Beck abandoned Spark Plug, subordinated Barney, brought bodacious Hillbilly Snuffy Smith (also a slangy shorty) to the fore.

"Because of De Beck's illness, an understudy [ed. – Fred Lasswell] has been drawing the strip for months. Just as Andy Gump survived Sidney Smith's death (in 1935), Snuffy and Barney will survive De Beck's."

TIME magazine
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,773938,00.html

related post: "Mammy Yokum, Pappy Yokum, and Fearless Fosdick"


appalachia appalachia+history appalachian+culture appalachian+mountains+history Billy+De+Beck Snuffy+Smith

Was Charged With Killing John Stinson on Laurel Creek Sunday, June 30th

November 22, 1935 --

The jury returned a verdict of guilty late Wednesday afternoon and fixed Ed Nelson's punishment at twenty years in the Virginia penitentiary. Two full days were consumed in Judge Buchanan's Circuit Court this week in the trial of Ed Nelson for the murder of John Stinson, on Laurel Creek on June 30th. A large array of witnesses were present, many of whom were present at the killing.

Character witnesses to support the testimony of the witnesses for the Commonwealth were also introduced. According to H. H. Johnson, of Richlands, two car loads and one truck load of people left Richlands on the Sunday of the murder, to spend the day with relatives of Johnson and the Stinsons. Johnson was leading the procession and when he reached a point near the residence of Wm. Vandyke, just over the brow of a hill, he discovered that the road was blocked by a Ford car.

He requested that the road be cleared, and violent objection to moving the car was raised by Ed Nelson, according to Mr. Johnson, who stated that Nelson threatened to shoot any who tried to move the car. Johnson's statement was emphatically denied by other witnesses. Johnson also stated that Ed Nelson came down the road from the Vandyke yard, pushing a pistol in the stomach of Doc Stinson, father of the man who was killed, and turned loose a volume of profanity.

At this point in the proceedings, according to Johnson, Doc Stinson's son, John Stinson, came up behind Nelson and struck him on the side of the head, whereupon Nelson is said to have turned and shot John Stinson, both he and Stinson falling into a creek, on the edge of which the difficulty having occurred. Other witnesses stated that both Stinsons seized Nelson, that the shooting didn't occur until they had reached the creek bed in the shuffle, and that Nelson shot in self defense.

There was evidence introduced to show that Nelson and other associates were drunk. Nelson is alleged to have run, according to Mr. Johnson, from the scene of the crime. Commonwealth's Attorney Jos. S. Gillespie was assisted in the prosecution by Commonwealth's Attorney Fuller, of Russell, Bruce Johnson, and son H. H. Johnson, of Richlands. R.O. Crockett represented Nelson.

Clinch Valley News Folder
Tazewell County, Virginia

source: www.rootsweb.com/~vatazewe/CVN/1935.htm

related post: "One of the oldest Confederate Veterans"


Tazewell+County+VA crime+in+Appalachia appalachia appalachia+history appalachian+mountains+history

Now git on out of here and go have some turkey. We're closed today!

"In my younger days, during the 1920s, work was very good, and I would see men at the commissary company store, flipping gold and silver coins in the air and catching them as they fell. Shopping at the company store was an event. We all had our favorite clerk and would stand in line to have him wait on us. I recall Mr. Norman, the store manager; Mr. Bartlett; Mr. Ross, and a Mr. Meadows. Potatoes and pinto beans were the big sellers for a long time.

"Beans came loose and were ordered by the pound. I will never forget when a clerk was scooping up beans from the large bin under the counter, and he threw a scoop of them in the floor under the counter. Come to find out someone had forgotten to close the lid at closing time, and the cat found a new litter box. Bread came unwrapped; eggs loose; and if you wanted meat, Mr. Bartlett, the butcher, cut it on order for you.

"One of the officials of the company, every Christmas, would give dimes to all the kids who came by, which was all of us. That dime went a long way. Christmas was a good time for all of us. At the commissary the large show window would be converted into a toy wonderland. The window would be covered until the day after Thanksgiving. We would all try to be there at 9:00 a. m.

"Thanksgiving and Christmas were our favorite days. The turkey and ham dinners were the best foods I ever knew. The turkey would be purchased live and dressed out the day before. I will always remember the wonderful smell of the dressing cooking. I don't think anyone makes this dressing, also called stuffing, anymore.

"No one I knew had electric Christmas lights back then. A few people would put a red bulb in a homemade wreath and hang it in the window. Christmas trees were mostly decorated with homemade decorations. Trees were cut live in the hills, and we would be looking for a nice one long before we needed it. We all got toys, but not as many as children get today. For Christmas we also got lots of candy and fruit. Sometimes we also got sick from so many goodies."

Curtis R. Pfaff
b. 1921
Allais, KY

source: http://kentuckyexplorer.com/nonmembers/3-remem.html


Allais+KY thanksgiving+in+appalachia appalachian+food appalachian+culture +appalachian+history

"Butchering conjures up the image of a country diet laden with generous servings of ham, shoulder, tenderloin, bacon, sausage and spareribs. The restocking of our primary source of hog meat began every spring with the selection of four shoats. Their pre-slaughter fattening schedule coincided with cutting and shucking corn, hand-husking ears of golden grain, and storing each day’s harvest in the crib. Much of this bounty was used in a two-month feeding regimen designed to induce rapid weight gain and, in turn, soften the fat properly for rendering into lard.

"Hog slaughtering was a festive time that required a late fall day of well-coordinated activities, and instilled a sense of espirit de corps. A willingness throughout the neighborhood to pitch in and help each other lifted the load of this annual ritual. Farmers were freer to do so because their field work was winding down. The various tasks also needed many eager hands racing against shorter daylight hours.


"My favorite butchering by-product is ponhaus, a term familiar to those with a German ancestry. Scrapple is the name for the same preparation made and sold commercially. The flavoring comes from starting with the “liquor” or broth remaining after the meat destined for puddin’ has been cooked. Miss Hattie, our next door neighbor, added corn meal to this stock and a small quantity of flour for thickening.

"The mixture needed constant stirring by a specially made all-iron rod to which was attached a semicircular blade. The end of this implement was designed to scrape along the bottom of the kettle and prevent the bubbling contents from sticking. Mama insisted only Miss Hattie could be entrusted with tending the fire, seasoning and determining when the blend was sufficiently cooked. If the puddin’ meat was handy, she most likely added some for extra flavor. A well-deserved reputation for turning out tasty ponhaus followed her everywhere.

"Grandma Ambrose scooped the hot preparation out of the kettle with a large sauce pan and ladled the thickened mass into a series of rectangular bread pans. The contents cooled in these molds and solidified overnight. The family enjoyed many a hearty breakfast from slices cut about the thickness of a piece of bread and then lightly fried to a toast brown on either side."

Kenneth A. Tabler
b. 1926
Martinsburg, WV
"The Day is Far Spent" (Montani Publ, 2006)


hog+butchering+day ponhaus puddin'+meat scrapple appalachia appalachian+diet appalachian+culture

Future champion college basketball coach Sonny Smith was born November 15, 1936 in Roan Mountain, Tennessee, the son of a mill worker and a cafeteria employee at the local schools. His hometown, he said years later, wasn’t the end of the world---but that you could see it from there. He said there were so many shotgun weddings performed in Roan Mountain that the local church was dubbed "Winchester Cathedral."

Smith rose to college basketball prominence by turning around losing programs at East Tennessee State University, Auburn University, and Virginia Commonwealth University during his 22 years of coaching leadership.

Smith spent his first 11 years after graduating from Tennessee’s Milligan College playing semi-pro basketball and coaching in the high school ranks. As a high school coach in Virginia, North Carolina, Indiana and Kentucky, Smith began to make his contacts to move into the collegiate game. The legendary Vic Bubas helped Sonny land his first collegiate assistant coaching job at William & Mary in 1969. He stayed with the Tribe for a year, moved to Pepperdine for another year, and finally in 1971 landed as assistant coach to Virginia Tech’s Don DeVoe.

Smith was DeVoe's right hand man until 1976, during which time the Hokies never had a losing record. Tech captured the NIT Championship in 1973 and earned a NCAA Tournament berth in 1976.

In 1976 Smith landed his first head coaching job at East Tennessee State, a college in dire need of a winning streak. After a 12-14 record during his inaugural season in 1976-77, Smith guided the program to an 18-9 mark, and the Buccaneers were the Ohio Valley Conference co-champions the next season. Smith won his first of four conference Coach-of-the-Year honors, while establishing himself as an upcoming young coach on the national level.

Sonny Smith is best remembered for his coaching years at Auburn University, where he was named Southeastern Conference Coach of the Year in 1984 and 1989. He was the first coach in Auburn history to have a twenty win season, and the only coach in Auburn history to date to have three consecutive twenty win seasons ('84-'86). In 1985, he coached the Auburn Tigers to their first SEC Tournament Championship in school history.

Smith was a tough disciplinarian who coached Charles Barkley, Chuck Person, and Chris Morris into NBA stars in his three decades of coaching. On January 3, 2007, he was inducted into the Alabama Sports Hall of Fame.

A basketball yarn from Sonny Smith: "There was an Kentucky fan, an Alabama fan, and a Tennessee fan that went to Saudi Arabia and got in trouble for gambling. They were arrested and each given 20 lashes as their punishment.

"Each fan was given one wish before his punishment was administered. The Kentucky fan went first. His wish that was a pillow be strapped to his back to soften the blows. After seeing how much pain the Kentucky fan endured even with the pillow, the Alabama fan’s wish was that he have two pillows strapped to his back while he was flogged.

"Finally, it was time for the Tennessee fan’s punishment. Because the person who was administering the blows had heard of the Big Orange, he granted the UT fan two wishes instead of the customary one. So, the Tennessee fan’s first wish was that he be given 200 lashes, rather than just 20.

"The Saudi was perplexed. He couldn’t figure out why someone who wish to endure such pain. He then asked,

"'What’s your second wish?' To which the Tennessee fan replied, 'Strap that Alabama fan on my back!'"


sources: www.ashof.org
www.sportsstarsusa.com/php/featuredartist.php?id=606&name=sonny+smith
community.foxsports.com/blogs/MrVolunteer/2006/02/19/SONNY_SMITH_BRUCE_PEARL_SWAP_BASKETBALL_WAR_STORIES_AT_BIG_ORANGE_TIPOFF_CLUB_IN_KNOXVILLE


Sonny+Smith Roan+Mountain+TN sports+in+Appalachia appalachia +appalachian+history