Does anyone remember ordering packets of sewing notions from the back of Rickrack wrappers? My mother sewed for all the other neighbors around about. When the dresses were trimmed with rickrack she would give me the wrappers. They were such a treat. If one saved them they could be used to redeem a package of odds and ends of sewing notions. If I remember correctly, the wrappers were sent in with a dollar and in a few weeks a medium size manilla envelope would arrive. I waited with great anticipation and the 6 or 8 weeks it took for the package to arrive seemed like an eternity .When it came I could hardly wait to open it! There would be pieces of lace, pretty buttons and other kinds of trim. I learned to sew on Mamma’s old treadle sewing machine when I was 6 years old. These pieces of trim would keep me occupied for days making my doll new clothing. These sure are good old memories!
The art of homemaking was passed down to me by my mother. It was never done in a way that made me feel like I was being forced. I watched ever thing mom did, I wanted to learn to do every thing she did. I don’t know how old I was when I began to sew doll clothes with a needle and thread by hand, however, I was making clumsy attempts to do so before I ever learned to use the sewing machine.
The first thing I sewed on the old treadle machine was a quilt top made of 6 inch square blocks. I can remember cutting them out by a cardboard square mom had measured and cut out for me. I began my seamstress education by sewing these blocks together. If you have never tried to sew on a treadle you have no idea how difficult it was to learn to give the wheel a forward whirl to get it going and start pressing the pedal in the correct direction in a coordinated manner. If you whirl the wheel forward and pedal backwards, it’s a mess. I don’t know how many timed I did this until I got pretty good at getting both going in the right direction! I don’t ever remember mom getting aggravated with showing me how again.
There was also the times I sewed right through the side of my finger trying to feed the cloth through! This was extremly painful. Once the needle sewed 3 stitches through and then broke off. The needle was sticking out both sides of ny index finger. Daddy had to pull it out with a pair of wire pliers. Did I get taken to the doctor? Of cource not! Back then it was cleaned, dabbed with a little mercuracrome, and wrapped with a clean cloth that was tied on, not taped. I was right back at it the next day.
I can remember sewing ( my feet would barely touch the pedal and me stretching ) until the back of my legs would get cramps, then I would cry. Mom would say ” get up and play awhile and let your legs rest and then you can come back and sew a little more, you can’t do it all at one time”. Whatever I tried to learn to do, she was always encouraging and patient. I finished sewing the full size quilt top together and gave it to Jewel as a wedding gift when she married Lynn.
Crocheting and Knitting were two other skills I learned from mom. I learned to crochet using long strips of cloth taken from old clothing that was ripped and then the ends tied together to make a continuous string. They were about 1/2 inch wide and were of all colors, some solid and some had patterns. Because it required a really big crochet hook and we didn’t have one, my dad whiddles one out of a piece of walnut wood, he sanded it down smooth and it was my pride and joy. I used it and the rags to crochet round rugs for the floor. I learned how to do a single stitch and how to increase to keep the work flat. After I got good enough at it , I graduated to ‘real’ yarn and made potholders. On these I learned to do double and triple stitches. I could crochet simple circles or squares by the time I was 10. By age 12 I was knitting scarves and toboggans for my brothers.
By the time I got married at age 18 I could follow a pattern and make my own clothes. I have made curtains and accessories for my home through the years, saving a lot of money and being able to decorate on a budget. I stopped making my clothes when the material got to be costlier than store bought and when I became a single, working mother with little leisure time. I still maintained a love for sewing and crafts and began to focus on smaller, more fun projects. This coalesced into cloth doll design and construction. Making clothing for them was still one of my pleasures.
I am retired now and finally have leisure time again. I have developed a new interest that includes my love for fabric crafts and for creative design. I have decided I would like to learn the art of millinery. That is the almost lost art of designing and creating ladies hats. I have a special interest in learning to make them using wire frame and buckram for a base, this covered with a variety of cloth and embellishments. I am currently looking for workshop opportunities in this area.
Mother was a wonderful mother. After all, I was the baby of ten and she took time to teach me these skills that have sustained my creative side all my life.
This week is the week of our annual bowling family reunion. It always brings back memories of times, places, and people who have long gone.
My dad was a great oral historian and story teller. I wish I had either recorded or written down all the stories he told with the names of those involved. There were funny stories, scary ones, ones about duplicity and getting even, ones about gun battles and feuds. I remember the stories but have mostly forgotten the old names of those involved.
One story I always remembered and enjoyed was about two men who were neighbors. One had a hog he wanted to fatten up. His neighbor already had a hog or two penned up in a log enclosure for fattening. Back then hogs were marked by the owner and ran free, feeding on the mast in the hills around about. Before they were butchered they would be penned up and fattened on corn and slop.
Anyway, the neighbor with the pen told the other neighbor there was no use building another pen, that he could put his hog in his pen and they would both take turns feeding them. When the hogs got ready to kill, the neighbor with the pen went out at night and had his boys prize up the log and enticed the neighbors hog with slop to stick its head through between the logs, then he let the log down choking the hog to death. Next, he got the hogs head out and went and told the neighbor the hog got sick and died. When the neighbor verified the hog was dead he was going to get rid of it because they would be afraid to eat a sick hog. The neighbor who killed the hog told him not to worry about getting rid of the hog that since it died in his pen he would do it. After the owner left, the man butchered the hog and thought he was real clever because he had tricked the neignbor out of his hog. Back then a hog could mean the difference between a family going hungry or not.
Now, some how the neighbor found out about the trickery. He bided his time. Since their property joined, he made himself a new deed which moved his property line over a few hundred feet and dated it to before his neighbor had bought his property. Back then deeds were just written on paper and dated. They were not recorded at the court house. Whenever there was a property dispute the case was decided by whoever had the oldest deed. He knew if his paper didn’t look older that he would not win his case so he put it up behind the cookstove and smoked it untill it looked really old. Next he took his neighbor to court over the strip of land. Because his deed was dated first and looked so old, he won the case and took his neighbors land, thus getting even for the stolen hog.
There is also another story about two of my ancestors on my Grandma Mary Jane Morgan’s side. This involved two of Mary Jane’s uncles. I don’t remember the names. Anyway, the two were brothers. They lived up on Camp Creek in Leslie County. One had a big corn field just about ready to harvest. The other was up in the mountains logging. The logger accidently let a log loose and it rolled down and destroyed the corn. They fell out over this and even though they lived by each other never again spoke to each other. They both lived for over 20 more years. When one brother got sick and knew he was dying, he made his family promise to bury him around the point so his brother wouldn’t be able to see his grave! And they did!
The Morgan’s are known to be a contrary bunch. My great grandpa morgan was known to get mad at his family and go to bed and wouldn’t get up. He had a big long beard. They said he would lay there and tie his beard in knots when he was upset. He lived to be up in his 80’s. He died after falling through a hole that had been cut out for a staircase on a house that his kin were working on down in Hyden. The house is still there today. Dad said he stepped backward and fell down to the floor below. He lived a couple of days and then died.
Oral tradition says that the first of my Morgan ancestors to come here came from North Carolina after killing a bunch of indians. The story is that some indians raped one of their sisters. The two brothers caught a bunch of indians sleeping in a barn. They bared the doors and set it on fire, burning them all. They had to leave because of this so they came to Kentucky, settling on Camp creek. I don’t know how much of this is true but almost all Morgan oral tradition has some version of a similar story so I guess there is a kernal of truth in this.
There were many stories about ’something’ stalking folks in the woods. Of course, back then there were bears and mountain lions which old timers called ‘panters’. Dad told about him, Lawton, and some others going coon hunting one night. Something started following them, it sounded big. They could hear it breaking twigs. It stayed just outside the light from their pine knots. They finally got so scared they built a big fire and stayed up all night keeping the fire burning to keep it at bay. Just before daylight it finally left. They never did know what it was but dad thought it must have been a bear.
Once grandpa Burhead was riding a horse up from Wendover. The road went around the mountain side. The road side was steep over the hill and up the mountain and there was a big laural thicked there. It was a mooneless night and it was pitch black. Something jumped out of the bushes and onto the back of his horse behind him. It stayed on the horse and he was half scared to death. Now, he had traded for a couple of chickens and had them tied across his saddle horn. He finally realized it was after the chickens so he cut them loose. When the chickens came off the saddle the thing on the back of his horse jumped off to. It was probably a ‘panter’ or a bobcat dad said.
There were hundreds of these stories told around the heating stove on cold winter evenings or on the front porch on cool summer nights. Who, what, when, and where? Daddy knew them all by name, keith, and kin. What a great shame that I didn’t realize their value until he was no longer here to tell them!
If you have every visited Leslie County, Ky. You will know that the term “farming” means something altogether different here than it does to flatlanders. Leslie County is one of the most rugged areas of southern Appalachia. The mountain slopes begin at the creek edge on both sides. If there is any bottom land at all it is beside the Middle fork river and a few of the bigger tributaries, one such being Cutshin Creek.Even then, the largest expanse is probably no wider that 40 or 50 yards and not much longer due to the twisting and turning of the waterways through the mountain terrain.The farther up the ‘holler’ one lives, the less chance of a flat place being anywhere! I was raised in the head of Big Branch off Coon Creek, off Cutshin Creek, which is off the Middle Fork River. The nearest think to a flat place would be a less steep slope that old timers called a “bench”. Our log house stood on just such a place.
Our farm consisted of a two stall barn with a hay loft where our one cow and one mule could shelter, a small corn crib, a hog lot for our a sow and pigs, and 20 or 30 free range chickens. All our out buildings were built from logs taken from our 100 acres of land. In order to feed 10 kids and all the farm animals dad worked as a carpenter while mom and the older boys tended the farm. We had a corn field and potato patch on the hill behind the house. On up the hollow were two gardens, the middle and upper gardens as we called them; then finally, a ‘new ground’ for more corn. Below the edge of the yard was a small garden for tomatoes, lettuce, and onions so it was handy to the house.
Just as soon as the first Easter flowers and Robins began to show up the gardening would begin. The old stalks, weeds, etc. had to be raked up and burned off. The smell of the spring burning was a harbinger of the hard work and good eating ahead. Did you know that this was a method of preparing the land that was brought over directly from Ireland by our ancestors?
Peas had to be planted in February or they wouldn’t do any good according to mom. Since it was usually to wet then to plow they had to be ‘dug in’. This meant one had to dig a hole for them with a hoe. If the ground was plowed while it was too wet the dirt would clot and ruin the soil. As soon as the March winds had dried the soil enough, plowing would begin.
Old Bob, our mule, would be caught by one of the boys and the gears put on. The old home made plow would be attached to the single bar, this in turn attached to the plowing harness buy straps and chains on each side of the mule.If the garden to be plowed was not close by, the mule would be hooked to the corn sled and the plow was hauled to the spot that way. Once there, it was then attached and Bob was ready to go whether the boys were or not! Old Bob was notably skittish, an unexpected shadow or rustle would startle him and he would bolt. There are many hilarious tales by my brothers but these will be saved for another time.
The fields and gardens were turned by plowing around the mountain side, turning at the end and plowing back. The plowing went back and forth, one furrow almost on top of the other. I always liked to watch the rich, brown earth as it turned belly up.The orange and black striped thousand legs, white grub worms, snail shells and other beetles and spiders disturbed in this were always interesting to observe, however, I was too big a chicken to pick up anything but an empty snail shell. Turning the land was sometimes an all day job. After all the soil was turned over the rows had to be ‘laid off’. The whole area would be plowed over again but this time rows were cut about 30 inches apart, just wide enough for a man to walk between the rows and hoe out the weeds or pick the crop without stepping on the next row.When the work was over, the mule was brought back to the barn and unharnessed. He would snort, toss his head and run around a little as if to celebrate that he could finally rest! The boys washed off, ate supper and grabbed the guitar or mandolin.
When the soil was ready the planting began. Dad and Mon planted according to the signs of the moon. They always had a farmer’s almanac calendar hanging on the wall. First in the ground was corn, beans and potatoes. Three grains of corn per hill, each hill about 14 to 16 inches apart down the length of the furrow. These dropped by hand by Mon, Dad or one of the boys. Someone else followed dropping a handful of fertilizer just a few inches above the corn kernels. Fertilizer directly on the kernels might burn them and they would die. The goal was to have it soak into the roots when they began to grow. A third person came behind with a hoe to cover up the corn and fertilizer with a mound of dirt. Field corn was grown for feeding the animals. Sweet corn was planted for eating by the family.
Often half runner green beans were planted along with the rows of sweet corn. The planting process was the same except two or three beans were dropped along with the corn kernels. The corn provided a stake for the vines to run upon. This kept the beans up off the ground to prevent rot. It also made them easier to pick.
At potato planting time daddy would by 3 or 4 sacks of seed potatoes from Jim Hensley’s store or Dan Bakers. Sometimes the boys would take Old Bob and the sled and go haul the seed potatoes in. I can remember a time or two that someone brought a jeep with feed and supplies up Big Branch, through the creek and meadow, a low lying swampy area, and then up a sled road to the house. We had no car road until daddy sold our timber when I was 9 years old. After the seed potatoes arrived they would be cut up into 3 or 4 pieces. Each piece had to have a good eye (sprout area). These cut pieces were toss into a round, #10 wash tub and hauled to the field. A water bucket or lard bucket was used to transfer them to the furrows. As with the corn, so the potatoes, two or three pieces to the hill, fertilizer and covered.
The dirt had to be raked up with a hoe into a flat topped, long mound for setting out onion sets. Mom would use a stick to poke holes in the top of the flat row about 4 inches apart, 5 or 6 holes across and then about 4 inches apart down the whole bed.I was allowed to help insert the little onions into the holes. She taught me to make sure the top end was up so it would grow correctly. Then, mom would use her hand to wiggle the soil over the holes to cover the onion sets.
Cabbage, bell peppers and tomato plants were planted in rows similar to the corn except these rows had to be mounded up also. A hoe handle was used to push a 6 inch deep hole into the mound 14 or 16 inches apart. The plants were set down in these holes. However, these being live plants also had to be watered good before the hole was closed up around the roots. Mom always planted stuff that needed watering in the upper garden because it was close to the creek. Water was carried from the creek to water the cabbage, pepper and tomato sets before the roots were covered. Sweet potato sets were planted in a similar way except the dirt was mounded and flattened at the top. The mound was at least a foot high and 18 inches across. These had to be at least 3 or 4 feet apart in all directions because the vines spread so far. Sweet potatoes needed sandy soil so had to be planted closest to the creek. Cucumbers, squash & cushaw all required flattened mounds wide apart as well. Mom would push the seed down about an inch deep, 5 or 6 to a hill. Mustard, lettuce and turnip green seeds were sprinkled on top of long, mounded rows like the onion rows. Green beans that were not planted with the sweet corn, such as greasy beans, were planted in rows just like the cornfield beans.
By the time the last crops were planted the peas, corn and potatoes would be about ready for the first hoeing. The boys would go to the field and gardens with mom while the girls stayed home to cook, clean house, wash clothing and iron. After eating a big breakfast of bacon or pork chops, eggs, biscuits & gravy, fried apples, fresh butter & milk, and good perked coffee they would be off. Keeping the weeds removed and the dirt loose around the roots for the best growth was almost a full time job. Hoeing had to be done every couple of weeks. There had to be stakes cut and set in place for the tomatoes and green beans to run on or they would rot on the ground. The suckers had to be broken off the tomato plants. A sucker was an ill placed stem which was removed so that the main stalk and healthy branches could get all the nutrients to produce fruit.
The new ground was always planted with field corn for fodder and grain for the animals. A new ground was an area chosen for a new field that had to be prepared for plowing. The trees had to be cut down. Back then it was done with a cross cut saw and double bit axes. A cross cut saw required to men to use it, one on each end. The teeth would be put against the bark of a large tree and then one man would pull it across, cutting into the bark, the man on the other end would do the same until little by little a cut was made. This was brute labor. Smaller saplings were chopped down with an axe. After the trees were down they had to be cut into manageable pieces. The logs would be trimmed and put to the side for fire wood or other uses. Nothing was wasted. Next, the left over brush had to be piled and burned. Tree roots had to be grubbed out and the rocks removed. This was done with picks, mattocks, crow bars for prying, etc. Dad was away of the day so this work was left to the boys. Vance and another man who dad had hired cleared this new ground when Vance was only 12 years old! Anyway, after everything was ready, it would be plowed. It took several seasons of plowing to get the soil of a new ground soft and loose but corn would grow there easily.
As the gardens and fields came in, all the produce had to be picked, prepared and put away for the winter. We had no electricity so everything had to be canned or dried. Sweet corn was pulled and brought to the house by the sled load. Mom and the girls would remove the shucks and silk then wash it. Next it was cut off the cob into a large aluminum dish pan. From there it was put into quart canning jars. After the lids were on Mom would set the jars down in a washtub and pack old rags between the jars to keep them from breaking. The fire would already be kindled between the two big rocks that the tub would set on. Water was put in to cover the jars and then the nearly full tub of jars was sat over the fire. Someone kept the fire fed and stoked all day so the jars would be boiled evenly for the proper amount of time.
This process was followed for each new crop. Only the preparation was different as dictated by the nature of the plant. Green beans were picked, strings removed and snapped into pieces. Tomatoes had to be dunked into a boiling water bath so the hull came of easily, then quartered or crushed through a strainer to make juice. Pickle brine and spices were mixed for cucumbers which were used either whole or sliced. Cabbage was cut off the core with a butcher knife then chopped very fine with the top of a tin can for Sauer kraut. Apples had to be peeled and cored for canning; cooked, pureed and spiced for apple sauce and apple butter.
Potatoes were dug and placed in a hole dug under the house. The hole was lined with straw and the potatoes were covered with straw and then boards for a makeshift root cellar. They would keep most of the winter and be retrieved as needed. They would keep this way nearly all winter. Onion heads were gathered and tied into bunches and hung on a nail in the canning room. This was a small room off the back of the house with shelves for storage. Cushaw and squash was gathered and stored there also.
Some of the green beans would not be canned. Instead they were left whole and dried. These were called shucky beans. These would be threaded on a long string and hung behind the cook stove to dry. Mom would thread a large sewing needle with strong twine and stick the needle through the side of a whole bean and then wrap a few loops of the twine around it for an end anchor. Then each bean would be pierced and threaded onto the twine as if making a necklace. This was one job I was big enough to help with. Other times, the broken beans or apple slices would be spread out on a sheet over pieces of tin supported by saw horses or chairs and left to dry all day in the hot sun. These had to be brought in before the sun set to prevent dew from spoiling them. The next day they were put out again as soon as the dew was melted off. This happened every day until they were dry enough to be put in the canning room in sealed containers.
The field corn was left standing until fall. The boys would gather the corn and haul it in the sled to the crib. Some of this corn would be shelled and taken to the mill in feed sacks to be ground into meal. The miller usually kept a portion of the ground meal or corn grains for his fee. When the meal came back mom would store it in a large lard bucket with a tight lid so the meal worms could not get in. The rest of the store of corn would be shelled as needed to feed the chickens, hogs, mule and cow. The stalks would be cut and stacked into a tepee shaped shock. Later these would be moved to the barn loft for the horse and cow to eat.
Dad kept a blacksmith shop. Plows, axes, hoes, knives, mattock blades and saws had to be kept sharpened. Loose handles had to be replaced or repaired. Replacement meant shaping a new one with hatchets, chisels and wood rasp. Unless a tool broke in the field and had to be repaired immediately, the repair work was done in the fall after harvest and before they were stored for the winter. Metal parts that were broken were welded back.
A supply of fire wood also had to be collected before winter set in. Fallen trees or logs saved earlier were hauled in and sawn into firewood with a cross cut saw then split into firewood and kindling with the axe. Since we both heated the house and cooked three meals a day it took a lot of wood.
Mom kept busy in the winter months by patching and repairing clothing or making new feed sack dresses for the girls. She used every scrap of material that was left to make thick warm quilts. She also used those long, cold days to crochet pretty doilies, embroider dresser scarves and pillow cases and sew for the her family and the neighbor women.
Weekly chores such as washing, ironing and house cleaning had to be done. On wash day as soon as breakfast was over, everyone would pitch in and start carrying wash water from the spring. When the wash tubs were not in use mom sat them in the leak of the house to catch rain water. If it had rained the day would be a bit easier because there was less water to carry. Mom would fill up the wringer washer and the rinse tub. Mom washed on a washboard until her 8th child was born. At that time dad bought her a gasoline powered washing machine. The string on the motor would have to be pulled several times to get the motor going. After it started sloshing the white underwear went in first with Silver Dust washing powder, Mom got new towels this way, and Clorox. When they were clean they were fed through the wringer into a tub of clean water for rinsing. After being sloshed up and down by hand to get the soap out they were put back through the wringer into a clean basket, then taken out and pinned on the clothes line or hung across the palen slat fence to dry. The delicate, light colored wearing clothes were next followed by the sheets and towels. The dark clothing and pants were last. Before the rinse water was emptied, the floors in the house were mopped and the porches were scrubbed clean.
Since there was no permanent press fabric, nearly everything had to be ironed. Mom would make a big dish pan of starch for shirts, dresses, doilies and anything else that needed it. The clothing that had to be ironed were sprinkled with water and wadded up into balls so they would get damp and stay that way until ironed. The flat irons were put on top of the hot kitchen stove to heat. Once they were hot enough mom or the girls would use a pot holder and pick up the iron and start ironing. Three or 4 irons were on the stove so that when one began to get to cool another one was ready. All of us girls too our turn ironing, even me, I got dad’s handkerchief and the dish cloths. After ironing, clothes were placed on hangers and hung on a broomstick which had been nailed across one corner or on a nail in the wall. There were no closets. The ones that could be folded such as pants, bed clothing, etc. were folded and put either in the dresser and chest drawers or in the home made clothes shelf. This was a bookshelf type piece of furniture that had wider shelves and the front was covered with a curtain to hide the clothing. Usually sheets and quilts were stored there.
Each day there was a list of chores that had to be done. The day started well before daylight. A coal oil lamp was lit and then fire had to be kindled in the kitchen stove first thing. If it was cold weather, the heating stove had to be stoked as well. Hopefully when the fire was banked the night before there would still be hot coals! Once the fire was going, mom washed her hands and got out the flour bowl for biscuits. Bacon, sausage or pork chops were put in a skillet to fry. Biscuits were rolled out and put in the oven, a pan of eggs were put on to fry as well as a pan of apples. When the meat was done it was set aside on the warmer and gravy made in the drippings. When it was all done the table was set with this hearty meal. There would also be jams and jelly, fresh churned buttermilk, sweet milk, butter and coffee. Mom was a great cook and we always had plenty to eat. Everyone had to get up and eat. There was no sleeping late at our house!
As soon as breakfast was done mom packed dad’s lunch bucket with leftovers and he was off to walk the 5 or 6 miles to where he was building someone a house. He always left well before daylight. As soon as breakfast was over the girls started heating water to wash the dishes with. As they cleaned up mom would go out to milk the cow.
Our cow, Roxy, would come to the fence that surrounded our yard. Mom would take out a bucket of feed for her, a bucket of water to wash off the bag and tits, and a clean bucket to catch the milk. As the cow ate mom sat on a stool and washed her and began milking. My job was to stand behind the cow and hold her tail to keep her from swatting mom in the face while she milked. Sometimes the tail would be caked with cow manure and I hated that but had to do it anyway! My reward was a warm cup of milk. I had a tin measuring cup that I took with me every morning and night. When we were done the milk would be strained through a cheese cloth and put into gallon jars. Once the cream came to the top it wound be dipped off and set aside for butter making. The remaining milk was taken down to be put in the spring for cooling. It never spoiled but I guess with 10 kids and a few neighbor boys there all time it never lasted long enough.
The cream would be put in the churn and left at room temperature until it started to turn sour. When it was just right we took turns sloshing the dasher up and down until the clumps of butter fat started to separate. Once this occurred, the contents of the churn were poured out into a bowl. Then it was beat with a spoon some more. As the curds clumped it left a watery liquid that would be poured off every couple of minutes until all that was left was a bowl of rich butter. When it was had reached a spreading consistency a little salt was added and it was covered and set in the cupboard until needed.
While Mom was milking, the boys would go to the crib and get corn to feed the chickens. Eggs had to be gathered daily too. Our food scraps were kept in a bucket and used to feed the hogs. The mule was given corn and fresh fodder. Someone had to go to the spring to carry buckets of fresh water for the day. Wood had to be brought in from the wood pile. During spring, summer and fall the rest of the day was filled tending the crops but in the winter the boys had some idle time. This was used to make guitars, mandolins and fiddles and to play them and sing. Woodrow Combs, one of our cousins, stayed at our house most of the time. He used the long days to make straight backed, bark bottom chairs from hickory wood and bark. Hunting was also a part of farm life. Animals were not killed just for sport. We ate squirrel, groundhog and grouse.
One cold weather job was hog killing. When it finally got cold enough to be below freezing and stay that way most of the day it was time to put away meat for the winter. A washtub of water was put on an outside fire to boil. A plank platform was made to keep the meat off the ground. This was near a big tree so the hog could be hung there for gutting and cleaning. When to water started to boil someone would shoot the hog and cut the throat quickly so it would bleed. It was then pulled up onto the platform and the scalding water poured over it to loosen the hair which was scraped off with sharp knives. Once clean of hair its hind legs were secured to a strong stick and it was hoisted up off the ground supported by a large tree limb. It was then gutted and butchered. The meat would be brought to the house in dishpans, buckets and tubs. It had to be washed again and each piece looked over to remove any remaining debris. The fat would be removed and put in a big tub which was cooked to render out the lard. The grease would be poured into lard buckets and allowed to set solid. This was used to fry and season all our food. Bacon was salted, sausage was ground and seasoned, hams and other cuts were put in the smoke house to be cured.
Because we grew almost everything we ate the only food items that had to be bought at the store were flour, salt, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, coffee, black pepper, vanilla, cinnamon and a few other spices. The cost of energy was paid in sweat with the exception of having to buy a gallon of coal oil for the lamps and gas for the washing machine occasionally.
There are no more mountain farms like this. Large families are rare. Modern conveniences have replaced hard work. Machines have replaced the need for manual labor. Old timers have died out and their life skills have been largely lost. They are preserved in a few places such as at the Appalachian Museum in Tennessee, The Old Home Place near Paintsville, Kentucky and at the John C. Campbell Folk School in North Carolina to name a few.
Don’t get me wrong. I have no desire to go back and live in those back breaking “good ole days”. Real farm life was hard labor from before daylight to after dark, every day except Sundays. However, it was a great way to grow up. We developed a strong faith in the goodness of God, learned values and ethics that can never be replaced, created family bonds that are strong over 50 years later, and learned to love, laugh, sing and be happy. I have become modernized and love my automatic machines that do my work for me and especially, yes, my computer! Yet, I cannot help but become overcome with a wave of nostalgia for those old days and those old ways as I recall my childhood!
One room schools were wonderful. Not many younger than 50 will ever have attended one. Not many older who has attended one ever will forget!
My adventure started at Big Branch School when I was 6. I can’t say that I remember my first day there. However, my memory still holds images and sounds from that first year of school. My first teacher was a young man named Skylor Day. He was tall, blond and handsome. All the older girls in the neighborhood were in a tizzy over him! I loved him and felt I was special to him. Where I was or not I don’t really know. When I went up to the table in the corner that had the water bucket and tin cups for a drink or went to write on the board he would always pat me on the head. Now, that is such a little thing to remember! However, just that small gesture made me never forget him or his kindness.
Our day started with a walk, rain, shine, sleet or hail, about a mile out of the head of our hollow to the school at the mouth of the creek. It was only one big room with a small cloak room on one side and a small front porch beside the cloak room. The main room had big windows all along the lower side and at the back end, opposite the window wall was a wall with one window at the end and the rest was solid and the blackboard hung there. In the front corner was a big pot belly stove.
Eugene Wooton was one of the older boys. It was his job to get there early and build a fire. Most of the time when we got there the fire would already be roaring. Sometimes he would be a little late and we would wait on the porch, playing and laughing. Eugene was a skinny boy with red hair and freckles. A flat top (hair cut) was all the rage and he had one. I remember some mornings it was so cold that by the time he arrived there would be ice froze in his hair. However, I don’t remember ever freezing waiting on him!
Our lessons would begin when the teacher “took up books”. I was always a quick learner so I would finish my work first and then listen to the older children’s lessons. In this kind of a setting, we soaked up as much as our intelligence would allow. I completed all the first grade material in the first half of the year so I was started on the second grade material and finished that too. I was skipped to the third grade in my second year of school. When any of the smaller kids had problems with an assignment, the teacher would ask one of the older kids to help them. In this way, they learned to serve others and be compassionate.
When it was recess time we all ran out to play. Sometimes the teacher would organize us in to teams to play drop the handkerchief, little white house on the hill, or red rover. Red rover would be considered to dangerous for today’s wimps! However, most of the time we played our own games. The boys made sleds with wooden runners. We would pile on four or five at a time and ride off a slick hillside. We played soft ball and freeze tag too. We all got along well most of the time. In the winter we skated with our shoes on the ice in the creek. Pearl Irene Morgan was our teacher at one time. She had told us to stay off the ice because it was too dangerous. We didn’t so she lined us all up an took a switch to us!
We studied english, arithmatic, history, geography and practiced reading our writing skills. I learned to read from the Alice and Jerry readers. I can still remember some of the lines and see in my head the image of Jip, the dog, running with his ears flying back and the little blond girl and brown haired boy following close behind:
RUN JIP RUN!
JIP CAN RUN!
SEE JIP RUN!
Short, simple and sweet, we learned to read by sight and repetition.
Most of the kids in class were well behaved and minded the teacher well. When I was in about third grade one of the youngest kids was Larry Pennington. He had a heart condition and was sickly. He was pretty rowdy and when the teacher got after him he would run off and go home. His house was just out from the school. The other notable holy terror was Larry Callahan. When he got in trouble he would run outside and slam the door and then throw rocks against the door so the teacher couldn’t go out! She always got him in the end , if you know what I mean!
Once a week the missionaries came and told us about Jesus. That’s where I learned about sin and salvation. They taught us about principles of living and values that stayed with me as much as anything else I ever learned there! The health department nurse, Martha Cornett, came about once a year to give shots. She was a short, stocky woman with a big voice! She would have made a good drill Sargent! Everybody dreaded her as much as they did the needle! You didn’t dare resist. Occasionally the superntendant of schools would visit and I have forgotten his name.
In the spring our field trip was a trek through the mountains to find various plants and flowers and learn their names. We had boxed suppers in the fall to raise money for Christmas. We put on halloween and christmas plays and our moms came, dads were at work in the coal mines mostly. Mine was a carpenter.
Many of the children who attended Big Branch School moved away. Grant , Sherman, and Hayes Lewis moved their family out of state. Charlie moved to Hurricane Creek, the next hollow over. We finally moved over to Hurricane when I was ten. I went to a one room school when I moved to Hurricane also. However, I will never forget those early days of discovering the joy of learning and friendship at Big Branch School.
I got in the bed to early tonight and my eyes got big as saucers. I got what we called the “big eye” when I was a kid. That’s where you turn over and over trying to go to sleep because you know that time to get up for work comes too early and you really need your rest but the harder you try the more awake you get! Your mind goes round and around and you get to thinking about all kinds of stuff.
Anyway, I got to thinking about how hard it must be for Beverly to have to worry about her baby having cancer and how with her red hair she probably looks a lot like Gladys did when she was little. Then I thought of how sad Maggie must be with losing Tommy and how she had made him such a good wife. I prayed for all my family and friends and hoped I never had to lose a child and thought of Dorothy Gail and Dorothy. Then I thought about Vance.
I remember when I was to little to go to school. I remember him bringing home Ina Jane Day once. They had walked up Big Branch and it was during the day. I guess mom or somebody told me she was his girlfriend because I remember knowing that she was. What I remember was they sat leaned up against the living room wall in two home made chairs side beside. I bet Vance wished I hadn’t stood there looking them both in the face until he walked her back home!
I remember when he brought Gladys home too! It must have been just about near the same time. It was after dark and there was more than just him and Gladys that came in. I don’t remember who all but I remember Gladys leaning up against moms sewing machine and she had on a long straight skirt, dark colored, maybe checked, a light colored sweater, bobby socks and long red hair! And, she was skinny!
Then I got to thinking about our log house on Big Branch and how that there was eight of us and mom and dad all home at once in two (maybe) 14X14 feet front rooms, about an 8X18 foot kitchen and about an 8X8 tiny room for mom & dads bed and a small canning room and unfinished loft. Man! Everything we had was used and useful! There was no room for frivolity!
The best I remember, the first room where the front door came in had two full size cast iron beds, mom’s treadle singer sewing machine and the chifarobe which was actually a tall cabinet with shelves that dad had made with a curtain over it for doors and that was it! The other front room had two full beds, one walnut that dad had made and one cast iron, the battery radio cabinet, a walnut dresser that he had also made, the heating stove and 3or 4 homemade, straight back chairs. A quilt rack hung from the ceiling.
In the kitchen was a coal and wood cook stove, a dish cabinet that dad had made (Shirley still has it) , a small table for the water buckets, a long, homemade dinner table with a homemade bench behind it and several homemade chairs around the end and front side. At the end of the kitchen was the 8X8 room with mom and dads sassafras bed on one side and the dresser and chest on the other (he made these too, I still have them). There was barely enough room to walk in and open the drawers. There was a long stick in one corner which held the hung up clothes. At the back of the kitchen was a little room with shelves all around 3 walls for the can stuff. A ladder went up into the loft. There was a bed up there for some of the boys!
We had cheap linoleum on the floors, flowered wall paper on the walls, plastic curtains on the windows and two coal oil lamps. The walls had one calendar hanging behind the heating stove and one picture of a little blond haired girl with red pajamas sitting in bed praying on the wall over one of the beds. Delphia and Bill had brought it to mom for Christmas.
We also had soft feather beds and beautiful handmade quilts to sleep under. We had gorgeous crochet doilies mom made and starched and molded around jelly glasses until the ruffles stood up by themselves until the next washing. We had country smoked bacon and ham and fresh eggs, milk and butter. We had green beans, corn, tomatoes, apples, blackberries, krout, chowchow, apple butter, jams and jelly, all canned by mom and the girls. We had strings of shucky beans hanging on nails behind the kitchen stove. We had potatoes buried in a hole under the floor with straw over them to help them to keep all winter.
We had a mule and cow in the barn, hogs in the lot and chickens anywhere they wanted to be except in the house or on the porch and steps. They always got shooed off there because they were to messy. We had a rooster that flogged me every time I had to go out to the toilet. Shirley would have to go with me with a broom to keep him from spurring me!
Well, I digress! Back to the point! The point is that I, like everyone, have 7 rooms of junk and 90% of it is useless. Maybe I need to downsize. Well, I am getting sleepy now so I will have to think about this another time. I sure do love all my stuff!!!
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