In the mountains at the turn of the century, things began to change. Not in a hurry but slowly and surely, just like the seasons-change is inevitable. Shelton Laurel, Spillcorn, Hickey’s fork, Laurel and big Laurel, and most of the Appalachians teemed with game and the creeks were full of rainbow, brown, and speckled trout. Someone wrote about those days, that you could catch a hundred most anytime. They wrote about Hickeys’ fork, a creek in Madison County, NC, being the best because the timber and laurel made it difficult to fish. They said bear and deer were plentiful. That a man could take his rifle gun out a couple hours before supper and get supper-anytime. By the way, it’s been changed by the uptown crowd from supper to dinner. Well, it’s still supper to me. You know the logging companies came to Laurel and built communities. Train tracks used to run on Shelton laurel to get the wood out. I don’t know where they were because I can see no evidence of them anywhere I have visited. They recorded thousands of trees 4 to 6 feet thru and harvested them for seven years in one area of Madison county. Keep in mind an ax and a crosscut saw was the tools used. Most mountain men could hew a log for a cabin, build a door, rive the shingles out of white oak, make furniture or a bowl with an ax, and a knife and other cutting tools made by the blacksmiths. There seemed to always be a blacksmith and a sawmill sooner or later in traveling distance for every community. And eventually a store. There has never been a more industrious people than the ones who came from Scotland, Ireland, Germany, Wales, and England. Whatever was available, was what was used in the most efficient way.
These old mountain men had a sense of humor that bordered on brilliance. One fellow who was known for gathering news had this said about him-Sometimes you can hear the news coming from him a gunshot away. My friend Jock said Linda and Him had been married so long that when they got married the French Broad river was a creek, One fellow was being accused of something by the ‘boys’ at the local store, and one said in his defense, I have no say so because I ain’t no judge, and there ain’t enough of me for a jury One fellow said his friend was so weak he couldn’t pull a hen off a roost. Think about this-After a man’s wife left someone asked him if he missed her-He said no more than a cold draft after the door is shut. A circuit-riding preacher ate dinner with a fellow who, when asked how the preacher was as company, answered, Wal he thinks more of chicken fixings than saying Grace and on and on.
Our ancestors grew and raised everything they needed. Potatoes and apples were stored in the ground. Everything was dried or smoked or cured or canned for winter. Wood was ricked everywhere, and hay was in the barns, corn was kept dry for feed and meal.
Corn shocks, (fodder) was for feed, Haystacks were dotted around on the homestead for the animals. One old-timer I met at the store over on Laurel, said people were happier back then because they didn’t have ‘things’. He said it was wanting things, or wanting things you didn’t even need made people unhappy. I suspect there is truth to that. He said there was a time when men were free. Uncomplicated. Food and shelter were what you worked for and acquired. He looked at me and said why do you need anything else? This country was built because all men wanted was a piece of ground, good shelter, and food. I enjoyed talking to him. Let me interject a thought here, promote conversations with folk you meet, especially older folks. Most love to talk about where they came from and where they were going. He had been driving a truck for someone and he told me at the Icard exit near Hickory, NC, the Holy Spirit convicted him so bad that he got off on the exit and prayed and God saved him in his truck. He still teared up just telling it, and you know me I teared up with him…
Back then was a time when you could think about tomorrow as well as remember yesterday with peace. One fellow said his father never found the business of life and the daily battle for survival frustrating. You just made do. And helped each other He said his father had his family and his farm and still had time to sit on the porch and talk.
There are very few folks I know who have that satisfaction these days. His father called it the joy of living.
One asset they had-not so many things to contend with-wars, cold wars, taxes, high cost of living, fears, and most not an electric bill even. They were content.. I always think of Chauncy Fender after coming in for a bite of lunch.
Chauncy said If he was plowing or using the mule he gave it an ear of com for “fuel”. He would go out on his front porch, sit down in a straight-backed chair and lean it back against the wall and usually, he had his pocket knife out-a case, just in case, either sharpening or whittling at nothing. And he would talk to you, and he had the best sense of humor, mountain style But what he really had was peace. Right down the front yard was little Foster creek, And just across the branch was his only real flat place on the farm, then the mountain rose steeply up to a blue sky. I say this, what more would a man need to have peace? Combine that with a relationship with the Lord and perhaps a taste of ‘Heaven” on earth. Be blessed, because you and I can close our eyes sitting in a Doctors office and visit our own place of rest and Peace.