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Paying Respects

The high school basketball season is upon us. I’m a huge fan of Lady Cats basketball. I usually start the countdown to the first game around six months ahead of time. I love watching those kids play ball. When the first game of the season rolls around each year I find myself looking around the gym, searching for old faces as well as new fans. There are several diehards. Mr. Tom Richardson, Mrs. Odell Hamby, and too many others to count. When I see their usual seat or spot along the railing empty, I’m always concerned. There are certain folks that are just always there. Unfortunately, they are getting older and it is harder on them to get out as winter progresses. When I see them, I always make a point to go speak to them for a bit. I love talking to the older crowd and hearing their stories.

Over the last decade I’ve become more aware of losses in my own life, and in our community in general. Folks that I’ve always known, enjoyed talking with, and taken for granted that they would always be there, have passed on. I commented to a buddy a few months ago that it’s a sure sign that I’m getting older as I now attend many more funerals than I do weddings. And the funerals themselves, at least in my family, are changing too. Attendance is getting smaller. My family is dying off, and the peers of the older generation are going, too. A vivid memory that I have of my funerals on Daddy’s side of the family is of Mr. Garnett Lovell always being there. He lived just over the mountain from Paw Paw’s farm on Bridge Creek. Mr. Garnett was there every time, always wearing his best overalls. I always made a point to go talk with him and spent a good bit of time with him. I realized without thinking about it that he was the last tie to Paw Paw’s generation. Now Garnett Lovell has passed on and his grandson Jeffrey is the one coming to our funerals.

My Daddy is the last of eight siblings living, and now I’ve lost one cousin from my own generation. At my cousin’s visitation and funeral, I noticed a surreal vibe, for lack of a better way to phrase it. Everyone there went out of his or her way to come talk to Daddy. Not simply to offer condolences; it was clear that they wanted to be around him, to talk to him. I noticed Jeffrey Lovell there with him and it reminded me of his grandpa. It was right then that I realized Daddy had become the last of his generation and the patriarch of his family.

As I sit here editing this short essay, Daddy is in his last weeks or days. After enduring half a dozen successful heart and vascular surgeries in less than four years, he was diagnosed with end stage metastatic cancer two weeks ago. I’m spending every second with him that I can, and trying to get new stories from him while he’s able to tell them. Nevertheless, I know there are many stories that will die with him. I can’t imagine life without him. He has always been tough as nails and is supposed to always be there.

Tomorrow at the first home Lady Cats game I will definitely appreciate seeing the old familiar faces and will not take any of the conversations for granted. Paying respect…

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Howdy!

I was born and reared in Southern Appalachia. Specifically in Rabun County, Georgia. My Daddy’s side of the family has been in Rabun County since at least 1830, and one branch of Mama’s family has been in the area prior to the formation of the county.

I grew up during the 1970s and ‘80s, a period when many of the “old timers” were still around and remembered their childhoods. I have an interview with Paw Paw (Daddy’s father), in which he reminisced about seeing the first automobile to ever come through Tiger, Georgia.

I’ve always had a love of reading, learning, and history. I suppose I officially became a historian (Yes, “a” historian. I’m neither British, nor a self-important elitist.) in second grade. The Foxfire program was at its peak during that time. Students from the program came to our class, put on a presentation regarding the importance of preserving our oral history, and sent us home to record an interview. I interviewed Paw Paw in Spring 1980. I’ve never stopped. Since then I’ve interviewed every old-timer I could find in the area. Most of them were never interviewed by the Foxfire students. Most of them are gone now, and many of their stories are gone with them.

I am a lifelong writer. While reading Revenuers and Moonshiners by Wilbur Miller   during my graduate school years I stumbled on secondary source references to letters compiled by the Internal Revenue Commissioner from the late 1870s and early 1880s. Since I wanted to use information from these in my Master’s thesis, I tracked down copies of the original letters. What a treasure trove of information! A full blown war against the moonshiners was waged in North Georgia and the Carolinas by the federal government. Some of the accounts by the deputy collectors in the field are amazing. I’ve decided to write a trilogy of action/historical novels about the fight. —– I plan to release chapters from the first book here, as well as recount anecdotes from the historical letters.

Daddy is also still with us. At 75 years old, he is now the old timer of moonshining lore, sad as it is to think about his mortality. While he has lived a mostly respectable life, he was an infamous moonshiner back in the day. Most of his family is another story. To call them rogues and criminals would be an understatement. I’ve recorded close to a dozen interviews with him through the decades. That said, every week he tells me a new story that I’ve never heard before. Thanks to modern technology, I’m going to start video recording new interviews with him, especially trying to get new stories unrecorded elsewhere. The videos will be posted on my YouTube channel, with links to them on this blog. Daddy is pretty weak, so each installment will be fairly short.

This blog isn’t going to be simply a collection of oral histories, but will chronicle modern Appalchian life. There will be essays regarding growing up in the area, stories and recollections of the older generation, as well as some travel writing about the area. You might see articles about mountain biking, trail running, or Jeep explorations in Southern Appalachia. Possibly even farming, gardening, and woodworking stories. Generally whatever strikes my fancy and shares my love of all things from life in Southern Appalachia.