Quilt Pieces Did you ever lie in bed at night and pick out the tiny squares in a quilt at your Mamas house or your Grannys and recognize that it was once your dress, which later became an apron and then made its way to a warm quilt? It would be faded by this time, perhaps even patched, but it was that little cornflower blue circle tailed dress that you wore and turned around and around until you were dizzy, but you felt that surely you could fly? Or perhaps you were the little boy whose shirt had been made out of a feed sack on Mamas old treadle machine...you had been so proud of that shirt until the cute little girl in your class came to school with a dress of the same sack. You couldnt wait to get home and put on something else and throw this one away...but no one threw clothes away in your household...Mama used the backside for an apron and the rest of it went into a quilt. Tiny stitches traveled through the pieces that were a sacred memory and bound forever the laugher of a little girl or the humiliation of a young boy. I have quilts like that for when I was growing up very little was thrown away. Now you take diapers...we used them on three children until they were thin and soft...just right to wipe furniture polish on an antique dresser, or wipe rain drops from that new old car. Now few people used the diapers and perhaps they dont know the satisfaction of wiping English oil on an old table that had once been your Mamas and before that your grannys. Few know satisfaction of hanging diapers out in the sunshine and bringing them inside smelling like a clean, fresh day. There is a sense of satisfaction to use and reuse or even to make something new and different out of a thing that might have been relegated to the garbage. I miss the days of sewing little dresses, hanging clothes out and bringing in a breath of sunshine. I miss the smell of soup simmering on the old coal stove and corn bread setting out of the heat, but ready to be eaten, as soon as the soup of loaded into the bowl that Mama had gotten out of Quaker Oats. I miss the days when life was simpler and we thought it would never change. Last week I attended a memorial in Blair, up above Cumberland, and I watched as with bittersweet memories, a group of mountain people paid tribute to ones they had loved and lost fifty years to that day, Oct. 8th 1964. Sherrill Fouts gave a tribute to the five young men who lost their lives in that fatal car accident that broke hearts that never quite mended. Sherrill is married to Brenda Maggard who is the sister of Ernie Lee Maggard, the young man who loved working on cars and drank RC Colas and ate Moon Pies for breakfast, which he persuaded his sister to run to the store to get for him. He was engaged to Janice Wilson. In his memorial, Fouts quoted a friend who said we dont write the script to our lives or decide when we will die. Cullen Breshears was the oldest at twenty nine years old, to die that day. He was a gifted musician, who would never play the guitar or sing a song again. Jimmy Chandler was a laid back young man who liked to play cards and he loved gravy...he would eat it at any meal on anything. His youthful smile was surely a thing to behold. Bruce Foutch was nineteen years old and he loved to hunt and shoot pool. He had worked in Ohio but had gotten a job closer to home and was going to go to work in a coal mine in LineFork. Darrell Shepherd worked on what was referred to back then as a rolling store and he delivered groceries. The car crash was loud...Dennis Scott lived close by and that early morning, he ran to a scene that would haunt him the rest of his life. He often told people that he wished to God he had not seen that terrible sight. Blair was a tight knit community and it still is, but there were lots of houses and families living in the quiet community back in those days. It was before the new road was built and driving down the narrow road, the young men did not make the curve. Four died instantly, but the fifth one lived until they got him to the hospital. They were all from Blair and the accident devastated the families who lived there. In our mountains, we might get angry at our neighbors, but like family, we are always there for them...we grieve with them, we cry, we mourn, we pray. All of Blair lost that day...and fifty years later, they still mourn that loss. On this chilly, rainy day they came to remember and honor the young men, who never had a chance at life. Families, older now and much smaller in size gathered around and talked of the old days...those times when death had not conquered so many, but it was obvious that death had never completely taken the young men, for their memory was as alive as yesterday and they danced throughout the minds and hearts of those who loved and still love them. They had a lovely monument put in the park in Blair, but no monument, even one as beautiful as this one, could equal the love in the hearts of these people who lost so much. It floated and resonated that day, and although I did not know the young men, my heart ached for their friends and families and yet I felt a warmth of the heart that expanded and touched and knew no boundaries. While I was talking with some of the residents and drinking coffee and eating some of the delicious food that was brought to the gathering, I learned some of the history of the community. Now I grew up just a few miles down the road, but it was like living in another world back then. I heard of Blair and had some friends in high school who lived there. Kay Marshall lived right down the road from the accident and she was a friend who was in Chorus with me. She was a sweet and beautiful girl, one of several girls and maybe one(?) brother. He came into my store in Cumberland last year and when I asked about Kay he told me she had died a few months earlier. I think his name was Pat. He and his wife were very sweet and friendly. I talked to Linda Morris Chandler and she was very helpful with the information about Blair. If I have anything wrong, it is my fault not Lindas for she knows all about the area, for her grandfather was a businessman back in the day in Blair. Fred Lane and his wife Rebecca Halcomb Lane, were well known. Her great grandmother was a Brown from Sand Hill and Sylvester Morris was her grandfather. Fred Lane came from Dandridge Tenn. to work at US Steel in Lynch. He became owner of an apartment house and the first service station in Blair. Jimmy Chandler was Lindas next door neighbor and she married his brother Alvin. She went to school with Ernie Lee. At one time there were four grocery stores and a large Texaco Station. There were some honky tonks as well...Green Gables and the Star Night Club. Does anyone remember the Rock House? The community made up money several years ago to build the overhead for the little park. Much of the work was done by prisoners and the women of the community cooked for them while they were working. I think that says a lot about the caring people of Blair. In fact it is a strong statement in my estimation. Patsy Marshall, the sister of my beautiful friend Kay, gave the first one thousand dollars toward the building. She might not have want that known but it all goes to show the devotion for home that resides in the community of Blair. Everyone who attended the dedication, with the exception of me, were either kin or a friend of the young men who died...but I came away feeling I had known them, walked down the dusty lane, our shoes encrusted in tin cans, or rode a car top with them in the cool shade of the river. Rest gently and know you were loved. Someone told me that hornets build their nests high up when we are going to have a lot of snow. They did that this summer. You know I have a hankering for a good Paw Paw or some persimmons, ripe and luscious after a killing frost. Grapes and apples are so good this time of year. Dont forget to visit the Apple Tree Barn right past the shelter where the memorial is and stop by and say a prayer for these young mens families while you are at it. The memorial is beautiful. You will enjoy the Apple Tree and they have a variety of apples. I did a story about them a few years ago at apple blossom time. The weather was beautiful in Cumberland but after going high on the Big Black, it steadily got cooler. We finally got there and the trees were full in blossom. I just about froze. It was pouring rain and downright cold and I had on sandals and no sweater. It was beautiful, a little bit of heaven. I was told that high on that mountain was where certain apples did the best. When we got back to Cumberland, the weather was still warm and lovely...no rain in sight. Recently I went to the annual fish fry held at the Tri City Nursing Home near Cumberland. I had gone with my granddaughter Samantha, who is a horse person and spends a lot of time at The Stables at Creek Side Glen. Drew Baldwin runs the Stables for Meridzo Ministries with Lonnie and Belinda Riley. Each year they take a few gentle horses and give the children who come out to visit with grandparents and the older generations, rides around the grassy meadows. A lot of people come out and enjoy visiting and interacting with people in the nursing homes and there is a lot to be said about the fried fish and Cole slaw as well. Jeff Wilder was manning one of the food tables as well. Many of you know Jeff who is running for school board. His Mama taught English and Chorus when I was in high school. There is a bit of sadness in visiting nursing homes and many do not feel comfortable doing so...but it was certainly a welcome addition to our neck of the woods, after I left home, a long time ago. There is an old swinging bridge behind the nursing home that tells of yesterday, kids running and playing, fishing and just being alive and healthy was a celebration. Years ago I worked in a nursing home in New Hampshire and found it a satisfying experience. I heard a lot of interesting stories there...I remember one woman had a picture of herself as a young woman. She was beautiful. Her name was Alice and I wrote a poem called Yesterdays Alice. It was a Catholic Nursing Home and was run by nuns in long white habits. I truly loved working with the nuns. They were efficient and kind, as well as gentle. I know for a fact that the nurses at the Tri City Home are caring people for my cousin is one of them...Kim Vanover, the daughter of my dear friend and cousin, Dorothy Ison. She will always be little Dorothy Ison to me...tiny and thin with reddish blond hair, freckles and a cherished smile. In Kims efficiency she often seems a bit standoffish but in truth she is a kind and gentle person, always putting others welfare above her own. If you have time stop by and visit...the kindness you give from visiting an older person will be well rewarded. I saw many people visiting that day that I know and they are regulars, coming and going in an effort to cheer and be a blessing to others. As you watch the gentle smiles of those who can no longer take care of themselves, you realize that they were once busy, active and just the way we are but now they need a little help and a kind word from visitors. When I was young there were no nursing Homes and at times it was difficult to find anyone to care for them if they had no children. The youngest daughter was usually designated to care for her parents in their old age. My Granny had no daughters so her two sons, Holly and Clarence took care of her and Pap. But for the most part there was usually a daughter who took care of her family in their old age. I was the one who should have stayed around to care for Mama, but I took another road. I headed out to Indiana to get a job after I graduated from high school. A lot of us did so. As you notice some of us came back as well... Take care and remember to smile at someone and perhaps pray a little prayer for them. I guarantee you will feel better too! Blessings....call or write to me at any time. (606) 505-5307.
Posted on: Tue, 07 Oct 2014 00:33:06 +0000
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