It was being held at one of the old mining camp houses that they used for a church. The Christmas tree was decorated with tinsel, crepe paper, pop corn and an assortment of cut out paper crayon colored figures. Alongside todays Christmas trees it would look drab, but at that time it was the most elaborate thing that I had ever seen in my young life. In my memories some fifty years later it still remains as fresh and good as it was on that night.
The play was put on by the miners and I will never forget one of the comedy parts was played by a young man by the name of "Jabbo" Taylor. I remember my Dad saying that "Jabbo" was the best coupler that he had ever seen work behind a motorman.
After the play was over each miner was given a grocery bag full of oranges, apples, nuts and candy. One bag for each child in the family. I don't remember how many children there were in our family at the time but I do know that it was four room house full. Dad filled a burlap bag--we called them grass sacks--with the grocery bags. Two of the bags went into another grass sack for me to carry home.
We hoisted them across our backs and set out for home--a distance of four and one-half miles. The snow was coming down in big flakes, with perhaps three inches already on the ground.
Lights were on in Mack Stapleton's house and most everybody was still up at the Maness, Evans, Harber and Bruner homes. At Stone Creek we passed Acy Stapletons, Mr. Coopers and Mr. Osborne's across the creek.
We turned on the old dirt Harlan Road. The first house we passed on the left across the creek was the Tide Park family's, a two story white house. At that time in my life that house was a mansion to me. We rested for a few minutes as I stared at the house and wondered what it would be like to live in a house like that.
The snow had filled the ruts of the old dirt road and you had to watch where you stepped to keep from falling. On past Admant Baptist Church, the Stapleton place on the right and Jim Harber's on the left.Our next rest was in front of the old Steve Napier place. Across the creek you could barely make out the Ben Harber and Charlie Thompson places through the falling snow.
Then on past the Wheeler place, Finley and Dave Napier's and right near the Belgium School house, the Greens--was it Sally Green?--I can't recall. Anyway, it was Lee Green's mother. Then alongside the creek by Frank Deans. At Billy Dean's we rested again as I looked at the two story house, another mansion, I thought.
After that came Elzie Burgin and Howard Smallwood's places above the road. Below the road was where Caner Parsons lived with his wife, Mandy. She walked all over Lee County delivering babies, including me.
The next house across the creek was Granny Thompson--don't recall her name. Her son lived there--Richard.Everybody called him Rich Granny. He called me "Fiddlin' John Carson." Finally we passed Woodard's store, Harve Doss's house and Joe Doss's store.
I went to bed sometime after midnight and lay there for a long time still excited about the journey that I had just been on. Looking back now, I am amazed at how happy anyone could be with so little. I have had many good Christmases since then, some not so good and some great, but none will ever equal that one.
I went with my Dad one other time after that and my Uncle Wright gave us a ride home. My Dad walked to and from Penn Lee Coal Company every work day, leaving before daybreak and getting back home after dark.
After I grew up I didn't see eye to eye with my dad and I am truly sorry about that. But in his last years I grew closer and closer to him and will never forget a short time before his death. We went back in the hills to the old Kirk and Napier grave yards and walked through the woods most of the day.
He told me of the hard work at Penn Lee, the gob, rock, and up and down roller coaster seam of coal. He said "everybody lived about as good as fifty cents or a dollar a day would let them." He also told me some stories of his favorite story teller, Dru Ely. At the end of that day I was just as close to my Dad as on that Christmas Eve of long ago, and that's the way it should be.
Uncle Wright gave me some of the names of the men who worked there. There are many more that he can't remember. I have heard my Dad talk of some of them many times and, after I grew up, I knew many of them who lived around St. Charles. Some of them have died and some moved away. Others are still there.
There was Omor Tomlinson, the owner, Mack and Bill Stapleton, Bill Sanders and the Stewarts--Sonny, Jim, Albert, Wright and Rufus. The Ely's--Olin and Hobert, Frank Carter, Frank Burke, Minner and Camel Witt, Earl Fultz, Jim Osborne, John Hendricks and Earnest Thompson. There was Zion Payne, Tom Kirk, Johnny and Paul Harris, Bill Cooper and the Jessee's--Joe, Mattie, Wright and Eckle. Also Jerry Harber, Henry Muse, Jim Denton, Wright and Vance Cottrell and Bill and Oz Newton. And Toy VanZant, Mr. Dotson, Clyde Sprinkle, a Mr. Duncon and the Webbs--Raymond, Rome, Tilson, Steve "Bulldog" and Worley.
Like I said before, some of these men are gone now and so is Penn Lee Coal Company--but not the memories; especially of a Christmas Eve when my Dad and I walked to a party and back home again on a cold, snowy night.
Reprinted with permission from his book "Gone, but Not Too Far."
Thank you, Carson!
