Full Circle...and Then Some

I was born in Dayton, Ohio in 1960. When we lived in Ohio, my parents, my brother, and I would travel down to Anglin Branch in Southeastern Kentucky to visit Grandpa and Grandma Smith as often as possible.

In the summer of my eighth year, we moved from Ohio to a farm outside of Wartrace Tennessee. We would then travel up to Anglin Branch to visit Grandpa and Grandma as often as possible. We would visit them there until Grandma and Grandpa moved in with Uncle John and Aunt Hortense’s family in Dayton, Ohio. They moved to Ohio somewhere around 1975.

Now, sometime soon after we had moved to Wartrace in 1968, Dad had gone to the Martin and Price Hardware store in Shelbyville, Tennessee. There he purchased two identical John Primble knives. He gave one of them to his brother, Dale Smith.

Uncle Dale, Aunt Naomi, and Cousin Roger Dale lived about a mile up the road from us in Tennessee. We visited with Uncle Dale’s family fairly often. Uncle Dale drank coffee that had so much sugar in it that it was surely more akin to syrup than coffee. He could squat down like the hind catcher for a baseball team for, it seemed, hours on end.

 

                                                         Uncle Dale stirring his "syrup" 

Uncle Dale was a very forward thinking man. He was stringing television cable from antennas on top of steep hills to homes in rural Southeastern Kentucky nearly as quick as he was running electric to them. Back when televisions were bulky boxes with tubes, he could fix televisions. He and his brother-in-law, Harold Becknell fixed televisions to make a little cash. Uncle Dale and Aunt Naomi owned a skating rink at one time in Island City Kentucky. After moving to Tennessee, he ran a small dairy farm for a while. He worked in maintenance at Eaton Corporation for several years. Later he owned a Vemeer round hay baler business and then a Deutz tractor business. Uncle Dale was a real entrepreneur.

Years before his death, Uncle Dale had even predicted that one day folks would be buying bottles of water at the store like they were buying pop and beer back in the day. I guess that we didn’t really take him seriously, but today, Mom and Dad have to buy every drop of water they drink or cook with because their tap water tastes strongly of chemicals. Most folks probably have bought some bottled water sometime in their lives.

I don’t know what ever became of the knife that Dad gave to Uncle Dale, but one of those John Primble knives purchased by Dad at Martin and Price Hardware in Shelbyville, Tennessee was given to him.

Dad gave the other John Primble knife to Grandpa Smith the next time we visited with him on Anglin. This was sometime soon after we had moved to Tennessee in 1968.

Now, when I imagine Grandpa, I picture him wearing either his bib overalls and a long-sleeved button up shirt or a dickey type shirt and britches. He is also wearing his old felt fedora hat and there is a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. Grandpa Smith loved to play rummy. He also loved to whittle.

 

                                                             Grandpa playing rummy.

                                                           Grandpa in his bib overalls.

 

           Dad sitting on the steps and Grandma Smith sitting on the porch where stories were shared. 

It was while we were sitting out on the front porch with Grandpa whittling aromatic curls of cedar from a stick that he had pulled from the bib of his overalls that he told me of his giant friend. It seems that when mists were hanging in the hillsides, his giant friend who lived nearby was sitting out on his own porch smoking his pipe. That day, those mists dotted the hills and his giant friend was enjoying his pipe.

Still today, when I go to the Smoky Mountains and see all of the mists hanging in the mountains, I imagine that Grandpa’s giant friend is having a family reunion in the Smoky Mountains.

Last week, I visited Mom and Dad. After taking Mom to the grocery and then eating lunch, we sat in the den visiting. After looking around the room at all of their “stuff”, Mom lamented that probably no one would want all of the things they had collected over their lifetimes. Dad said that he was just going to tell folks to take turns picking out knives from his collection of knives. I mentioned that I would love to have any knife that he had that had belonged to Grandpa Smith as I could remember Grandpa sitting on the porch whittling with it.

Dad stood up and left the room. When he came back, he handed me this knife and told me of how he had bought it and another just like it at Martin Price hardware in Shelbyville, Tennessee. One he had given to Uncle Dale and the other he had given to Grandpa Smith sometime soon after we had moved to Tennessee. He said that after Grandpa passed away, Uncle Wallace ended up with the knife. Uncle Wallace then gave it to Dad.

 

 

Dad said that he couldn’t promise that I had seen Grandpa whittle with this same knife, but we figured that since he had given the knife to Grandpa soon after we moved to Tennessee in 1968, and Grandpa didn’t move from Anglin Branch until around 1975, I very well could have remembered Grandpa whittling with that very knife.

I admired the knife, opening and closing the blades and noted how it seemed to have been used more than a bit. I could almost picture Grandpa opening that main blade, and swishing it back and forth across his soap bar-sized, dark gray, whetstone that had a nick along the bottom edge. Then he would pull his stick of cedar from his bib to whittle as he told me a story of a pipe-smoking giant friend who lived nearby in the hills.

I stood and handed the knife back to Dad who asked, “What are you doing? I am giving it to you; don’t you want it?” I hadn’t realized that he was giving it to me now. I hugged him and said “Thank you. Of course, I want it!”

So, this knife came from a hardware store in Shelbyville, Tennessee. It made its way to Anglin Branch Kentucky before making its way with Grandpa to Dayton, Ohio where he and Grandma lived with John and Hortense Smith Allen. When Grandpa passed, it made its way into the hands of Uncle Wallace Smith in Loveland, Ohio. Uncle Wallace then returned it to Donald Smith back in Middle Tennessee.

And now, it belongs to me, April Smith Hajjafar, here in Tennessee. I am not certain who I will pass this treasure on to. I am not certain if it will make its way across the country, or perhaps even the world. I just hope that whoever ends up with it, the owner will know stories of the wonderful Grandpa who once sat on a porch whittling with it as he regaled his granddaughter April with the story of his neighbor. That neighbor just happened to be a giant who happened to smoke a pipe.

Go Team!!!

 

“A team can be defined as a group of people who perform interdependent tasks to work toward accomplishing a common or specific objective.”

When I think of teams, I tend to think of sports teams like the University of Kentucky Wildcats. Both sides of my family have longstanding ties with Kentucky. My Uncle Olen Nolen was offered a basketball scholarship to UK back in the 60s but he enlisted in the Marines instead. So, the Cats hold a special place in my heart and are “my” team.

Unfortunately, several past family members “teamed” up in very dangerous and deadly ways as factions in family feuds. These feuds could have easily rivaled the infamous Hatfield and McCoy clash.

Some family members have belonged to organizations like the Masons, the Odd Fellows, the Daughters of the American Revolution… which I suppose could equate to being teams.

When I think of past family though, I imagine that most of their energy went towards survival with little thought for organizations or competitive teams. Perhaps the young’uns may have had competitions of who could finish hoeing their rows of corn first, or who could finish stringing and breaking their bushel of green beans first. Of course, they would have to do it properly or they would have to lick the calf over.

Otherwise, the teams of importance to my ancestors would have likely been their team of mules. Those mules performed much work, making life easier for my family.

Another type of team was of vast importance to my family members. When I think of past family, I think of memories and stories shared with me by family members and I think of this different kind of team; the team made up of the members of the community. Those community members worked together to ensure the survival of the community. Those community members knew that survival of the community relied upon the individual families making up that community. A kind of symbiosis existed that led to the benefit of all.

I have heard of many examples of past community members helping out other members of the community. These communities were very remote and rural. Physicians were not readily available and folks often relied on remedies recommended by folks knowledgeable in the use of medicinal plants. My own great-grandmother Amanda Moore Allen, after moving away from Kentucky to Dayton, Ohio, would send a medicinal plant list with her son John Allen when he was returning to the area for a visit. He would walk the woods in search of the plants his mother needed for her treatments. Other community women became quite knowledgeable in delivering babies. When an expectant mother’s time came, one of these women would be fetched to assist with the delivery. My great-grandmother Jane Thomas Smith King and several aunts served as midwives in their communities.

Other members of the community would be called upon to perform more faith related healings. Some community members were known to be able to stop bleeding. My great-uncle Columbus Middleton could stop blood by reciting Ezekiel 16:6. My cousin Philip Smith witnessed him stopping an uncontrolled and enduring nosebleed that my grandfather Dave Smith experienced. As soon as Columbus recited the verse, Grandpa’s nose immediately stopped bleeding. Columbus could also wish away warts and taught his niece how to do the same.

The seventh son of a seventh son was thought to have healing powers by some and might be called upon to cure thrush in babies. Some folks were thought to be able to take the fire out of burns. All of these healers were part of the team that made up the community and were called upon when needed.

Some members of the community were skilled as carpenters. They could help their neighbors with their building projects. My Grandpa Boyd Nolen was a very skilled carpenter. He helped his neighbors the Murrells to build a new chicken coop. While he was there, the mailman came by and delivered an official looking letter. The Murrell’s son Robert was off fighting in the Korean War. Fearing the worst, Emma Murrell could not bear to open the letter to read it. She asked Grandpa Boyd if he could read it to her. Unfortunately, Robert had been injured during the war, but thankfully his injuries were not life-threatening and he would be able to return home from the war. Grandpa had started out on the carpentry faction of the community team and ended up on the comfort team.

Members of the community would also work together during the cooler times of late fall when families would slaughter the hogs that they had raised to provide protein for their families. Back in the day, homes did not have electricity and the only refrigeration was that provided by nature. The cool of a root cellar, the crisp water of a spring, or the cold of winter could provide some natural refrigeration but there were no deep freezers where fresh meat could be packaged and stored. Some cuts of meat such as hams, shoulders, side meat, bacon… could be smoked, or salt or sugar cured. Sausage could be formed into balls, cooked, covered in fat, and canned for later use. Other cuts of meat were best fresh. Neighbors would often work together and stagger the slaughtering of their hogs during cool weather. The fresh cuts of meat could be shared amongst those helping. When it came time for the neighbor to slaughter his hog, the favor would be returned and those assisting would receive a portion of fresh meat. In this way of staggering slaughters and sharing the meat, the lack of refrigeration was less of a problem and the community as a whole benefited.

Working as a team could make work less solitary and therefore less tedious. Company could make some chores safer also. If something went wrong, there was someone available to go for help.

In Southeastern Kentucky where many of my relatives lived, small seams of coal were often on the properties of family members. My Grandpa Dave Smith had such a bank of coal on his land, as did his neighbor Levi Allen. Grandpa and Levi would work together when digging coal from their coal banks. Grandpa would help Levi and Levi, in turn would help Grandpa. I am sure that they enjoyed each other’s companionship and should the bank crumble in, there was someone there to help.

Members of a community worked together in several other ways. One community member might own a sorghum mill. That member might set up a sorghum boil off where members of the community could bring their harvested sorghum cane. All of the cane would be juiced and boiled down with the owner of the mill receiving part of the finished product as payment. Another member might own a grain mill or a lumber mill. They might keep a portion of the milled grain or lumber as “payment” for use of the mill.

Members of a community could also provide safe havens for other members of the community. My Grandpa Boyd Nolen was a fine man but when he drank, he could become a different person. When my Grandma Rachel Allen Nolen knew he was drinking, she would gather the children and hurriedly take them to stay with the family of Bill Gross. There they would stay until it was safe for grandma to fetch them back.

Community members helped out other members in need. My Great-grandmother Amanda Moore Allen was widowed with five children. One of her neighbors would bring his mule and plow her garden for her. In return, she would prepare a meal for him to enjoy when he was finished. I imagine that she would share some of the harvest from that garden with his family when it came in also.

In the rural areas where my family lived, some community members would have small stores in their homes. The folks who owned these stores would often allow other community members to purchase things on credit. Money was not plentiful in these rural areas. Most folks were able to raise most of what they required to survive. Coffee, sugar, flour and a few other things had to be bought. The owners of these small stores would extend credit to local families. The bill would be paid when a family’s tobacco money came in, or the family received a payment from a member working for the Civilian Conservation Corps. The owners of these small stores were an important part of the community team.



Community members celebrated happy occasions with others. Women may have come together to make a new quilt for a couple’s wedding bed. A quilt may have been made to welcome a new baby. Celebrations of this kind were brief but welcomed respites from the tedium of unending chores.

Laura Sandlin Edwards was the neighbor of my Smith grandparents. We would often stop to visit Laura and her husband Oscar when we visited with my grandparents. Laura made a small quilt for me when I was a baby. I recall carrying that quilt around with me until it was just threads. Laura would have me stand by her doorframe and mark my height. She had the height of her granddaughter marked there also and she was comparing how we were both growing.

Of course, the lives of past family members were difficult and all occasions were not happy times of celebration. Sorrow and Death visited all too often. During these times, the team that was community stood steadfastly by, offering assistance, comfort, a bite to eat to grieving family. Men would take turns digging graves. Boards would be fashioned into coffins. Women would help to prepare bodies for burial. Neighbors would sit up with the families during wakes. Dishes would be prepared to provide sustenance to a family and community members numbed by grief.

When my Grandma Rachel Allen Nolen died at the age of 34, a neighbor brought his wagon pulled by his mules to carry her pine coffin to the cemetery where she would be buried. Family and neighbors would lift her coffin from the wagon bed and carry it to the grave they had dug. They would lower her body into that grave and each person would throw a handful of earth down upon her coffin, saying their final goodbyes.

Yes, the members of these communities were a team. They were a group of people who performed interdependent tasks to work toward accomplishing common or specific objectives. They had welcomed members into the community. They had celebrated births. They had worked together to ensure that the community had thrived by ensuring that the individual families had thrived.

And in the end, they had offered words of comfort while shedding their own tears at the loss of a member of their team.