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4/30/07

FDR tiptoes around the lynching issue

The movement to put anti-lynching legislation in place gained new momentum with the election of Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1932. The president's wife Eleanor had been a long-time opponent of lynching. During that year, lynchings had decreased to a new low of ten incidents and during the entire decade "only" 88 blacks were lynched.

 1936 lynching of Lint Shaw in Royston, Georgia
Appalachia, though hardly immune to race hatred, was not cursed with the higher number of lynchings to be found in the Plantation South. W. Fitzhugh Brundage, of the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, explains:


“Only a small portion of Appalachia, specifically the area along the borders within the foothills, was devoted to monocultural agriculture with all of its attendant evils, including lynching. In rough proportion to the degree that a particular region diverged from the plantation South, the likelihood of habitual mob violence in that region shrank. Of course, neither the pursuit of economic justice nor the rejection of violence lay behind the absence of violence in agricultural labor relations in Appalachia.

Mountain landlords simply devised a system of labor that was exploitative, stable and lucrative but that did not rest upon the steady application of coercive methods. They showed little interest in mimicking their low country counterparts, who assumed the prerogative to regulate violently all aspects of black life.

Thus, the enduring stimuli for lynching that were so abundant in the plantation districts of the South were largely absent from rural Appalachia. The point is that although the color line was etched into the day-to-day reality of race relations in Appalachia during the twentieth century, few whites believed that the the upheavals of the late nineteenth century required them to defend violently and habitually their property, livelihood, rights, or status from a black threat.”

‘Appalachians and Race: The Mountain South from Slavery to Segregation’ Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2001. John Inscoe, ed.

In 1935, members of Congress proposed a new bill, The Costigan-Wagner Act, which attacked one of the main aspects of lynching. The legislation proposed federal trials for any law enforcement officers who failed to exercise their responsibilities during a lynching incident.

Roosevelt refused to speak out in favor of the bill. He argued that the white voters in the South would never forgive him if he supported the bill and he would therefore lose the next election. The Costian-Wagner Act received support from many members of Congress but the Southern opposition managed to defeat it (Sen Richard Russell, GA, filibustered with 6 days of non-stop talking!)

Again, the bill was defeated despite overwhelming public support. A national poll taken in 1937 that “found 65 per cent of all southerners supported legislation that would have made lynching a federal crime” (Tolnay and Beck, p. 202.) However, the national debate that took place over the issue helped to bring fresh attention to eliminating the crime of lynching.


sources:
Tolnay, Stewart E. and Beck, E.M. (1995) "Festival of Violence" Chicago, IL: University of Illinois Press
http://www.crimelibrary.com/notorious_murders/mass/lynching/bibli_6.html
http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/USAcostiganwagner.htm


4/27/07

Now I've got my Tailypo!


Back in the hollers lived an old woodsman in a one-room cabin with his three dogs. After a day of hunting, the old man finds only a small rabbit to feed himself and his three dogs. Still hungry, the old woodsman begins to doze off. Just as he is about to fall asleep, the awfulest critter he ever did see in his life creeps through a crack between the logs in the wall. The old man cuts off the creature's long tail, cooks and eats it, and goes to bed with a full stomach.

He is awakened several times throughout the night when the strange creature comes looking for its tail. Finally, the furry creature sneaks into the old man's bed, and tears the man all to pieces. Nothing remains of the old man's house except the chimney. At night, when the moon shines and the wind blows, you can hear a voice say: 'Tailypo, tailypo, now I've got my tailypo.'

--- Appalachian children's folktale

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4/26/07

The place I was raised up

“[The farm was] wedged in . . . there's a branch . . . a big branch come down, and it's clean up on both sides of the hollow. That was just a holler, see. And a hillside. It run up on each side of the hill. I believe it was about a hundred and sixty acres. It was woodland, and . . . and [Daddy] owned another farm. I guess it was, maybe, a hundred. He owned about three hundred acres in both. They joined. He didn't do much to one of 'em. The one farm that he didn't work much was mostly in timber. And he pastured it. He'd get a little hay off of the back. Growing mostly on the place I was raised up.

“My daddy, he . . . people back then didn't have nothing to cut hay with, only just an old mowing blade. He had a cow or two, milked, and had hogs. Killed his own hogs, and then raised enough corn on that farm to feed 'em. But he'd . . . he was poor . . . pretty poor, but we'd get by on it. And then ha-. . . raise corn and hay. Maybe had an old mule he'd farm with.

 An unidentified man is plowing a field using mules, 1937
“We raised [our food] mostly. Raised a big garden and we'd put it up. And he'd grow a cane patch and make molasses. And we had an orchard there. Put lots of apples and growed potatoes and dried beans and . . . put up was what people lived on back then. [We’d sell] maybe a calf or a cow every once in awhile. And maybe some pigs. We had our own chickens, and we didn't have to buy much. Didn't grow tobacco back then. Daddy, he made . . . made whiskey, too, back then. Moonshine. And he'd . . . he'd sell that to raise a family. Just enough to get by on.

“He used to ha-. . . everybody used to . . . down in here used to make whiskey. When I was a . . . I hunted when I was smaller. Had a little dog, and I'd go out hunt and . . . and I'd run into . . . used to, plenty of stills, just out a hunting.”

Interview with Elmer McKinney, June 11th, 1991
Family Farm Oral History Project
University of Kentucky
Steve Mooney; Interviewer


4/25/07

Six men to a room

Men in room at Mrs. Jones's boardinghouse
“Men in room at Mrs. Jones's boardinghouse. Six men live in this room. Three beds, pay eight to ten dollars a week rent. Most of them have families they left behind in Bluefield, West Virginia; Bristol, Tennessee; or High Point, North Carolina. They are carpenters, carpenters' assistants, riggers and laborers. They make sixty cents to one dollar and twenty-five cents per hour.”

Photographer John Vashon's photo caption
Radford, Virginia, December 1940.

4/24/07

The poor third class have fallen behind

FDR’s government found itself in the business of real estate development during the early New Deal years. In 1933 Eleanor Roosevelt came to Scotts Run, WV to assess what she might do to improve living conditions of out-of-work miners and enable them to become self-sufficient. Two months later, The Resettlement Administration, Division of Subsistence Homesteads purchased the Arthur family farm in Preston County, and the first of the nation’s “stranded communities” projects was born.

The homes were built to three basic patterns and each one had its own land for gardens, with outbuildings and a root cellar. Arthurdale survives in remarkably good condition. A number of houses are still lived in by the families for whom they were built. Based on the success of Arthurdale, WV, over 100 such communities were developed across the country.

The Tygart Valley Homesteads at Valley Bend, WV and Dailey, WV were built in 1934-35 for workers likewise laid off from local mining and lumbering jobs. In Dailey there are several New Deal-era structures, including craft buildings and the stone trade center building, which was the community center for the homestead’s 160 or so homes. The lumber mill was constructed by the government and operated by the Kenoweth Corporation, to provide jobs for those living in the homestead dwellings.

Library of Congress Prints & Photographs Division / Farm Security Administration - Office of War Information Photograph Collection The Homestead School built for the project is still in service as the elementary school for the area between Beverly and Mill Creek. Some of the homes can be seen on the west side of the road across from the community buildings. The largest concentration is at Valley Bend, on the east side of the Pike.

Two other Appalachian projects listed in the same “stranded communities” category as Arthurdale and Tygart were Cumberland Homesteads at Crossville, TN and Red House at Red House, WV.

The first class passengers all sit still,
Second class passengers walk up the hill,
But the poor third class have fallen behind.
They push like the devil on the Coal and Coke Line.

"The Coal and Coke Line"
sung by Addison Boserman,
recorded at Tygart Valley Homesteads
April 1939


Sources: http://tinyurl.com/2ycto8
http://tinyurl.com/yt2rf2


4/23/07

Appalachian clog dancing

Clogging is an expressive style of American dance with origins in the folk dances of the British Isles, Africa, and pre-Columbian America. Settlers in the American South took elements of these styles to form a unique American dance style, Appalachian clog dancing.

The Soco Gap Cloggers
Though the eighteenth-century Scottish and Irish settlers brought with them the clog, a step dance characterized by a very erect upper body, the additional influences of the traditional dance of Native Americans with its toe-heel, toe-heel movement and African American buck dancing, in which the arms hang loosely at the dancer's sides, made for a distinctly American style. The basic clogging and buckdancing step consists of a double toe shuffle, where the dancer brushes forward the toe and then the heel of the free foot, shifts his or her weight to that foot, then rocks onto the other foot, before stepping back onto the foot that had originally been free. The leg is generally raised a little more than six inches off the ground in clogging, while the feet stay close to the ground in traditional buckdancing.

Team clogging, coupled dancers executing individual step dances together in group configurations, is a relatively new composite dance form that began in the 1920s in western North Carolina. In was initiated when The Smokey Mountain Dancers first performed at the Bascom Lamar Lunsford Festival in 1927 in Asheville. By 1938, team clogging had its own competition at the Lunsford Festival, and it was won by the well known Soco Gap Dancers from the Maggie Valley area.

They performed freestyle buck dance steps continuously while doing mountain style square dance figures called by one of the dancers. In freestyle (or traditional) clogging, the dancers perform spontaneous footwork, which allows them to improvise while moving about the dance floor in time to live music provided usually by string bands. Team clogging won more widespread respect and recognition when the Soco Gap Team performed at the White House in 1939 for an audience including the Queen of England. Queen Elizabeth was said to have remarked "that's just like our clogging."

sources: www.doubletoe.com/About.htm
http://tennesseeencyclopedia.net/imagegallery.php?EntryID=D002
http://canecreekcloggers.org/backintime.html


4/19/07

Shenandoah Valley Apple Blossom Festival time

Apple tree in full blossom during festival
This year marks the 80th anniversary of the Shenandoah Valley Apple Blossom Festival, one of the oldest civic celebrations in Virginia. During the 1930s interest in the Apple Blossom Festival was declining and profits were in the red. A decision had to be made whether to continue the Festival or drop it completely. The turning point came in 1938, when Mr. Tom Baldridge was appointed Executive Director of the Festival.

Baldridge, born 1909 in Jackson, Tn., had come to Winchester, Va. to manage the Capitol and Colonial theaters. At the same time, he also held a full-time job as a promoter for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, organizing promotional events and movie premieres on the East Coast. With his Hollywood connections, Baldridge was instrumental in bringing stars such as Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, and Lucille Ball to Winchester, and the festival has never looked back since.

“I’ve been in the celebrity business,” Baldridge told The Winchester Star in 1997. “Celebrities would thank me for the publicity, but I was just doing what my boss paid me to do. They thought I was being special to them, so I asked them to be a part of the festival. No one turned me down.”

Working with Baldridge was “an experience,” said Ginny Trenary, who worked at festival headquarters for 34 years before retiring in 1998.

“If you didn’t work with Mr. Baldridge, you really missed out,” she said.

Baldridge would work all night and through weekends for the festival “with maybe a catnap every now and then,” she said.

“It was nothing to have a meeting at 11 o’clock at night,” Dutton added.

Some late nights, a crack could be heard in the office, Trenary said. Baldridge was smacking himself to keep himself awake.

“That was a Mr. Baldridge thing,” she said.

Baldridge retired as executive director in 1968.


Source: http://tinyurl.com/38exzy


4/18/07

As far removed as it is possible to be

http://boundless.uoregon.edu/Ulmann2/image/2994718122002_U0500A.jpg<br />http://boundless.uoregon.edu/Ulmann2/image/6451618122002_U0315A.jpg<br />

“The population of this vast mountain region is divided into two distinct classes, as far removed in character and environment as it is possible for people to be. First, there are those who live in fertile valleys along the rivers and the railways, with the very best religious and educational advantages, and who are equal in intelligence and refinement to any people in America.

"[People of the second group] do not live in these favored valleys, but far back from the main lines of travel in small clearings by the watercourses, almost entirely removed from the outside world, with few advantages for learning and few opportunities for improvement. The extreme poor live ‘back of beyond,’ beyond the towering mountains, locked in narrow coves, without teachers, without physicians, without comforts and conveniences.”

Rev. Homer McMillan
"Unfinished Tasks of the Southern Presbyterian Church"
Richmond, VA, Presbyterian Committee of Publication, 1922



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4/17/07

We pause to mourn



In light of the horrific shootings yesterday at Virginia Tech, today's entry is suspended as we take a moment to pray for the victims' families and friends.

4/16/07

Finger Lickin Good

He was born in Indiana, not Appalachia, and for the first 39 years of his life he stumbled around from one job to the next: insurance salesman, steamboat ferry operator, gas lamp manufacturer, railroad man, even justice of the peace.

But in 1929 Harlan Sanders finally found his life’s calling. That was the year he moved to Corbin, Kentucky and opened a gas station along U.S. Route 25. When tourists and traveling salespeople asked Sanders where they could get something to eat nearby, he got the idea of opening a small restaurant next to the gas station. He invented what's called "home meal replacement" - selling complete meals to busy, time-strapped families. He called it, "Sunday Dinner, Seven Days a Week."

The restaurant had one table and six chairs and specialized in Southern cooking such as pan fried chicken, ham, vegetables, and biscuits. Sanders moved his establishment across the street to a bigger location, with room for 142 seats, a motel and a service station. He took an eight-week course in restaurant and hotel management from Cornell University to learn more about the business. Sanders' café had a homey atmosphere, with no menu, but good food. When restaurant critic Duncan Hines listed Sanders' place in Adventures in Good Eating in 1935, its fame increased.

The popular café impressed Governor Ruby Laffoon. That same year he made Sanders an honorary Kentucky colonel for his contribution to state cuisine. In 1937, Sanders tried to start a restaurant chain in Kentucky, but his attempt failed. Two years later, he opened another motel and restaurant in Asheville, North Carolina, but this too failed.
Sanders continued to alter his chicken recipe to get the seasonings just right. In 1939, he devised a method to cook chicken quickly because customers would not wait 45 minutes for a batch to be fried up in an iron pan. Sanders used a pressure cooker, a new invention at the time, to cook chicken in nine minutes. He found that chicken cooked in this manner turned out to be moist and flavorful. Over the next decade, he perfected his secret blend of 11 herbs and spices and the basic cooking technique that is still used today.

Sources: www.answers.com/topic/harland-sanders
www.kfc.com/about/colonel.asp
www.tvacres.com/admascots_colonel.htm



4/13/07

They earned their living at a neighboring hotel

Nearly every day my mother or my aunt took me "down the street," by which they meant downtown. Murphy's Five and Dime was usually on our itinerary. Another stop was the Corinne Shop, where the proprietor, Marie Hiltie, indulged me by calling me "Mrs. Jones" and pretending I was a grown-up.

On Saturday mornings my uncle would put me in the car and take me to Brown's Creek to feed sugar cubes to the mules that worked in the mines. But my happiest moments were spent in the Citizen's Drug. They would hoist me up to the soda fountain and let me mix my own fountain Coca-Colas with enough Coca-Cola syrup in each for a whole six pack of today's Coke.

Belle Brezing Photographic CollectionIn the afternoons when classes ended at Welch High School, the store would fill with noisy teens having Cokes and Nabs. My aunt's teacher friends would gather there, too, to visit and chat. To my child's eyes, far the most glamorous denizens were several women who used to drift in for a Coke around mid-afternoon some days. They had flawless, heavily powdered complexions and brilliantly colored lipstick and nail polish. Much later I learned how they earned their living at a neighboring hotel.

Sammie Wade,
Memories of Welch [WV], interviewed by Betty Dotson Lewis

http://appalachiacoal.com/welch1.htm


4/12/07

We have set our names upon your waters

“The French Broad is a river and a watershed and a way of life where day-before-yesterday and day-after-tomorrow exist in odd and fascinating harmony. Beneath the deepest waters impounded by Douglas Dam lies buried the largest untouched Indian mound of the French Broad country. Our most ancient relic of man and our most recent trophy of his scientific skill rest practically side by side.

“There is the same coexistence of past and present within the people. It helps explain how they may be at once so maddening and so charming, wrong about so many things and yet fundamentally right so often. This living past and present is my story of the French Broad. I should like to think that by some unmerited but longed-for magic I have spoken for a few of the anonymous dead along its banks and up its mountains. For the Negro baby drowned in the river when its mother tried to swim from slavery and bring it into freedom. For the sheriff who was shot in the back from a laurel-thicket ambush as he picked his way along a fog-blanketed early-morning trail. For the minister in a windowless log church who made foot washing a symbolic ceremony of humbleness and brotherhood.


“For the old taletellers around country stores and the urbane newcomers who seek but have not found as yet. For these and for the river itself, mountains, lowlands, woods, gullies, springs and ponds and brooks I should like to speak, to quicken understanding. For the French Broad is above all a live country. The Cherokees said, ‘We have set our names upon your waters and you cannot wash them out.’ They were right - the Nolichucky and the Swannanoa and the Estatoe - but they might also have said, for all of us, ‘We have lived our lives along your rivers and you cannot wash the memory of us out.’ ”


Excerpt from The French Broad
(Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1955; now published by Wakestone Books)


Author Wilma Dykeman (1920-2006) launched her career as a Tennessee historian with the publication of The French Broad, one of the famous "Rivers of America" series. The book was completed in a year but represents a lifetime of observation and note-taking. It recounts the history, legend, biography, sociology, and economics of a mountain region that draws its life and ways from this stream and its tributaries.



4/11/07

All our folks was farmers

http://www.agr.state.nc.us/stats/history/scrapbk4.htm
Mrs. Riddle raises and sells vegetables, and keeps bees, but the real business of the family is raising beef cattle. Jim rents 120 acres from the Middletons and pays them a flat sum of $300 a year for the house and lot and the farm land. Jane seems to think this a profitable bargain and, while noncommital about gains, intimates they are prospering. They have 25 full-blooded Herefords, several full-blooded Jerseys, and other cattle of mixed breed. Those lying in the shade of the trees adjoining the lot looked rather gaunt. There were no stalls for them. Evidently they sleep in the grove.

Part of the land is wooded, part is pasturage, and about half of it is arable bottom land, already green with springing grain. They also raise corn, peas, beans, and hay, and although Jim, 55 years old, is small and thin, and does not appear to have much strength, he can plow all day without excessive fatigue.

"All our folks was farmers," said Mrs. Riddle, "back up in the mountains. No, I don't know when they settled there, or where they come from. Jim's people and my people lived in the same cove. I've known him all my life. His brothers and my brothers all farm. Most of 'em are back up there where we come from. I've got one married sister living in Fielding."

"Did you and Jim go to school?"

"Yes & I finished the school - went through the seventh grade - but Jim dropped out. They was only one teacher - it was a little log school - and we didn't have grades like they got now, but they told me I went through the seventh grade. I don't know how far Jim got - he's older'n me, and dropped out before I started."

Jim owns 102 acres of land back in the mountains, but, "It's so steep," he said, "it ain't fit for farmin'." He raises apples on this land, and pastures cattle on the hillsides. He tried renting the place, "But the tenants," Jane put in, "let the cows get into the orchard and break limbs offen the apple trees. They run down the property, so we just locked up the house and let it stand."

"We've lived here about three year," Jim added, "but we ain't brought our best things here. We sort of feel like we're camping out."

Anne Winn Stevens interviews Jane & Jim Riddle
for the Federal Writer’s Project 1936-1940
March 27, 1939 in Fletcher, NC

source: http://tinyurl.com/2nnfz3




4/10/07

You had to work. It was hard work.

"You had to work. It was hard work. From the time we was five years old we worked in the corn fields. From the time you was able to count to three you started working. Every day. Except Sundays. My dad didn’t believe in working on Sundays. It was raising corn, wheat, and potatoes, and a big garden. It was all strawberries. Anything you could raise, we raised it. Tobacco, we raised tobacco.

"Where did I go to school? West Virginia, Pleasant Valley. Forest Home. One room. With a pot-bellied stove in it. We carried wood to keep the fire going. It was fun. It really was. Because, the teacher - we had from the first grade to the eighth grade, and from then on you went into town. You was bussed into town. But we walked to school. We walked a mile and a half to school. We didn’t have no busses. The kids walked then. The teachers was good. I had two men teachers in my lifetime and one woman. What I remember most about them is, I don’t know, getting the switch used on you. The punishment was a hickory switch or the razor strap.

http://spec.lib.vt.edu/imagebase/palmer/full/ep550.jpeg
"We had reading, arithmetic, geography, and history, and writing, and spelling. It wasn’t like it is today. They have different subjects I think today, don’t they? Or is it everyday? Now we had it every day. I run off one time. I run from my dad one time. I never did that no more, never. And you know I can’t remember ever getting into real bad trouble. The way we had to work and go to school. We didn’t have time."

Pauline Riley, Pomeroy, Ohio

Source: http://home.frognet.net/~cntdown/OralHistoryPages/PaulineRiley.htm


4/9/07

As meat loves salt, a folktale

A king is curious to know which of his daughters loves him the most, so he asks them. The first two claim to love him more than anything else, but the youngest simply says, "as meat loves salt." The king is so angered but what he thinks is her flippancy that he banishes her.

She packs up her three prettiest dresses, hides them in a marsh, makes herself a dress and cap of rushes, and travels around to find work. After working as a kitchen maid for awhile in the house of a rich man, the rich man throws a series of parties for his son. The youngest princess / kitchen maid dresses up in her dresses and attends the gala each of the three nights, and the master’s son falls in love with her.http://albumen.stanford.edu/library/monographs/masters/fiche-1-d6.jpg

After searching in vain to find her, he begins to pine away for her. She makes him soup and drops the ring he gave her into the soup, which is delivered by the First Cook, who hopes to take credit for the soup. The master’s son recognizes the ring and vows to marry the woman who made the soup, who then reveals that she is the princess.

At the wedding feast, the bride instructs that her father be served meat without salt, thus revealing her identity to her father as she explains what she meant when she told him she loved him “as meat loves salt” – i.e. that he was and is the spice of her life.

---Appalachian folktale “As Meat Loves Salt,” based on similar English & Greek folktales


4/5/07

Down in Beulah Land

"I lived down in Beulah Land, and times were hard on black people back then," said John Easter. "A lot of times we had to quit school to chop cotton while the white man's children kept going. It hurts me to talk about it, but I tell people bygones should be bygones."

Easter was born Aug. 7, 1914, in the Limestone (AL) County community of Coxey near the Elk River, but spent most of his life close to Tanner. He recalls that they could hardly get through the dirt roads, because the wagons would mire down and get stuck in the mud.

He attended a country school through the sixth grade, and then the closest school for upper grades was in Athens. "I didn't have no way of going and no place to stay." Some students boarded, and some lived close enough to walk, but he didn't have any money to pay the tuition.
The Decatur Daily, Sept 10, 2004From his cotton-chopping days, he recalls that the field workers "couldn't get nothing unless you went to the white boss man; you couldn't see a doctor unless the boss man said you could."

He chopped cotton many days for 50 cents a day. "Now it's gone to $50 a day, and stuff's high now. Back then nothing was that high; you could get a cold drink for a nickel."

Bologna sausage used to come in a waxed paper bag, and there were no refrigerators, he said. "You'd buy a nickel's worth of bologna and they'd give you the crackers and a 'big lunch cake' that had five small cakes in chocolate and vanilla flavors." The soft drink — a strong Double Cola — was another nickel.

He and other country boys played on baseball teams; his was the Beulah Land team. While they couldn't play baseball with whites, they did play a little unofficial basketball together.

In the 1930s, when he had a break between chopping cotton and picking cotton, he'd head to Evansville, Ind., or Louisville, Ky.

"They'd hire Alabama boys when they saw them coming down the street, because they knew they'd work hard," Easter said.

interviewed in The Decatur Daily
Sept 10, 2004
http://tinyurl.com/2k7cpz

4/4/07

Riding the Rails

"From 'middle class gentility to scrabble-ass poor,' the undiscriminating Great Depression forced 4,000,000 Americans away from their homes and onto the tracks in search of food and lodging. Of this number, a disturbing 250,000 of the transients were children. Some left home because they felt they were a burden to their families; some fled homes shattered by the shame of unemployment and poverty. Some left because it seemed a great adventure. With the blessing of parents or as runaways, they hit the road and went in search of a better life.

"Public perceptions of the road kids differed. There were people who saw the American pioneer spirit embodied in the young wanderers. There were others who feared them as the vanguard of an American rabble potentially as dangerous as the young Fascists then on the march in Germany.

Boy hopping a freight train, 1940, by John Vachon
"For most of the young transients, riding the rails would not become a way of life. "After a while," Jim Mitchell remarks," you knew you had to get on with your life." Those who found steady work abandoned the trains. Mitchell and many other young men got jobs with the CCC. Most teens returned home, and for some, transition was difficult. Their time on the rails marked a coming of age, a turning point when they moved out of childhood and became aware of the world. Some became advocates for social change. For teen rail rider John Fawcett, raised in a middle-class family in West Virginia, his experiences during the Great Depression shaped his perceptions of the world, leading to his involvement in the labor and antiwar movements. But for many others, the pain, uncertainty, and loneliness of life on the road fostered in them a strong, but conservative, desire for steady employment and the security of home and family."


RIDING THE RAILS: Teenagers on the Move During the Great Depression (Routledge, New York, 2003)

4/3/07

The Harmonia Sacra

Go to Harrisonburg, Virginia and you’ll find them in just about any of the numerous old, old Mennonite churches in the area. They’re “Old Folks Singings,” an event unique to that religious group in that region. People filter in and out of the one-room churches, picnic in the church yard, rub tombstones if the church has a cemetery. And sing hymns. In some communities there is 100 per cent participation in the singing. Their songbook is and has been since 1832 The Harmonia Sacra. No other hymnal in the English language has had such a long lifespan of constant use in any Christian denomination. Indeed, many of the families of Harrisonburg have also been in the area since the mid-1800’s --- Buckwalters and Hosslers, Stutzmans and Brubakers.

The original Harmonia Sacra was a "four-shape" shape note book using the shapes and syllables "faw, sol, law, and mi." Joseph Funk designed A Compilation of Genuine Church Music for use in singing schools. It contained 208 pages, including rudiments of music and tunes harmonized for three voices. In the early 20th century the singing consisted primarily of German hymns; however, not the slow tunes used in the church services. The 17th edition of 1878 was the one widely in use during the Depression era.

Harmonia Sacra title page“The different musical grammar of these hymns makes them sound fresh, rugged, and often rough-hewn. As the layout suggests, this music is written as melodic parts, not in chords. Each line is an individual composition against the principal melody… In this style of hymnody each singer chooses any line which is comfortable, and then focuses on expressing that part, that personalized manifestation of the words. The parts do not necessarily form the identifiable and static chords which a modern congregation might encounter together in an improvised harmonization.”
---Review of The Harmonia Sacra, 25th ed.
Bradley Lehman, 1995 for Mennonite Quarterly Review

Sources: http://www.sci.edu/classes/ellertsen/harplinks.html
http://www.mcusa-archives.org/MennObits/40/jul1940.html
http://www.mcusa-archives.org/MennObits/43/oct1943.html
http://www.gameo.org/?content=encyclopedia/contents/S5676ME.html&breakout=yes
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harmonia_Sacra
http://www-personal.umich.edu/~bpl/hsreview.html
http://www.blueridge.net/~larryb/larryxh.html


4/2/07

You never seen so many eggs in your life as I had

Easter Egg b&w illustration
At Easter, kids would hide eggs. Go around to hen nests and get a egg or two every day and hide them so you'd have some for Easter. Well, Papa had about twelve or fourteen old Rhode Island Red hens. And Papa said, “I know good and well them hens ain't laying.” Well, I'd go around every evening late before Mama and them would come home from work. And I'd steal me two or three eggs. And we had an old barn with a big old loft to it, and he had it full of hay.

Well, I'd steal two or three eggs every day and I'd carry them up to the loft and hide them up under that hay. Well, Easter come and Mama said, “Well, I don't know what I'm going to do.” Said, “I ain't got too many eggs for Easter.” I said, “I got some, Mama.” She said, “How'd you get any eggs?” I said, “I hid me some.” Said, “Well, go get them.”

And I went down there and got to pulling in that hay, and she had a little old basket—it was about that big around and about that high with a handle on it. I took that little old basket and went down there. I said, “I've got a few eggs.” When I got down there and got to pulling that hay back, I had that basket piled plumb full of eggs. You never seen so many eggs in your life as I had. And I carried them back home, and I thought I'd done something good, you know.

Papa got that old razor strop down, he said, “If you ever do anything like that again, I'll beat you good.” Said, “Me a-worrying about my hens and you hiding the eggs!” I said, “Well, I thought I was doing something good. I thought it would be good. And I was a-hiding…” “—not no more you won't!” He didn't see the humor in it.

Eula Durham (b. early 1900’s)
Bynum, NC


North Carolina new Oral History Interview with Eula and Vernon Durham, 1978 November 29. Interview H-64. Southern Oral History Program Collection (#4007)


source: http://tinyurl.com/2ook4a

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