Multiple Heartbreaks

I was born and spent my first eight years in Dayton, Ohio. Both my mother and my father had been born in eastern Kentucky but had ended up in Dayton where my brother and I were born. I had several other Kentucky kinfolk around me; many of them had moved out of rural Kentucky to Dayton to find work.

So my family lived there in Dayton but Dad’s parents still lived on Anglin Branch in Owsley County, Kentucky. As often as possible, my parents would load my brother and I into the car and we would go down to Kentucky to visit Grandpa and Grandma.

Those visits were like adventures to my brother and I. Going to visit them was like we were traveling back in time. Grandma and Grandpa had electricity, but they didn’t have indoor facilities. There was a faucet at a kitchen sink, but that water was used for washing dishes. Grandma drew crisp clear water from a well just off of the back porch to drink and cook with. She poured it into a metal bucket that held a communal dipper and everyone drank from that dipper.

Bathing usually entailed a sponge bath from a metal dishpan filled with warm water, a washcloth, and a bar of soap. I remember that they used Camay soap and there was a little cameo embossed into the bar. The big washtub would have to be pulled out into the middle of the kitchen floor and filled with warm water if the sponge bath wasn’t enough.

You had to walk down the lane to the outhouse to take care of your business. There an old Sears and Roebuck catalog replaced Charmin. At night, when it was dark and no telling what critters you might run into along the path to the outhouse, a large empty metal lard stand could be slid from beneath the metal springs of the bedstead. I can close my eyes and almost hear the music of pee hitting the bottom of that tin. The strangest things can trigger the sweetest of memories!

Grandpa and Grandma raised pretty much what they needed to survive. They had a big garden, they raised chickens for meat and eggs, they had a cow for dairy products, hogs for pork, fruit and nut trees, and a mule to help plow the garden. From these sources they didn’t just survive, they thrived on food that they raised and prepared with their own hands.

 

For years, really up until about ten or so years ago, I knew that my dad had three brothers and three sisters. I had grown up knowing those aunts and uncles and their families. I never knew that Grandma and Grandpa had had four other babies who had died before they were even a year old.

Their firstborn had not been my Uncle Dale as I had thought, but a baby boy that they had named Paul. Paul had lived not even two months. He left little mark in this world, save a certificate in a record keeper’s drawer, a name carved on a small stone, and a hole in his parents’ hearts. He was Grandpa and Grandma’s first baby and I cannot imagination the pain that they must have felt when the joyful anticipation of their first child’s birth was replaced by the gut-wrenching sorrow of his loss.

 
                                                      

In 1923, less than a year after the loss of Paul, Grandma and Grandpa had another son, my Uncle Dale. Their third born son followed in 1925 and like Paul, he lived less than two months. He left a record of birth, a record of death coldly stating that he had been “found dead in bed”, and another small stone with his name etched upon it. He also left tears running down the cheeks of his parents. Even that carved name, Glen Smith, would not survive. Thoughtless young boys with slingshots would erase his name with their stones. 

Glen’s birth and death were followed by the births of my Aunt Hortense, Aunt Carmen, Aunt Davilee, and Uncle Wallace. They, like Uncle Dale would live to have families of their own, cousins who I would grow up knowing.

Their eighth child was born in 1936 and was a little girl. I don’t know how long she lived as I have found no death certificate. She left a record of birth, her name Wanda Smith carved in stone, broken hearts and vague memories in the minds of older siblings. Her stone, as did that of her brother Glen, became a target for slingshot wielding boys. It no longer serves as proof that she did indeed pass through this world. 

My father was the ninth child of Grandpa and Grandma and was born in 1937. Their tenth child was a baby girl named Janie Joyce, born in 1940. She lived nearly ten months and left more records in a drawer and another stone carved with her name. I was excited when I found her on the 1940 census; she wasn’t here long, but the world has a record that she once lived! And because she lived for nearly ten months, she left more memories to impress themselves upon the minds of older siblings, and more broken hearts 

Grandpa and Grandma’s last child was my Uncle Gayle and he was born in 1944. His family would live with Grandpa and Grandma for a while so I would see them whenever we visited. My cousins, my brother, and I would catch crawdaddies in the creek during the day and lightning bugs from the yard at night.

And up until just a few years ago, I never knew about the heartache that Grandpa and Grandma had known. Since finding out, I’ve heard of how Nancy would ride a mule to the home of her mother Rhoda every Sunday. She would walk up to the little graveyard on the hill behind Rhoda’s house where her babies were buried. Perhaps she found some kind of solace in visiting, in remembering that these babes did indeed pass through this world. They were here so briefly that those graves may have served as proof that they were not just dreams.

I never knew about these babes when as a child I visited my grandparents, Dave and Nancy Middleton Smith. Knowing about them now makes me tear at the thought of the sorrow these gentle folks had to bear. And I am revisited by a memory of my grandma making butter by rocking a gallon jar filled with cream over her knee. I wonder if while rocking that jar, she didn’t think about those four babes she had rocked so briefly all those years before.

Larger than Life

                                     Harlan County, Kentucky


My great-grandpa Calvin James Middleton was born on February 14, 1875, in rugged Harlan County, Kentucky. He was born to Benjamin Franklin and Sarah “Sallie” Blevins Middleton. His father Benjamin had fought for the Confederacy during the Civil War and according to his widow when filing for his Civil War pension, he had been at Appomattox Court House when the war closed.                                               

Benjamin Franklin Middleton

  

                             Sarah "Sallie" Blevins Middleton

Calvin was born in a wild mountain area a few years after the close of the war, but the war had left lingering resentments. Blood feuds to rival the famous Hatfield and McCoy feud were not an uncommon occurrence. Three of the brothers of Calvin’s father had been killed, one had been left “crippled” and two of his brother-in-laws had been shot down dead in the Howard-Turner feud. Calvin was born in an untamed area during untamed times and he seemed untamed enough himself to fit right in. 

                                    Harlan County, Kentucky

In 1895, Calvin would wed another Harlan County native, Rhoda King, at the home of her parents. The couple lived there in Harlan County for several years and all of their children, save their last, was born there.

Now, Calvin and Rhoda lived and farmed land on Yocum Creek in Harlan while raising a family of seven young’uns. That was no easy way of life, but it was the way of life that most of the folks Calvin and Rhoda knew experienced. It was just to be expected.

                            Calvin and Rhoda King Middleton 

                                 and some of their children

Calvin’s occupation was listed as farmer on all of the censuses I have seen, but family members and folks in the area say that he was also a Baptist preacher. He did not have his own church, rather he traveled a circuit. One Sunday, he would preach in one church. The next Sunday, he would travel to a different church. He would make the rounds of the churches he preached at and when a round was completed, he would start all over. One of his granddaughters, Ms. Leola, says that often during the week, he would travel to places and hold revivals. She says that he could be gone quite long for his preaching at his revivals. 

Calvin Middleton

Calvin did not make a living or any money from his preaching. A thankful family might let him stay in their home while he was riding the circuit. A family might invite him to their home for a meal. They might offer him a jar of their family’s special preserves or apple butter. Calvin might be given a still wearable pair of britches that the family’s kids had outgrown but that might fit one of Calvin’s young’uns.                            

                                          Calvin Middleton


Now, Ms. Leola, my dad, his grandson, and other family members have told me that Calvin had another side occupation. They tell me that when the local law was, according to what they have heard, too chicken to go after a fugitive themselves, they would call on Calvin. They would deputize him and then Calvin would go off after the fugitive.

Now, Calvin would return sometime later with the fugitive. Hopefully, the fugitive would be able to walk into the jail on his own two feet. Unfortunately, at times, he would have to be carried into the local undertaker’s place. I am certain that Calvin tried his best to bring back the fugitive alive, but sometimes the fugitive would just not cooperate.

Now, Calvin had helped the local law apprehend fleeing fugitives many times and back in this time period, Harlan could be a pretty rowdy place. Most folks had guns, they knew how to use them, and they were not loathe to do so. Calvin’s family and friends began to fear for the safety of Calvin and his family. Several folks recommended to him that he move away from Harlan for his family’s safety.

Sometime after 1918 and before 1920, Calvin’s family moved west to Clay County, Kentucky. They lived in Clay, but were very close to the Owsley County border. It is here that Rhoda and Calvin would have their last child, a daughter Fern. Sometime later when Fern was growing up, Calvin and Rhoda would separate. No one is for certain why, but Ms. Leola thought that perhaps Rhoda was a little less strict with Fern than Calvin thought they needed to be. That is a guess though and no one really knows. 

                             Calvin and Rhoda King Middleton

Ms. Leola says that Calvin would return to Harlan several times over the years after their move. He still had family in the area and I imagine that he was probably preaching, holding revivals or perhaps he was even being deputized still. She says that he could be gone for several days.

                                Two of Calvin's sisters in front;
                           his brother-in-law and Calvin in back

Calvin did not tolerate orneriness in his new home any better than he had back in Harlan. Ms. Leola remembers that there was a church in the area that was pretty much being ruined by a bunch of ruffians. She says that a Sheriff Brewer was even shot through the church window while attending the church.

Calvin decided that this was just not acceptable. He went to the church and told them that he was gonna take up the preaching. He told them that he would be preaching and he told them that if anything bad happened, the law was not gonna be called. He told them that he, himself would take care of it.

His reputation must have preceded him. Calvin preached the service the next Sunday and his Ms. Leola was told that you could have heard a pin drop. It seems that the ruffians may have been scared straight and the church knew peace again.

Sometime after all of this happened, Ms Leola, who had just married, heard her husband talking to one of his cousins. Her husband’s cousin was from Harlan and was talking about some mean old preacher man who had killed several people in the line of duty while deputized.

Her husband asked if this mean old preacher man’s name was Calvin Middleton and his cousin told him that it was. He laughed and told his cousin that Calvin’s granddaughter was his new wife! Well, talk of the mean old preacher man ceased. I do not know if that was out of respect for his granddaughter or due to the fact that the cousin could not be sure how far the apple had fallen from the tree!

Now, most of the info that I have about my great grandfather was relayed to me by his granddaughter, Ms. Leola. Ms. Leola loved and admired Calvin so very much. She has told me that she reckons that she has never known a person as smart as Pap. She tells me that he would make up stories and even poems. 

                      Calvin Middleton and his brother-in-law

Ms. Leola has told me that sometimes Calvin would be sitting very quietly for some minutes. After a while, he would throw his head back in laughter. Ms. Leola would say; “Pap, what you laughing at?” He would answer that he was working on something and he would tell her when it was finished. After a while, he would tell her that he was finished and recite off a poem that he had just made up. She still recalls parts of those poems. Unfortunately, he didn’t write them down. He just recited them to her so she relies on her memory to relay the parts she recalls.

Sometime in the past, Ms. Leola had written my dad a letter in which she had tried to remember some of Calvin’s poems and wrote them down. She could not remember all of them. She told Dad that maybe he could make something up and finish them out. Well, Dad didn’t do that, so I decided that I would give it a shot. I told Ms Leola that I remember several years back Natalie Cole did a duet with her father Nat King Cole after he had already passed on. Older recordings were combined with newer recordings to look like it was real. Ms. Leola remembered that too. She also mentioned that Hank Williams Junior had done something similar with a Hank Williams recording.

So this is my family’s own collaboration between the past, my great-grandpa Calvin’s words, and the present, my words that fill in for his words that have been forgotten. It concerns a ruckus that took place at the Anglin Church house. It seems that a rumor had gotten started. Great-grandpa Calvin Middleton supposedly had said something to a Preacher Sasser concerning a Bass Huff and perhaps somehow involving tithing. Bass Huff was the preacher at Anglin church. Preacher Sasser was from another church nearby.

Well, Preacher Bass got mad at Brother Middleton. The congregation scheduled a special meeting at the church house to clear everything up. Preacher Sasser came to the meeting to tell that Calvin had not said any such thing to him. Ms. Leola says that Preacher Bass had wanted to get rid of Calvin from the congregation, but Preacher Huff ended up losing his job over the ruckus. Myrtle was Preacher Huff's wife.

Ms Leola could not remember the first part of Calvin’s poem, so I tried to finesse the details into a poem of sorts. It is followed by the part Pap wrote that Ms. Leola can recall.

My part:

Like so often happens, the ruckus started in a "he said/she said" kind of way.
It remained to be seen, whether the truth would know the light of day.
Well, Brother Calvin had supposedly told Preacher Sasser something concernin’ Preacher Huff.
Preacher Huff didn’t take it lightly, in fact, he took it kinda rough.
But Brother Calvin leavin’ the congregation might appease him just enough,
‘Cause you see, it seems that the preacher had worked himself into quite a huff!
Well, to clear the confusion, a meetin’ was called at Anglin Church.
Hopefully, when the dust cleared, no one would be left standin’ in the lurch.
Folks went to the meetin’; Preacher Sasser, Brother Calvin, Columbus his son,
Hugh Edwards, Doc Byrd, Brother Bass Huff; arrivin’ one by one.
Anticipatin’ trouble, Calvin carried a half-empty pint bottle in his pocket.
If it got too heated, that bottle could whip out and tap a noggin quick as a rocket!
Calvin’s son Fred rode a horse to a neighbor’s house also expectin’ trouble.
He borrowed himself a pistol and returned to the church house on the double!
As Fred arrived, he passed Hortense Smith and a couple of her friends outside.
He shouted, “Wanna see the roof blown off the church house?” as he brandished his pistol atop his ride!
Hortense fainted straight away, witherin’ to the ground,
As outside the church house her friends gathered ‘round.
Meanwhile inside the church house, tensions were growin’ pretty thick.
Brother Edwards looked like he might hit Calv, but Calv’s bottle was ready should he need it quick!
And Brother Bass jumped to the pulpit, pullin’ out a blade;
Well, Columbus strode toward the pulpit pullin’ out a Bowie, and Bass’ bluster sure did fade!
Huff said hang on Brother Columbus, I’m just gonna cut me a chew.
Columbus stared at him coldly, sayin’ “ Brother Bass, I chew tobacco too!”
Well I suppose that Preacher Sasser was finally given a chance to talk. And when the dust finally settled, Calvin would stay. Huff would be the one to walk! Ashamed to take the main road................

Calvin’s part:
Bass Huff slipped up through the cornfield til he got to the Anglin hill.
He said I wouldn’t had this to die in my hands for a hundred dollar bill.
He went on over to Myrtle’s house. She said Bass, what’s this about?
He said I told every lie I could tell, but I didn’t get Middleton out.
Myrtle said Bass I asked you not to go over there and I wrote it on the wall.
Our free will offerin will be cut out, and the calf is sure to bawl. 

                            Inside the Anglin Meeting House

                   Son Columbus, daughter Fern, Rhoda and Calvin

Ms. Leola speaks so glowingly of Calvin that I have often wondered if there was a bit of hero worship going on that was making her memories of Pap a bit larger than life. I recorded all of her memories to share with my family, just the same, but I couldn’t help but wonder if her deep admiration for Pap was making him into a kind of heroic family legend.

I used to wonder about this, but one of my cousins shared with me a description of a trial that involved Great Grandpa Calvin. It follows: 

“Calvin Middleton Trial Date:14-15 May 1897 Hon. H.R. Thompson, Circuit Judge Harlan County, Kentucky On the 14th day of May 1897 Calvin Middleton of Harlan County, Kentucky was called to testify in the matter of the shooting of Ronald Haas. Mr Middleton was not placed under arrest because of the number of witnesses who stated that Mr Middleton had acted in self-defense. There are several references to Calvin Middleton being called on by Sheriff Peters of Harlan County, Kentucky to go with him in times of trouble. Calvin Middleton was called on to give testimony on several occasions during these events. On or about the 2nd day of May, Sheriff Peters found Calvin Middleton in the area of Turner Creek just east of Dizney, Ky. He told Calvin that his cousin had been murdered by Ronald Haas and that Mr Haas had boarded the train in an attempt to make an excape. He asked Calvin to ride by horseback and try to beat the train to the town of Dizney and detain Mr Haas. Sheriff Peters would gather a posse and be behind him. Calvin Middleton and two other men rode along the Yocum Creek and beat the train arriving in Dizney. Calvin Middleton boarded the train and Mr Haas was sitting beside another man. Mr Haas saw Mr Middleton and drew a pistol and dove to the floor. Mr Middleton took cover behind a seat and told Mr Haas to surrender. Mr Haas fired one shot and stood up and ran to the back of the car, exiting. Calvin testified that he didn't return fire for fear of hitting other people riding in the car, Mr Middleton then exited at the end of the car where he had entered and chased Mr Haas to the east. Mr Middleton called several times for Mr Haas to stop and give himself up. Seven people testified that Mr Haas then turned towards Mr Middleton and raised his weapon. Mr Middleton called “Don't do it!” and as Mr Haas raised his weapon to fire, Mr Middleton shot him once in the upper left chest. Mr Haas fell to the ground, pistol still in hand. Mr Middleton walked closer and Mr Haas once again raised his weapon. Mr Middleton fired again, this time striking Mr Haas in the head, killing him instantly. Two witnesses attempted to say that Mr Middleton did not call for Mr Haas to stop and shot the fleeing Mr Haas in the back. A physician's examination clearly shows that Mr Haas was shot from the front. As the judge said in court, the two men claiming this were of “questionable moral character.” Calvin Middleton was cleared on all charges and it was judged that he acted in self defense.”


So, after reading this description, I have decided that perhaps Great Grandpa Calvin may have truly been a bit of a family legend. After all, not many families can lay claim to a poetic, bring’em back dead or alive, mean preacher man!

                                           Calvin Middleton

What Is a Porch?

What is a porch? A porch is a passageway between inside and outside; a kind of middle ground.

A porch can be a grand expanse of wooden planks or a small slab of concrete. It can be covered by a roof of shingles or tin or open to the skies. A porch might be screened in or open to allow the mosquito to buzz around your ear. 

A porch can be a place to seek solitude when a heart is breaking and tears steal down cheeks taking a bit of the pain with them. That pain can be left on the porch alongside umbrellas and muddy shoes.

A porch can be a place to seek company, the company of family and neighbors; a place to hear elders share memories; a place for children to make memories; a place to hear stories of the past while making memories of today and dreaming of tomorrow. 

A porch is just a structure between inside and outside; but a porch can be a passageway in the middle of the past and the present, the present and the future. A porch is a passageway in the middle of reality and magic.

Here are a few of my porch memories.

When I was a child, we spent much of our time outside when the weather permitted. We had no air conditioning so even in the high heat of summer, outside under a shade tree or under the porch roof where any breeze that might stir was better than being inside; especially when any cooking was going on, which it usually was!

I recall sitting on Grandpa and Grandma Smith’s porch in rural Kentucky. I recall feeling like such a big shot when I was given a string with a needle on it to make green bean necklaces with Grandma and Mom. Those necklaces would go up into the attic to dry and sometime later a mess of shuck beans could be enjoyed. Of course, we strung and broke many a wash pan full of beans to can too, but I loved making necklaces! 

I would often sit on the front porch with my grandpa who loved to whittle. He didn’t carve anything into his wood. He just took bigger sticks of cedar and shaved delicate curls away until he had little more than a toothpick. I reckon that he was just so used to doing something that even in his relaxing time his hands had to be busy. 

Grandma would often take her gallon jar filled with cream out on the front porch to sit. There, she would rock that jug over her knee and make magic...some folks call it butter! I reckon that she wasn’t used to idleness either because even in her relaxing time she would make butter or have a lapful of apples to pare or taters to peel.

Grandpa and Grandma’s porch had a tin roof and I loved nothing better than to sit under it during a cooling rain and listen to the music the rain played on the tin. It was after such a rain when mist was hanging over the hills in front of the house that Grandpa told me about his giant friend. He told me that his friend lived up in the hills and when I saw that mist, his giant friend was sitting on his front porch too smoking his pipe. I cannot see “smoke” in the mountains without remembering Grandpa and his giant.

Another porch that I loved to sit on was on the outskirts of Dayton, Ohio and it was on the home of my great-uncle and great-aunt who raised my mom and her youngest brother from when they were children. They were like grandparents to me. 

I recall breaking beans and making green bean necklaces on that porch too but there were other memories also, especially of summer. In the summer, I can recall sitting on that porch waiting for Granny, my great-grandmother who lived with my aunt and uncle, to slice into a big juicy watermelon. Everyone waited in anticipation as Granny’s big butcher knife plunged into that melon. She sliced off pieces handing them out to greedy, eager little hands. Those hands, arms, chins would soon be dripping with juice from the sweetest, tastiest melons I can remember eating! There were plenty of seeds in those melons and we might have a contest to see who could spit them the farthest.

I can also remember waiting in the high heat of summer on that porch for my uncle or some grown-up to return from the root-beer stand up the street with a gallon of cold, sweet root beer. We would all eagerly take our glass and savor each cold, sweet drop.

It was also on that porch while sitting in the porch swing that my cousin and I would argue about who Granny “belonged” to more. My cousin was ten years older than me and she had almost “adopted” me. She would walk a block to our house to pick me up and take me to my aunt and uncle’s house and to Granny all of the time.

Well, she told me that she was closer to Granny because Granny was her grandmother but she was my great-grandmother. I was having none of that. I told her that that must mean that she was just Granny’s granddaughter, but I was her GREAT granddaughter! Everyone knows that great is better than just the usual! 

Now, I don’t have a front porch but I have a back deck. There is a road behind our house and a row of homes across from it. There is also a home to the left of ours but we are at an intersection with a bit of common ground to either side of our house. Our back yard and the common areas are full of trees. In the summer, when the trees are full, I can sit at the table on the deck, look out and imagine that I am in the mountains. There I can hold my little granddaughter Jooniebug in my lap. I can tell her how lovely the sound of rain was on the tin roof of her great-great-grandparents’ home. I can tell her about Great-great-Grandpa’s giant that lives in the hills of Kentucky. I can tell her about waiting for her great-great-great granny to slice open a watermelon on a porch in Ohio. 

So, there are a few porch memories from porches in very different settings. One was in the middle of the country snuggled in hills with a dirt road that snaked a few hundred yards in front of it. You could rarely hear a car coming up that road and you couldn’t see your neighbors.

Another was on the outskirts of Dayton, Ohio where cars drove a few yards in front of you on a regular basis. You could see houses in every direction.

And my deck is on the outskirts of Nashville, Tennessee with houses and cars all around, but fortunately, the trees can let you imagine that you are in the mountains.

I reckon that the porches were different, but what made them the same is the folks that congregated on those porches. They were all simple mountain folks who surely knew how to enjoy the simple things in life; and above all, they knew how to love!

Dreams of a Get-Together

                               Narm and Mandy Moore Allen
                                    holding baby Esther Allen

Esther Allen was born on October 18, 1913 in Clay County, Kentucky. I believe that she was born at the Allen home place on Teges Creek which was named for her Great-great-Grandpa Adoniram “Tedious/Teges” Allen. She was the first child born to Adoniram “Narm” and Mandy Moore Allen.

Esther was born in the fall in the hills of Eastern Kentucky. Her newborn eyes must have been greeted by the loveliness of trees changing from their summer frocks into the scarlet, gold, orange and umber shades of autumn. There was probably a calming sense of slowing down in the air. Many of the summer chores would have been completed for the most part. Shocks of corn may have stood in the field, a visible remnant of the busyness of summer. Oh, her parents would still have had many, many chores to do, but fall seems like a quieter time and the new parents may have had a bit more time to marvel over the perfection of their first baby.

Esther would spend her childhood and on into her twenties there on Teges Creek. She would be joined by a younger brother and three younger sisters in the coming years. She would experience the loss of two grandmothers, her father and Fanny, her youngest sibling there.

     Mandy Moore Allen, Rachel Allen, Nancy Jane Baker Allen, 

               John Allen and Narm Allen, Esther Allen in back

Life on Teges would have been difficult. The family survived by farming their small piece of land and it must have seemed that the list of chores to do was unending. Those chores were not just done by the adults. The children would also have to perform chores appropriate for their ages and their list would increase as they grew older.

The garden spot had to be prepared for planting. Narm would have likely done this with a mule pulling a plow. If a mule and plow were unavailable, the family would have had to scratch up the earth with hand tools.

After the garden spot was worked up, the seeds would have to be planted and they would need to plant a lot to feed the seven family members as well as the animals. They would have to grow enough, not just for now, but for the lean times of winter and early spring. Many of the seeds were likely carefully saved from last year’s crop. The family would have grown corn, beans, potatoes, onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, cabbages, lettuce, peas…

After the plants started growing, the family would have had to spend hours hoeing out the weeds so their crops could not be smothered. This likely seemed like an unending chore in and of itself without even considering other chores. Every row must have seemed to be a long row to hoe for Esther and her siblings; especially when a creek with minnows and crawdads was nearby just begging to be waded.

Finally, after the crops had come in, they would have to be harvested. Some of the harvest would be used to feed the family at the time, but the rest would have to be preserved. Green beans might have been dried to make shuck beans or canned. Tomatoes would have been canned. Corn could have been dried and ground into meal. Corn could be canned or could be made into hominy. Pumpkins and cushaws could be canned or dried for later use. Potatoes, cabbages, apples, and other vegetables could be kept for extended periods in a root cellar or a hole dug into the ground and lined with straw. Produce was pickled; cucumbers, corn, green beans. Cabbage was chopped and made into sauerkraut. Raising and preserving the produce would have been time-consuming and necessary chores.

The family raised animals also: a cow for milk; chickens for eggs and meat; hogs for pork; probably a mule for transportation and help on the farm. Those animals had to be cared for. They had to be fed, eggs gathered, cows milked… In the winter, they would have to make sure to chop a hole in the frozen creek so the animals could drink water.

When the hogs were big enough and the weather cooler, the family would have to slaughter them. The carcass would have to be processed. The family did not have modern refrigeration so they had to keep the meat in other ways. Some of the cuts such as the bacon, ham and shoulders could be smoke-cured or salt or sugar-cured. Other cuts would be ground into sausage and the women would make them into sausage balls, fry them and then put them into jars covered with the grease to preserve for later use. The fat would be rendered into lard and later it might be made into bars of lye soap.

The family would have fruit and nut trees and the fruits from these trees would be harvested and preserved also. The surrounding environment would provide other sustenance for the family: berries; spring greens; medicinal herbs, roots, and barks; wildlife such as squirrels and rabbits to hunt for food.

The family had other chores also. Sacks that animal feed and flour had come in were repurposed into shirts, dresses, aprons… When those items became worn and unmendable, they would be repurposed yet again into quilts to keep the family warm in winter.

Wood had to be chopped, hauled and stacked for the family’s cooking, clothes washing, canning and heating. Every member of the family participated in these chores as to their abilities. Everyone in the family was a “Honey” and everyone had a “Honey do list’ and those chores were non-negotiable as the family’s survival depended upon them.

Esther’s dad Narm died from tuberculosis in 1927 and was buried in nearby Upper Sadler Cemetery on Esther’s mother’s birthday. Two years later, 16-year-old Esther would be the informant for little Fannie’s death from infantile paralysis. She would be buried in Upper Sadler Cemetery also.

                     John Allen and Mandy Moore Allen in front;
                  Rachel Allen, Alta Allen and Esther Allen in back

Mandy began to take in laundry to make a bit of spending money for the family after Narm’s death. Doing laundry back in those times was a difficult chore. I am sure that all of the kids would pitch in to help their mother out with this back-breaking work.

Esther and her younger siblings had non-negotiable chores, but they would have had had some downtime to visit with family and neighbors. I have been told that the family had a battery-operated radio after they became popular and somewhat affordable. Neighbors would come over and they would all listen to the Grand Ole Opry, serials, and the news together.

There was time to make eyes at the cute boy from the next holler over at Sunday go to meeting. There was time to play stickball with the siblings and the neighborhood kids. Many of the neighbors were kinfolk of one kind or another. Those that weren’t related by blood became family by shared experiences. They were a tight-knit community. Neighbors Spurgeon and Emma Murrell would become lifetime close friends to the family over multiple generations.

Esther and her family would likely not be much affected by the Great Depression. They grew much of their sustenance and had little need for much money. Oh, they likely noticed the Depression when coffee and sugar were rationed because those were among the few things that the family could not raise themselves. They would not know the hunger that many folks who lived in cities and could not farm would know.

The Depression did bring about public work programs designed to put unemployed people into jobs for the public good. Esther’s brother John would work in the CCC. He would work on building roads in eastern Kentucky and part of his wages would be sent back to the family to help provide for their needs. Sister Rachel also did some kind of public work although we have no idea of what that would have been.

                          Esther Allen, ??, ??, and Rachel Allen;
                           Mandy Moore Allen in background

In early 1940, Brother John would join the army and would live on a base in Arapahoe, Colorado. The United States had managed to stay out of WWII but after Pearl Harbor in 1941, the US would enter the fray and John would go overseas to fight.

                          Alta Allen, John Allen and Esther Allen

Esther’s sister Rachel would marry Boyd Nolen in 1940. Boyd’s family lived over the hill on Furnace Branch and Rachel would move out of the Allen home and move there. Esther, her mother, and younger sister Alta would remain together there on Teges. The families were just a mule-ride over the ridge apart so they would still see each other often. I am sure that Esther, Mandy, Alta, and Rachel likely wore a path across that hill.

                                 Esther Allen in front; ??, ??,
                                   Rachel Allen Nolen in rear

Rachel and Boyd had their first child, a daughter Loretta in 1941. They would go on to have nine babies in ten years of marriage. Mandy would have several grandbabies and Esther and Alta would have nieces and nephews. I have heard that Esther loved children and loved to dote on her nieces and nephews as well as other neighborhood children.

                    Rachel's children, Esther's nieces and nephews


Sometime in the early to mid-'40s, Esther and Alta would move to Dayton, Ohio in search of work. I am sure that the young girls enjoyed the opportunity to meet new folks and there would be more avenues of entertainment including shopping. Emma Murrell’s daughter Vivian has told me that Esther was always very neatly put together. Her clothes were always clean and neat, her hair was always brushed so nicely and she wore a bit of makeup. I am sure that Esther enjoyed having access to more money for more fashionable clothing and makeup.

                         Esther Allen, a friend, and Alta Allen;
                              The back of this photo said "Three
                                 of the Meanest Girls in Dayton."

Esther’s sister Alta would meet her future husband Olen “Bug” Cantrell, possibly at work and they would marry in 1945. Brother John would be discharged from the Army in the fall of 1945 after fighting in WWII. He would marry Hortense Smith from Owsley County not far from where the Allens lived in Clay County. John and his bride would join his sisters Esther and Alta in Dayton, Ohio.

All three of the siblings and their families would return often to Kentucky to visit their mother Mandy there on Teges and their sister Rachel’s family on Furnace Branch. They would catch up with family and makeover Rachel’s children. I’ve been told that Esther usually had a camera with her and she would always take photos during their get-togethers. I suppose that it is to her that I owe thanks for many of the photos that we from those times.

Now in 1946, Alta and her husband Bug had their first child. Both parents worked at an automobile factory there in Dayton and when they began having children, Mandy would move from Teges to live with Alta and Bug in Dayton. Rachel, Boyd, and their family would move from Furnace Branch to the old Allen home place on Teges.

Alta and her family with Granny, John and his family, and Esther would continue to return to Teges to visit with Rachel as they could. Kentucky cousins would become acquainted with Ohio cousins. Country cousins would become a bit acquainted with the ways of city cousins. One of Rachel’s daughters, Fanny has told me how awed she was by her cousin’s sandals. She had never seen such shoes before and snuck them on her feet to walk around a bit in them before her cousin returned back home.

        

                       Esther Allen with her nephews and niece;
                                 Alta's children and John's son

Sometime in or before 1947, Esther and the family received devastating news. Esther was diagnosed with tuberculosis which was a disease that had wreaked havoc for the family several times in the past. Her father, step-grandfather, aunt, as well as other family members, had died from TB. Not long after the diagnosis, Esther became a resident of Stillwater Tuberculosis Sanatorium in Dayton.

So for roughly the last six years of her life, Esther was confined to Stillwater. Esther who had loved to dress nicely and fix her hair and makeup just so would have no opportunity to go out and so no need to for nice dresses or makeup.

In 1950, Esther would hear the news that her sister Rachel had died from TB back on Teges. Rachel left seven children ranging in age from ten months to nine years for Boyd to raise. He would not be able to keep the family together and Alta would take in the oldest and the baby. The other five children would end up with other family or in children’s homes.

Esther had lost, not only a sister but knowing that TB is what had killed her must have caused Esther to lose hope about her own survival as well.

Esther could have visitors while at the sanatorium. I am not certain what precautions that visiting a TB patient at Stillwater entailed. I have heard some folks say that when they visited a TB patient, the patient had to wear a mask and the visitors had to wear a mask. Social distancing was required. Another person said that the sanatorium where their family member had been had two fences separated by about ten feet. The patient would be on one side of one fence and the visitors on the other side of the other fence and they would converse over the fences.

I am not certain what Stillwater’s policy was but it seems likely that Esther may have seen family members while all wore masks or from a distance. There were no hugs, no gentle touches from the hands of a mother, sister or brother. Children were not allowed to visit patients in normal hospital settings and so they would for certain not be permitted to visit Esther at Stillwater.

John’s wife Hortense was the older sister of my father. John was the uncle of my mother Loretta, the oldest daughter of Rachel who had gone to live with Alta when Rachel had died. Both of my parents, as children, rode with family members when they went to visit with Esther. They would stay in the car and wait while the adults went to visit with Esther. Both recall that Esther’s room was on the second floor of Stillwater and both recall Esther looking down from the window of her room waving to them as they waited in the car.

I can’t imagine how bittersweet it must have been for Esther to see those children and know that she would likely not be able to ever dote on them with hugs, pinched cheeks, and little gifts again. She would never be able to marry and have children of her own to love and hold.

                                Esther in her room at Stillwater

When Esther realized that she would likely not live much longer, she asked her brother John to ask their old neighbor Emma Murrell if Esther could be buried in a little family graveyard there on Emma’s land. Esther said that she knew that as long as Emma was alive that her grave would be cared for.

Esther would die in Stillwater Sanatorium on April 23, 1953. She was not yet forty years old but I reckon that death must have come as a blessing for her. She was free to leave Stillwater and I can just imagine her sister Rachel and other loved ones in Heaven greeting her with embraces that she had surely been hungry for!

Esther’s body returned to Teges to be buried. She had been born there during the splendor of fall and she returned there during the beauty that is spring in the hills. I imagine that there were a few florist arrangements on her grave but nature provided the most beautiful blossoms in the form of dogwood and redbud blooms. And Emma Murrell, just as Esther was certain of, took care of Esther’s grave until her own death years later.

Esther never married. She had no children of her own to leave behind. She did leave behind photos for her future family to cherish. She also left behind at least one letter written to two of Emma Murrell’s children.

                             

Dear Vivian + Corbit,

Will ans your sweet letter was so glad to hear from you.

I am glad you children like to go to school guess it be lonesome when school out but you can go down and play with Loretta is she as mean as ever.

She write me ever week almost poor little Weets She has been sick so much guess that why she didn’t go to school.

I get home sick to see all of you children guess you’ll be big boys + girls when I get to see you again.

Mother said all of you had grown so much how Sylvia and her babies and Bill + Daisy also.

Corbit what are you doing since school out, Does Robert have his dog yet.

So be good and mind your mother, and I bring you a big bag candy some day.

Wouldn’t it be fun for all us to get gether on Sunday with Rachel children and take pictures and play games.

Love Ester

Gee you should see Dale he’s so big and talks like a little man.

I haven’t seen the little baby. So I’d better stop + seal this before I rite a big book.

An Ancestor's Voice

                                     Upper Sadler Cemetery,
                                     Clay County, Kentucky



An Ancestor's Voice

When my heartbeat ceases and my breath's sigh lies still,
Bury me please, on the top of yon' hill,
There on the top of the steep where the crops can't grow,
The earth will welcome my flesh and bones, this, I know,
For where my ma, my pa, and my little babes sleep,
I know this poor body, that ground will welcome and keep.
And at the head of my grave, please place a stone,
With the name and my dates etched thereupon.
And there, when the burdens of living give you pause,
Please visit my grave and remember what was.
Hear the songs of the birds, the rustle of leaves in the breeze,
Let the quiet and solitude fill your heart with ease.
Please walk upon my grave as much as you will,
For it will be a welcome sign that I'm remembered still.
And years from now, when no memory of me lives on,
Perhaps the letters of my name will be etched still in that stone.
And some future descendant will come searching for that name,
Seeking a forebear to joyfully claim.
Perhaps she will search the stones on that hilltop steep,
With her hands from the stones, grass and weeds, she'll sweep.
And she will study stones long weathered and worn,
For who is buried there and dates when they died and were born.
And on my stone, she'll trace shallow letters that once ran so deep,
Glance at the stones markin’ little ones nearby and perhaps gently weep.
She'll know that I was not just a name and a hyphen surrounded by dates,
But a living soul much as herself who was well acquainted with heartaches,
And also with hunger, frustration, pain, and fear,
Contentment, anger, joy, and loss of ones dear.
Perhaps, she will realize that little separates she and I,
Save the passage of time, a heartbeat, and breath's sigh.
And perhaps she will yearn to know of the story of my life,
All of those stories I will gladly share with her in the sweet by and by.

                                       Upper Sadler Cemetery,
                                       Clay County, Kentucky
                                  Grave of Rachel Allen Nolen