I long for the mountains wild and free and the gift to stand on a ridge and count a thousand trees. From the Southern tier of NY State to the Northern Mountains of Alabama and Georgia is known as Appalachia. We have been ridiculed and called hillbillies. We have been the subject of thousands of books. Until the last maybe 50 or 60 years, mountain folk were thought to be a bit backward and not very friendly. I’ve always said, “If you want to be my friend take me out to eat. Buy me a bowl of pintos with a slice of onion on the side and a piece of cornbread and we will be friends.” The Book says if you want friends to show yourself friendly. Well, mountain folk were read wrong. The Appalachians are one of the richest areas in the entire country. A wealth of precious stones, metals and, yes, gold is found in them. The rich dirt grows almost everything well. Lumber was a staple that helped get America started. There is abundant coal, wildlife and fish. It is a great place to live and grow up. I know, I’ve been here since ’43 and ain’t going nowhere except Heaven. These mountains are a piece of Heaven to me. You seldom hear critics say anything about John Coltrain, Dolly, Loretta, Wendall Berry, Pearl S. Buck, Brad Paisley and so many more, including Bluegrass, Mountain humor, and logic. To me, it’s the toughness, independence, and integrity of the mountain families that set the tone for America. Not limited to the hills, our forefathers built this country one log at a time – in homes, Churches, and Schools. I’ve said it a thousand times so one more won’t hurt. “Work, Worship, and a Willingness to help others are the foundation we were built on.” If your life has been a blessing, then your memories are a treasure, priceless.
I’m not sure where that all came from. I tend to go down rabbit trails sometimes, but I had this thought or question come to mind. What is the greatest or best gift you ever received? Now don’t jump ahead but think back over your life. I remember when I was 7 years old and we lived in a house that backed up to a mountain. Just down the hill was a creek and an old oak bridge to fish off of or just lay on and daydream. I used to cut hickory saplings and shave them down some, (yes, I had a broken bladed Barlow with one handle) and put them behind the wood cookstove to cure. I made some pretty good bows, but string was hard to come by. For Christmas that year I got one gift along with two, yes, two brown pokes from Church. It was a fiberglass bow with two honest to goodness arrows. I thought that was the best gift I ever got.
When I was 11 or 12 my Dad worked at American Enka Plant and if I remember correctly he brought home around $60. a week. We were not poor nor were we rich. We had enough. That Christmas my folks bought me a genuine Schwinn Bicycle. Whitewall tires, chrome fenders, a horn and an ornament on the front fender. I was free. I met the Bookmobile at Clay London’s store every other Saturday, rain or shine. I could go to the swimming hole in Hominy Creek. The bike cost over $70. I thought it was my greatest gift possible.
What about the $6.25 I made hoeing Dedrick Morgan’s corn at 25 cents an hour? And there was the 22 single shot Remington and a box of shorts for squirrel hunting. Great gifts that have memories I treasure.
Those were an example of great gifts of growing up. Then “Manhood.” Sixteen and met my future wife. She turned to me in the top of a fire tower after the family had gone down and said, “Would you like to kiss me?” I stuttered, stammered, kicked the floor and turned red, and finally tasted the sweetness of her. I was hopelessly hooked. One of the greatest gifts I could possibly ever have received.
And when they brought my First Son out to me and I held him, what a gift repeated four times. And the doctor brought out my little girl due in two weeks, but the cord got wrong. I held her beautiful little body and wept. A couple of the nurses wept with me and hugged me and even that act of kindness was a real gift.
The strength to pour that fifth down the sink 50 or so years ago was a gift that could have only come from God. Near the very top of my list. I dropped dead in the back yard in 2015, with no warning or pain. My wife had gone in the house to put lunch away. She just happened to bring some trash to the back door and saw me fall. She put her phone on speaker and went to work performing CPR, which we had learned through Foster care. They came and took over and 26 plus minutes later they got a faint heartbeat and transported me to the hospital…That was a gift from God. My wife had a friend call my golfing friend who is a cardiologist. He happened to be home near the hospital, and he just happened to answer his phone. He rushed over to the hospital and called for a helicopter to take me to Baptist. They froze me for a day and a half and eventually replaced the widow maker artery and I am well. Gifts are many in this story – there are others but I’m longwinded already. But let me say with a profound love that I feel that getting to live in this country and particularly in the mountains has to be near the top of the list of gifts I have gotten.
My first wife died in ’98 from bacteria after 10 good months with a heart transplant. You can get through tragedies and find love again. We have been married 22 years now and that in itself is a wonderful gift.
We have been blessed to keep small foster children and for the last 5 years we have had little ones to love. The last two were ours for two years and they were the sweetest most loving little ones. It was a real gift because they were the last ones we will Foster. They were adopted into a great home and that is a gift of an answered prayer. I miss them so much and that is the gift of love. We are just too old, but in life that is a gift also.
I’m going to skip a few events and now explain the greatest gift I ever received. I’m sure most of you know what I’m talking about by now. I went to a sunrise service on top of a hill behind a Church, reluctantly. That old-time mountain preacher began to talk and I was all to pieces. I got behind my wife cause I thought he was looking at me. And tears came – I couldn’t stop them from oozing out. I was thinking I wish he would hush. Then he said in closing the only words I remember, “The stone was rolled away.” I went around the corner and jumped into the back seat of a ’51 green chevy. I was crying and didn’t know why, even though I had gone to Church my whole life growing up. I knew the scriptures, had memorized verses and had been to the altar many times, but nothing like that morning. That old mountain man come around the corner like a bloodhound and leaned into the window. I received the greatest Gift that is possible to get, free for me, when in his deep gravelly voice he said, “Son, you just need Jesus.”