Blood-Kin

 

In 1953, my 9th year of my life on this earth, 1 was suddenly transported from the place of my birth, Savannah, Georgia, USA,  Transported by a drive of 500 miles, in a brand new, $2300.00, 1953 Pontiac, to Clear Creek, Kentucky. This move was to become the most loved five years of my first 20 years of life. 

That huge car, also transported us through time from 1953 to 1893. We stepped out of the car from the century I was born in, into the century before.

In a few blinks of an eye, I was transformed into a child of the Appalachian Mountains, a mountaineer child, a child awed by the new accents, a new language, I started to sang my words, and sucked up the sounds and stories of this mountain language like a sponge. A world that made me giggle at first, when the words far tar, meant fire tower.  

The mountaineers stories fill my head with clans, family ties, kinfolk, family feuds, shootings and men with guns in the woods. Long guns, shot guns, pistols and most folk packed a gun. I was living in a world of frontier stories you may have read about in Zane Gray or Louis L'Amour book
 

I heard this over and over. Thars moonshiners in them thar hills that  sooner shoot you than eat! You'uns see anything up that holler, you don't say nuthin, you don't see nuthin and you keeps ya mouth shut and get ya self outa there. they is all blood-kin, and ya wanna watch out what ya say and where ya say it.

At age 12, I looked forward to Saturday, because we visited daddy's pastoral flock and  I rode in the coveted front passenger seat, with my dad driving, and we drove to the Church he was pastor of.  I was 12 and loved to go with my Dad to visit the homes of the members of his church.  Saturday was the day I listened to stories, protected Daddy from cats and dogs, platted the tail of a mule and got kicked in the stomach, was showered with fresh milk by a teen boy milking the cows, climbed in barn lofts. We visited homes that barely clung to the side of a mountain. #1 on the most memorial memory of those days, was the great Dane dog with 12 large puppies. I will never forget them.

 #2 on the most memorial memory 

The big green car with daddy white knuckling the steering wheel, rolled slowly down and down and down the Devils Switchback road towards the church as we left our house that  perched on the edge of the mountain we lived on. Daddy's tenor blended with my alto and the words of Amazing Grace probably echoed off the mountains. 

We had a wonderful day and the last house we visited, was very close to the church. We left the front porch and down to the car and headed towards the church and home was 40 minutes away.

We drove for maybe 20 minutes and as we went around the curve into the straight part of the road, we saw 3 men. They were staggering down the mountain, two of the men practically dragging the one in the middle. they staggered into the road in front of us, and we could see there was a lot of blood on the front of the middle man. The fact they came out of the woods, down the mountain and their  overalls and dirty long hair, screamed Moonshiners, not to mention the blood.

Daddy smashed the brakes, I screamed, no daddy, don't stop! He is covered in blood. the car rolled to a stop and Daddy got out to talk to them, a few words and he brought them to the passenger side, MY side of the car, and opened the door behind me. They put the bloody man in the middle and one climbed in on my side, the other went to the other door, Daddy got back in the car and started it up. By the time the last door slammed, I had turned my self around and pressed my back against the glove compartment with my feet drawn up

Terrified I stared at them and suddenly forgetting every thing I ever heard, I said "What Happened"?

The man in the middle pointed to either side with his thumbs and said

Deese men be my Blood Kin, we's tryin ta get ta do horsespital down yonder, I got me 3 shoots in my belly and I needs a doctor. 

I have no memory how far the hospital was, I just remember what he said and that my mouth never stopped peppering them with questions. they were feuding moonshiners, it was and adventure and evidently the warnings I heard about keeping my mouth shut went right out the open window. We survived, and we have no idea if he survived those 3 shoots in his belly. Daddy dropped them off at the hospital and Its been 65 years since I left Kentucky, and shoots in the belly still lives in my memories.

I do know I loved every moment!

NOTE:

The snips are google maps as the source, and the house and church and both the roads are what they look like today. In 1953 the road had no markings, was full of potholes. 65 years ago the church was a small white church, now it is  a large brick church.

Looking back I can see that living in the state of Kentucky, 1953-1959 was very similar to life in Kentucky during the feud between the Hatfield's and McCoys, an American Feud (1863-1891) 

We lived about an hour away from Harland county, in coal Country. Some of our church members worked in the coal mines.  Click on this link to 1950's Harlan County Kentucky to see the world we lived in.

Joining Yam for Final Friday Feature

The Plain Jane Child 1957

 

I was 13 in these photos, it was 1957 and we lived in Sloans Valley Kentucky My Brother, David was 9. The Christmas tree was the first and only tree we cut down. Our backyard of the Church Parsonage we lived in, was full of Christmas trees. We insisted on the biggest one we could carry in the house.

The kitchen Is me, doing who knows what. The water that came out of the faucets was rainwater caught in a cistern. that was under the back porch. I was abused and made to walk two houses over to haul drinking water from a neighbor well... The basement under the kitchen had a huge tin tub that we heated water and filled for our EVERY SATURDAY night baths. During the snow season we dragged the tub into that kitchen and bathed by the stove.

Another of my chores was to take the slop jars/chamber pots, to our outhouse that was down the hill out the side door to the basement. Our house was built into the side of a hill, the front was level with the dirt road, the back was 3rd story basement.  the house was two stories, one pot for downstairs, one for upstairs which is where my brother and I slept.  My grandmother mailed me a beautiful shiny blue silk bathroom in 1957, and while taking the slop jars out to empty them on the first snow of that year, my feet went out from under me, and you can imagine the rest of the story.

The robe was ruined and thrown away. 

The Tables, sofa, lamps were a gift to us from the church because we had lived in campus housing while in Pineville that came furnished. Daddy went to Clear Creek Baptist Preachers School and got his Highschool diploma and then his college diploma.

Why my brother is sawing wood in the living room, I have no idea. We moved back to Savannah GA in Dec 30, 1959  and I graduated from high school in 1962

And in 1963 I was married in this hoop skirt and in 

David

in 1965 and 1967 David, age 3,above and Daniel age 12 months, below came into my life. 

Daniel

My Dad and his first Grandchild, David. this was in the last part of 1966, just before Dan was born in 1967 Feb 22

all photos are part of the photos found in my brothers closet. I thought they were lost

1953-1954 Kentucky Family Firsts

 

David and Sandra, 1953, first climb up a mountain

In 1952, when I was 8 years old, my dad, went to a revival, along the lines of Billy Graham's revivals, at Bull Street Baptist Church in Savannah, Georgia. His life and ours changed forever when he walked down the aisle and gave himself to Jesus Christ as his Savior. A few months after that he was asked to be the speaker at a small church and accepted the call to become a minister. 

1954 Rock City North Georgia

We were very poor, living in a converted chicken coop in his sisters back yard. His mother had raised 7 children by herself, running a general store and caring for his dad who had a massive stroke when Daddy was in the 8th grade. His dad was in a wheelchair and had to be cared for, and Daddy being the eldest, quit school to help with the store and his dad. This meant he had to get a GED high school diploma and go through the seminary to become a licensed minister. There were not many seminaries that would accept students without a high school diploma. someone told Daddy about Clear Creek Baptist Preachers School in Pineville, Kentucky. They would let him get his high school diploma while in Seminary training. My grandfather you saw in yesterday's photos died in a car accident at the beginning of 1953 and the insurance check to my mother was 10,000 dollars. A lot of money in 1952. The money she received lasted the entire five years we were in Kentucky with enough to move us back to Savannah, when he was called to pastor a church there. Daddy was pastor of Dewitt Baptist Church, Pineville Kentucky and Sloans Valley Baptist Church, Somerset, Kentucky.

some this story is under the label Appalachian Mountain Preacher.

These Photos are all that is left of our five years living in Kentucky. 

First frozen waterfall 1953

1st Mountain 1953

1953 Balonga and Mayo and white bread sandwiches Picnic on side of a mountain 

1954 Sandra, David, Daddy

Sandra, 1953, roadside Motel cabin. Daddy called them Mirror Courts, because we stayed in one that was named that. we traveled from KY to GA off and on from 1953 to Dec 1959 

SNOW! never seen before 1953.

1954 Rock City NC Sandra and David

Daddy Sandra, David 1954 rock City

First creek with rocks 1953 Daddy, David and Sandra. Daddy made a whirly gig boat and we watched it float away in the small waterfall.

Two Potties In the House

 

I took this photo at the Historical Village about 10 years ago.

 I have been Blessed with bathrooms in my lifetime.

After chatting with a friend who lives with only one bathroom, I decided to

chat about bathrooms.

1944-1952, one bathroom

1953-1956 2 bathrooms

1955-1959 1 Outhouse. down a hill about 40 feet. Butt it did have 2 holes. 😋

1959 to 1963 2 adults, 2 teens, One Bathroom

1964 til now, 2 bathrooms

On the lighter side, below is a rest room I almost forgot.

source - google images

Daddy bought a brand new 1953 Pontiac and we moved to Kentucky, a 12-hour drive from my hometown in Savannah. We stayed there until Jan of 1960 and moved back to Savannah.

We spent HOURS in this car. 12-hour trips, and Daddy's first church was an hour of winding mountain roads from our home, we went there twice a week.

I was always jealous because my dad and brother could wander out into the woods and use whatever they wanted. 

MY bathroom was the two back doors opened to shield me from any traffic.

Yes, I could have gone out into the woods but refused because of 

snakes, bears, spiders, mountain lions, moon shiners that might kidnap me!

Are you picking up what I am putting down?

Fear made me use the car door potty.

Good news is back then traffic was zero.

I am sure Mother, and Daddy discussed behind my back letting the Moonshiners 

kidnap me as an OPTION!

We are a Two Potty Household and for that, I am Thankful. How many do you have?

Have you ever had an outhouse?

Definitely NOT Pioneer Woman

MadSnapper MadSpoonRest

Ann at SnapEditScrap and Ginny at Let your Light Shine

Have been showing their Pioneer Woman decor in their homes.

Ann showed her collection of spoon rests.

For those of you who don't know what a spoon rest is,

A spoon rest is a piece of kitchenware that serves as a place to lay spoons and other cooking utensils, to prevent cooking fluids from getting onto countertops, as well as keeping the spoon from touching any contaminants that might be on the counter.

My MadSpoonRest  is made of clear plastic, and when clean, looks like glass.

 It is Made from 70% recycled drink bottle containers made in USA, and came with two very large delish tomatoes in it, for which I paid dearly. 

I have 4 of these in my MadSpoonRest Collection. After seeing Anns's red polka dots, I briefly considered painting mine, but did not have time due to taking photos and creating a post.

The spoon was my mothers and is as old as I am and has lived in Kentucky, Georgia, and is now retired in Florida. 

 Tell us what you have that you reuse in your home or if you have a spoon rest. I love recycle/reuse becasue it saves our planet and saves me money.

Clear Creek Road Memory Flash

I have been a member of Kindle Unlimited on Amazon for more than 3 years.

 Unlimited books for 9.99 a month. I read a LOT.  

2 or more books per week. I read every day of my life and have since I was 5 years old.

I started a new series, Tracy Crosswhite, by Robert DuGoni.

Book 3, In The Clearing,  page 3 excerpt below

The words Clear Creek Road caused an instant Memory Flash.

I laid the kindle down and walked to my  desktop PC, opened Google Maps and found  Clear Creek Road in Pineville Kentucky.

 I lived there with my parents from age 10 to 13. So many happy memories.

With the help of Google Earth I traveled the streets of Pineville looking at all the old buildings and then I went out to the school where my dad went to school and I drove along Clear Creek Road.

I found the place where our house used to be but is no more in his now apartments and I looked at the creek that we used to play in and I looked at the little tributary that my brother used to build damns to catch crawdads, in order to chase me with them.

I came out of a Google Earth Fog one hour later, at 3:30 PM and realized I had forgotten to feed big boy at 3.  

 An HOUR of my day, disappeared into the past. .. 

sometimes when reading, I get up to SEE what they are describing, sometimes they play a song in the book and I come find it by the person they are listening to.. 

It can be a building, a road, a town, a country that I never heard of... Can anyone relate??? 

Have you done this?

Another Kentucky Story

Photo from Google Images, street mongrel

UPDATE on Jakes vet visit , we paid about the same as the former vet, he is doing well for his age, we did not connect with the vet, but loved the tech ladies.  Jake is a mongrel. We have a passion for mongrels and have loved four (see tabs above) in our 33 years together. We could tell This vet's heart did not melt when he saw Jake, unlike ourformer vet's heart melted. He is a good vet and the office is efficient and pleasant and Jake now has a new Doctor. More on Jake coming soon.

Define Mongrel....A mongrel, is a mixed-breed dog or mutt is a dog that does not belong to one officially recognized breed and is not the result of intentional breeding. quote from Wikipedia

At 8 years old, I chose a dog much like the one above from the humane society. Mother said why do you want THAT dog? look at this one and this one. No! I want this one... Why? Because he is ugly and no one else will want him. He was ugly, the one above is beautiful to me. I named him Sticky Baby, something to do with syrup and pancakes.

In 1955, Daddy was still in school at Clear Creek Baptist Preachers school, which allowed him to finish high school and get his degree. He was still pastor at the church mentioned in prior post.

We lived on campus.     The rules said NO PETS!     There were Strays from the mountains surrounding us.

Guess who sneaked around and fed the stray that looks like the one above, Exactly like the one above. I named her Ginger. A few weeks after she started hanging around we got up to find FIVE PUPPIES..... I fed them all. they got big enough to be noticed.

Daddy was called into the deans office and reminded of the NO PETS policy on campus. The dean was told they were NOT OUR DOGS.

The dean called the animal control. They came and gathered all the stray's, about 10 of them including my 6 strays.
In my infinite wisdom, I told the DEANS twin sons that their dad had locked up all the dogs in their garage and the truck was coming to take them away.    They will KILL them I sobbed...

The next thing I knew I was in trouble for Breaking Out the Strays.. It seems someone took the bar off the garage door and LET THE DOGS OUT!  ( I may have stood and watched the breakout 😊)

But Daddy, I didn't do it. the twins did it.  The dogs stayed. They lived on scraps moving from house to house and I loved them all. I had the dogs but did not have the dogs, no vets were needed.

In 1956 daddy graduated and his new church was 90 miles away and when we moved to Sloans Valley, we took Brownie and Blackie with us, two of the puppies. I don't remember why it was those two.
The thing is they wreaked havoc from the day we moved in. Half grown, they gathered newspapers and shredded them, they turned over trash, they went on peoples porches and removed feather pillows from the railings and RIPPED and rained a snowstorm of white feathers from their front porch to ours. I was almost 13and thought what is the big deal?

A few weeks after the feather fiasco, Mother and Daddy forced me to ride 12 hours in our 1953 Pontiac back to Savannah, Georgia to visit family...
When we returned home to Sloan's Valley a week later, Blackie and Brownie were no where to be found. I WAS TOLD they must have run away.....

I have often wondered if daddy asked, or paid someone to get rid of the dogs OR if they did it without him knowing. I always and to this day believe he was the instigator of the disappearing pups, but he never admitted it. I DO STILL BELIEVE they did NOT run away!!!

Happy Mothers in Heaven

My mother t And Me the year she had me 1944...

 She married Daddy on her 18th birthday, Sept. 22, 1943 and I came along on Sept 5, 1944,and 17 days later she  turned 19.

Life was hard, the war was raging, food was scarce, so was money.

I like to picture her looking this way, holding me looking this way.

Fond Memories, include Mothers peals of laughter as she slid down a Kentucky Mountains side, with her butt as the sled, in blankets of fall leaves, I was 12 and she was OLD, or so I thought, she was 31.

As she stood at the bottom of that mountain, in the first snow we had ever seen, the one we climbed up and over to get to school.
She was Laughing like crazy as my brave brother slid on a piece of  linoleum flooring, because we had no money for a sled.. I in my fear of everything, refused to slide.

We had never seen Icicles, 3 feet long, she took photos, but they are in my grandmothers hope chest in Georgia.
She delighted in any, all and everything, from tiny shells to giant sized boulders.

The funniest memory is MY mother who had NEVER in her Whole life, at age 60 said her first and only curse word.
Bob and I were in Savannah, to go to my Dad's brothers 50th anniversary, about 90 miles away. My brother and his family were to meet us there.
The phone rang, and my SIL said, I have the gift but we are not coming, David has decided he is NOT going. Mother said let me talk to him... He refused to agree to go.. she said....
David, you are a Jackass....
We all laughed ourselves silly and still do that she was so upset she cursed.
The Jackass did NOT meet us there, she loved him anyway. Did not get angry, just missed seeing them.
That is who and what my mother was...

Kentucky, how I loved you

all photos from internet

The above home looks just like the one where I was kicked by a mule while trying to PLATT its tail. The home had 26 children, 5 sets of twins, and to many grandchildren for me to remember. The family would not fit in the lens of my mothers old Brownie camera. The fondest memory of that home was the table on the back porch COVERED in pies and cakes and deserts. the biggest bowl of banana pudding ever made. Other bowls of rice pudding and tapioca pudding. OH MY

We moved to KY from GA in 1953. My dad's first church that he pastored was in DeWitt Ky.
The pay was almost NOTHING... think 30.00 per month.

 I have never missed a meal and never been hungry. the small church had what they called a 'pounding' once a month.  each family brought a pound of food many brought more than a pound. huge blocks of cheese, homemade butter, fruits/veggies, potatoes and bags of sugar and flour, not 5 pounds but the old sacks of them, that mother used the bags for aprons and wash clothes. the tires went bad on daddy's car, they passed a hat around and bought new tires. each sunday we went home with a different family after church, and stayed there until evening service. cows and pigs and chickens and horses and apple trees, oh my.... I was 10 and thought it was paradise. most of the men worked the coal mines or the railroad, the homes were what we call shacks now, but to me they were mansions of love.......
I was 20 miles from this Harlan County Ky the photos on this pinterest account show what it looked like when I moved there in 1953.

One Sunday we went home with my favorite family, because they had a daughter my age and teen BOYS to drool over, that shot me with milk from the cows.

We were 12 years old, and my friend wanted to bake a cake for the Pastor. When the cake was cut, it had a different taste. Seems she used corn meal in place of flour. The icing on the cake made it almost edible... and cause lots of laughter.

 when we drove through Flat Lick... the name put me and my brother into fits of giggles

By The Marks

The happiest years of my life were spent in Pineville and DeWitt Kentucky, I was born in Savannah Ga, and spent the first 9 years in Ga, from then until age 15, in Ky and back to the Savannah. Born in the Bible belt and child to a Baptist Preacher, this is the sound of the music I heard... I have not heard this one before today. I listen to Bluegrass on the way to Wal-Mart, and the words and harmony  grabbed me.

When I cross over
I will shout and sing
I will know my savior
By the mark where the
Nails have been
By the mark where the
Nails have been
By the sign upon his precious skin
I will know my savior

When I come to him
By the mark where the
Nails have been
A man of riches
May claim a crown of jewels
But the king of heaven
Can be told from the
Prince of fools
By the mark where the
Nails have been
By the sign upon his precious skin
I will know my savior
When I come to him
By the mark where the
Nails have been
On Calvary's Mountain
Where they made him suffer so
All my sin was paid for
A long, long time ago
By the mark where the
Nails have been
By the sign upon his precious skin
I will know my savior
When I come to him
By the mark where the
Nails have been

In Memory of Daddy

 In Memory of my Dad, Charles F. McCall born Oct 21, 1913 - July 5, 2006

Precious Memories was one of his favorites and the song he chose for his Mothers funeral in 1959.
to read  his story go on Appalachian Mountain Preacher

Appalachian Mountan Preacher

In the last part of the year in 1952, my Dad and Mother, brother and I moved from Savannah, Georgia to Clear Creek, KY for daddy to attend Clear Creek Mountain Bible School.  We lived in the shadow of Pine Mountain and drove long winding, switchback roads to Pineville, Ky for shopping.

Above is my dad in 1959 as he looked as pastor of Sloans Valley Baptist Church, Sloans Valley Ky. Daddy graduated in 1957 from the Bible school and we left DeWitt Baptist Church that he had pastored while attending school and went to Sloans Valley.

Last week by blog friends George and Betsy were visitng Pine Mountain State Park and they took the time to go find my childhood home and email me photos.

ALL PHOTOS TODAY were taken by  Besty, Just for ME!

Thank you Betsy the photos that have are the pilot light of my memories of a wonderful childhood in the Applachian Mountains of Kentucky.

The name of the school is now changed. In the early 50's  it was called Preachers School. The school gave preachers called to the ministry and had not finished  high school and could not attend seminary's, the chance to get their high school diploma while they worked on their seminary classes. Daddy, born 1913, quit school in 8th grade due to his father having a stroke and his mother had 7 children and a man in a wheel chair to care for. He became the man of the house in 1927.

The odd thing is, all the buildings look exactly like they did more than 50 years ago. I recieved my first kiss in the above building. At that time it was a reccreation hall. I was 13 so it was not that much of a kiss, but I still remember it.

As I looked through all the photos Betsy sent to me, the tears of joyful memories poured down my face. This is Kelly Hall and where they attended classes and we build snow forts on that lawn

The above photo is the way my brother and I looked as we walked over this bridge. (oops! make that the way we looked when HE walked accross this bridge, I went the long way round)

More happy memories waited on me when I found this song on Blind Pig and The Acorn blog post about Shape Note singing and  memories of my dad baptizing people in the river in Kentucky in the 50"s flooded my soul. I found the video on YouTube and it's perfect. I learned Shape Note Singing in Kentucky and did not even know what it was until now.
These photos taken by a friend truly prove the saying.

"photos are the pilot light of memories"

Thank you to my blog friends for all these sweet memories.