My life in appalachia - Music In The Same House

Sometimes there are houses other than our own, other than our parents, grandparents, or family members that feel like home too.

There’s a home just down the road a ways that feels like that to me. It’s on the next side road after ours going towards Brasstown, only it’s on the opposite side of the main road.

I was in 5th grade and Bev was in 3rd grade when we first met each other-drawn together after her family started going to our church. Our parents were already friends and through the years Bev and I have managed to stay best friends and because of that our families have been woven seamlessly together even though were not really family.

Back in the day, there was many an after Sunday night church or Saturday night jam session at Bev’s house. Most of us kids weren’t interested in the music we stayed busy playing in the back bedrooms, only running back and forth to the kitchen when we wanted something to eat or drink.

Last night I sat in that same house and listened to some good music made by the next generation from me and Bev. Somehow I felt like we’d come full circle and most of all I still felt like I was at home in the house down the road just a ways.

Tipper

 

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20 Comments

  1. Sometimes “home” is a feeling, rather than a place. How wonderful the next generation is enjoying the same sense of home among friends!

  2. How lovely that you live near your friend from childhood and are still close. I’ve always known that while we are born into our families by blood, along the way of our lives, we choose friends who become family too.

  3. i had 2 homes that were homes away from home, and both are gone, the one in Savannah was torn down at the same time my parents house was, the state took the houses for a wider road. and my grandmothers house was another home away from home, alas it burned a few years ago. but i do know the feeling. the thing is the friend in Savannah that lived there in thehouse that is gone is still here and when i go to her house, even though it is 15 year old, it is another home because of her.

  4. Tipper,
    How blessed you are to have a best friend living close to you…It seems my friends that I had when a child just kept a’comin and a’goin..movin’ to different places as their Dads changed jobs…One of my very best friends was crippled…and they said she was slow…but she wasn’t…She could play jacks like nobodys biznis’ and color, Lordy that girl could color…and had more colors and color books that I had ever seen…She also had more books than I had ever seen…We would sit and play jacks or color for hours on end…Because she was crippled she could sit with her legs spread off the side…and she could catch that ball and grab them jacks…because of the way she could sit…That used to just pester the heck outta’ me…I would try to set like her so I could get a better grip on the ball and jacks but never could I always ended up getting a cramp about halfway thru the game…she would beat me at it most of the time….I was always overjoyed when I would beat her…but she never wanted to quit, she would just keep on and keep on till she beat the far outta’ me….LOL
    After she moved she wrote me a letter. I never expected to get such a letter…her Mother taught her to write…and boy could she write a letter…Her penmanship was wonderful even with a crooked arm with scars on it…She was such a good friend with a keep on with your keepin’ own attitude…I learned more from her than I did in 5th grade that year…more self confidence etc…
    Great post, Tipper….
    What goes around comes around and it sure great to see the children playing and singing like their parents…

  5. Tipper,
    Most all of my family members that
    did music once have done gone to be with the Lord. But I do enjoy
    going to your family gigs from
    time to time. I always feel the
    love and appreciation you all share with folks, just like family. Hope you all are having
    fun today at Martins’ Creek…Ken

  6. Your words made me instantly recall a great old poem, “The House by the Side of the Road.”
    Though the poem touches on some other things, the basic meaning is, “Let me be a Friend to Man”, and that epitomizes who you are, Tipper.

  7. this instantly brought back such a rush of memories – going to good friend’s houses after church- playing in the long summer evenings inside and out while the grown-ups sat in the living room playing cards or visiting and the children roamed through to the kitchen to grab something to eat and then headed back outside or to the bedroom – just like you talked about!

  8. being blessed with homes away from home I find it so encouraging and hopeful that next generations have that privilege and connection as well — it’s missing in far too many communities today.

  9. Such good memories for you and now to watch your children making more. It’s great to see young people sitting around making music and having a good time.

  10. My “other home” away from my house was my Grandpa Bud Collins’s home, “over the hill and through the woods and across the creek” from our house. We rode the wagon there if we had corn to take to Grandpa’s mill to be ground, or a coop of chickens to trade (barter) for what we needed at his country store. But just to go and visit in his house, where my mother’s (old-maid?) sisters, Ethel and Avery, and her bachelor brother, Esley, lived. In the summertime, I would get to sleep in the “attic” room, and I always wanted it to rain when I was in bed up there, because the raindrops played such beautiful music on Grandpa’s tin roof. Grandpa died when I was 11 years of age, but it was one of my favorite places to go. If I was “good” when I was there, he would reward me with a chocolate drop or piece of orange slice candy from the store when someone rang the bell on the store porch, indicating they needed to get something from the store. When he died, there was great mourning and a large crowd at his funeral because Grandpa was an important and beloved man in our community. We also went there on Saturday nights to gather around his radio to hear the “Grand Ole Opry.” He had the only radio for miles around when I was a child!

  11. Tipper, that’s a wonderful experience to have. To see your children sit in the same seats you sat it, so to speak.
    That is so much of what our Appalachian heritage is about, passing things from generation to generation. So much of life now lacks that connection.

  12. Hi Tipper,
    I hope I’m not repeating this comment. I was typing, and my first try just disappeared. Anyway, I just wanted to say that memories add gold to our days. Your post reminds us to treasure each moment, and we can withdraw that gold as the years pass.
    By the way, I shared Blind Pig and the Acorn’s link on my post today. You had commented on one of my posts about “winter forgetting to come” this year, and that was pure poetry to me! I wanted everyone to visit here and enjoy your writing and music as much as I do. Have a blessed weekend!
    :)Marilyn

  13. I don’t remember as much about our neighbors houses as their places. When I was a kid we lived outdoors. Houses were for eatin’ and sleepin’. When I knocked on the neighbor’s door, if it wasn’t open, my stock greeting was “Can Beanie come out?” Then it was, “Beanieeeeeeeeee! Edwin’s here! Followed by, “You better be back by dark.” Many times we assumed that “by dark” meant it had it had to be dark when we got back. If Momma want us back before dark, she would have said so. Right? Well that kind of reasoning can get you little stripes on the back of your legs.

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