Appalachian Roots

During college, I took a class on Appalachian Literature. As part of the course, we were encouraged to interview someone who’d grown up in the Appalachian region, so I interviewed my grandmother. I’m so glad I did. Not only do I have a record of her family and Jellico, Tennessee heritage written in her own handwriting, but I also captured a piece of history that she can no longer provide me now that her memory has gotten so bad. I’ll share a piece of our Appalachian roots here, in her words:

Peter McCully worked in the mines until he was killed by a falling slate rock slide. His widow Bettie was left to raise 8 children on a very small miner’s pension in the miner’s shack given to her. The house was poorly furnished with 2 beds, a chest for clothes, a big old coal range in the kitchen for cooking and heating. Curtains were an unaffordable luxury so a length of cloth was tossed over the rod in the kitchen. A big old table and mismatched chairs completed the kitchen.

The food was kept in a cold cellar – a dugout in the yard near the back porch, cooled by the shade trees. A pot of beans was on the stove daily to feed the family. My grandmother made biscuits for breakfast and topped it with her freshly churned butter from the lone cow’s milk. The children had to milk the cow.

The laundry was done in a metal tub placed on a chair with no back, rinsed and hung to dry and later ironed with a flat or “sad” iron heated on the range. The kitchen table was padded with a worn blanket and white cloth to make an ironing board.  One had to make do – or do without.

My mother only got to go to 2^nd grade then stopped to do housework to earn a few cents. The mine owners were the ones who lived well. The coal to heat and cook with was bought for $0.25 / bucket at the coal yard and if no one was looking, you could pick up several extra small pieces to add to the bucket. Most of my grandmother’s supply was provided by this method.

Our furniture was used and old and utilitarian. We never had a carpet on the floor. Our usual covering was ragged and worn linoleum or bare floor. No wardrobes. Clothes were hung on a nail in the wall- usually the bedroom. The house had five rooms. It did have a front and back porch. My mom and grandma liked to sit out on the back porch and chew their snuff and spit over the rail. I hated to see them do that so much. It seemed such nasty and ignorant behavior.

When I was growing up in so much poverty, the most comforting thing was to smell a pot of beans simmering away on the coal range and waiting for the cornbread that came with it. On rare occasions we’d get a glass of milk and maybe a slice of bologna. For a treat, we’d get to go to Granny’s and she was usually cooking a stewing hen and dumplings and sometimes she’d bake an apple pie. Pure delight!

My grandmother went on to marry, have three daughters and work as a Children’s Librarian. She moved from poverty, to humble surroundings, to a comfortable life. I never would have pictured this childhood for her. Until she described it to me, I had no idea what her life was like. I’m so glad I asked.