Walking everywhere we went with no fear. Walking to Laura and George Thompson's place at Stone Creek. Walking up the "old road" to my second mother's home, Jeanette Dean (She was the one who washed me when I was born). Walking to Aub Dean's store. (Ma Woodard had a store there before.) Walking to church. Sometimes, someone would come along and give us a ride. They may already have a carload but you could always sit in someone's lap
The lady who lived up the hollow who was Cherokee Indian from Oklahoma. Her name was Amanda Palina Anadosiphine Queen Victoria Texas Wheeler.
Picking raspberries, cracking walnuts on the hearth, "kilt" green onions and lettuce. The black snake in my playhouse (Jimmy killed it with a garden hoe), the swing in the big walnut tree. Sitting under the bubbie bush on the moss and playing. Oh, the scent of the bubbies in the warm summer sun!
Listening to my mother sing "Barbary Allen". My brothers fighting the fire on the mountain and coming home black with smoke. Dad coming home from the mines blacker than that.
Watching Lee Green work the fields on his hill side. Looking at the Silver Leaf Maples at Everette West's house and imagining that they were "magic" trees.
The Kirks, Coopers, Burgans, Elys, Greens, Deans. To this day the sound of a siren scares me because if an ambulance went up the road, it was for someone you knew.
Going to any church with my mother who loved to worship the Lord. Didn't matter what denomination. If someone said "We're going to church, want to go?", we went!
Company coming for Sunday dinner. Friends spending the night and sleeping 5 or 6 to a bed, crossways, upside down or however. Mom's quilting frames. The pile of quilts on the bed in the winter. The sound of the rain on the tin roof.
We certainly have come a long way. We lived a hard but simple life. We had friends, family, love, lots of good food from the garden and the mountain. Those days will never come again. I've had many opportunities and enjoyed many things that I never dreamed about when I was looking at my "magic" trees. I wouldn't trade my life for anyone's and I certainly wouldn't trade my memories.
N.J
10-10-2000
*The song playing is Barbara Allen an old mountain song. The old folks called it Barbary Allen. If you don't like the music it may be turned off at the bottom of the page.
If you would like to send me your memories, just put Lee County Memories in the subject line. I would love to have your memories, also.
