Easter in Appalachia is black paten shoes, dresses trimmed in lace, and bonnets. It’s little ram-rod boys stilled and stuck in dress pants and ties. Easter in Appalachia is sunrise services, cantatas and long walks through dark hollers to bright high ridges. Easter in Appalachia is the older kids hiding eggs for the younger ones. It’s shouts of Hallelujah and Amen-mostly on the inside but with some escaping our lips. Easter in Appalachia is the mountains dotted with white and the yards dotted with pink. It’s a day filled with family, faith, and food.
Tipper
Appalachia Through My Eyes – A series of photographs from my life in Southern Appalachia.
Yep, that’s exactly how I remember it!!
Hope your Easter was filled with a wonderful faith and family celebration!
A late Happy Easter to you. Yes, I remember those black paten leather shoes and the socks trimmed in lace. And in the old, old days everyone went to the local store and bought salty fish to have for Easter.
Mrs. Wanda recalls when she was very young she lost one of her new Easter shoes in the mud walking back from the Church House. Seems her foot sunk so deep she couldn’t find her shoe! They never did find that shoe, so somewhere in the old road towards Millers Fork Church, is an old, very muddy, girls shoe, entombed until they decide to pave the road, and a grader unearths it. Not sure they ever will pave that road, though.
Happy Easter to all! I was lucky, lucky to be aquainted with Mrs. Stokely(Wilma Dykeman). She was a queenly & gracious “tall woman”. I highly reccommend her work to all of you. PS-Don, I loved your post.
Easter here today was work, but it’s ok cause my working meant a lady with children and grandchildren could be with them this blessed Resurrection Day.
God bless.
RB
<><
happy easter to you and your family also your mom and dad. we here in columbus met dana’s for easter dinner and a egghunt for the kids. paul and geneaive would have loved it with the amount of grandkids and great grandkids running around looking for candy. after all this adults and kids got together for a game of whiffle ball.
Tipper—Give B. Ruth a prize, because when she says, on her second guess, John Parris for sure, she’s squarely on target. Whether or not you knew that a series of sentences starting with “It is” or “It’s” followed a common John Parris literary trick, imitation (conscious or otherwise) is the finest form of flattery. I notice Don, who is intimately acquainted with the writings of Parris, also employed the same literary device in his post today.
I might add that Wilma Dykeman is a wonderful writer as well, although much of her work was fiction. She reminds me of Jesse Stuart, another great Appalachian writer. Along with “The French Broad,” I greatly admire a much shorter book she write in tandem with her husband, “Highland Homeland.” You won’t find a much better title unless it is “MY Mountains, My People” from John Parris.
For any of your readers who are serious readers of books on Appalachia, these two names are shining diamonds.
Jim Casada
I do remember those shiny black pattened leather shoes and how they clicked across the floor. Which for us little girls was just the bomb if our shoes sounded like Mama’s heels. We always had a new outfit to wear on Easter and church.
I don’t know what was more fun as I got into my teens and hid the eggs for the youngins… finding them when the were hidden for me or counting the eggs then searching for the missing ones we hid that no one found. LOL
I’ll bet it’s beautiful coming up out of that holler to the ridge finding the bright rays warming your face.
Happy Easter Tipper & family!
Sassy
http://keepinitruralinthemidwest.wordpress.com/
Easter blessings to you and yours. I remember as a young child ,getting all dressed up for Easter Sunday services and the egg hunt…times were so much simplier then.
Tipper,
I’d like to respond to Jim’s
comment about ‘fighting eggs’ at
Easter. I did that, in fact I had
an egg made from talc, colored it
green and broke all the boy’s eggs. Those bigger than me at the
time would come up and they’d
chuck the egg so only the pointed
end stuck out. When they’d nudge
me to ‘fight’, I’d pull that
thing out of my pocket and let
them peck my egg. Then they’d
walk away, holding their little
broken egg…thanks Jim for
reminding me…Ken
Tipper,
Nice thoughts of Easter in Appalachia. Enjoyed all the comments today also. Happy Easter
to everyone…Ken
That sounds lovely, Tipper. Happy Easter to you and yours!
Tipper—I wonder how many of your readers remember “fighting” eggs at Easter time? This was done by striking the more pointed ends of boiled eggs against one another. It was grand fun to have a “champeen” egg which reduced a bunch of others to the makings of egg salad. Of course there was always some sneaky country boy who had access to guinea eggs and snuck one of them in amongst his dyed chicken eggs. A guinea egg is as hard as the fowl which produce them are loud.
I haven’t heard (or thought) of fighting eggs for years until a few days ago. It was commonplace when I was a boy.
Jim Casada
Tipper,
and Jim…In the back of my head, I hear my Mother saying her favorite,
“The French Broad”…Wilma Dykeman…and writer for the Knoxville News Sentinel…
Is it fair to guess two..?
Tipper,
and Jim….Those Storied Mountains….John Parris…
I think for sure…
B. Ruth ….
I saw new faces at church this morning who probably only come on Easter and Christmas. New hymn to me “On Friday a thief, on Sunday a King”. Kids and Grandkids coming for dinner , Ham, baked beans, macaroni and cheese and deviled eggs, and all the rest. Eggs to hide, probably a couple of times. Happy Easter to you and yours!
Happy Easter Tipper and family and all the other readers. We too celebrate the resurrection day of our Blessed Lord and Savior. We have awakened this morning to a surprise snow storm here on the east coast of Canada. Blessings to all.Bob and Inez Jones
Happy Easter to you and yours, Tipper!
Great Morning Tipper,
How I hated those hard candy multicolored eggs. When they got damp they stuck to the grass, ewwww. I wanted chocolate always!
Today, I would give anything for a basketful of those cheap old hard candy eggs from my Mom and Dad…with them helping us hide and hunt the dyed eggs…LOL
It’s not Easter without going to the Sunrise Service…Dressed in a little ruffled frock and flowered hat, tied on with a ribbon. Freezing and yawning, while waiting on the sun to rise and then I hear the beginning of “He Arose”. I would join in, singing to the top of my lungs…My favorite Easter hymn;
“Up From The Grave He Arose”
Low in the grave he lay, Jesus my Savior,
waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!
Refrain:
Up from the grave he arose;
with a mighty triumph o’er his foes;
he arose a Victor from the dark domain,
and he lives forever, with his saints to reign.
He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!
Happy Easter
Thanks Tipper
Tipper—I wonder whether you realize that the stylistic pattern you used in today’s blog follows closely along a pattern set by one of the finest literary voices of the mountains of western North Carolina. This wonderful scribe from yesteryear, the author of several books and hundreds of columns, regularly adapted the “It’s . . .” to describe a person, a season, a day, an event, or a mountain tradition. Here’s a little test for your readers. Who can identify the author to whom I refer (and Tipper, I wonder if you are aware of the individual’s identity)?
Jim Casada
Happy Easter Tipper, and to all the Blind Pig Readers! I remember well the black patent leather shoes and the sun rise services. Though fashion has changed, and we don’t always make the sunrise services, we still celebrate as a family. I wanted to share that my oldest son was baptized this week. What a wonderful blessing to share this Easter weekend!
Easter is that transitional moment when the sun peeks over the mountains in the east with a light so bright and wonderful that you’d never believe it if you hadn’t seen it for yourself.
It is an irrepressible spring of living water pouring forth from a holler in the hillside carved by the fingers of the Rock of Ages.
It is that trinity-flowered Lily of the mountains, Trillium grandiflorum, risen out of the damp and the mold and bursting forth with petals white as snow.
Easter in the mountains is a blood red cardinal perched on a branch, head lifted to the sky, singing “glory, glory, glory, glory.”
It is dew-borne tears of joy shimmering most brightly on the meek and lowly.
God bless you and yours on the Easter Sunday from my family at Whitetail Woods.
The members of the church fixed all the kids a basket of candy that was handed out after Sunday service. The big fruit and nut candy eggs were huge and delicious. Seems like spring flowers were always bloomed at Easter, no matter how cold it was.
Happy Easter to all.
Easter now has a whole different meaning to me than it use to, along with Christmas, with the worlds commercialization of the two meaningful holidays we Christians celebrate, the true meaning gets lost and I’m afraid that today’s youth don’t realize the important s of both. Yes as little ones we would hide the eggs and dress up once a year and wear things we hated to wear, but now it’s all about Jesus not what I wear on this day, This day is Resurrection day, the day in which our Lord and Savior fulfilled part of his teachings. He has yet to complete the rest, I’m glad to say I’m on the Lord’s side on this resurrection day. And it’s all because of his love for us.
Wishing you and yours a wonderfilled Easter Holiday!!
A blessed and happy Easter to you and your family Tipper.
As I sat outside yesterday I could see far off neighbors having an Easter egg hunt for all the little people. What fun to hear their squeals of delight, and their laughter.
Another beautiful day here. One to enjoy and celebrate!
And when the littlest child has run all over and her beaming face has faded, lips are quivering and tears are starting to flow. And you pick her “Do you want brother to help you?” And you steer her toward eggs you have hidden from even the most experienced hunters. “Have you looked in the boxwood? No, not under it, in it!” And she finds it and holds it up “Look what I found!” and it’s the prettiest egg of the day.
Happy Easter to you and your family. May you continue to share the Applachain life with those who cherish it. God bless all of your work.
Beautiful words and memories as usual, Tipper. My memories of Easter :dyeing eggs, hiding eggs, black patentleather shoes and frilly dresses, curled hair, and chocolate bunnies.
Happy Easter dear Tipper and family.. I hope you have a beautiful day as we see God’s promise fulfilled with the beauty and renewed life this Easter morn.
Beautiful words for a Blessed morning!
Happy Easter to the Blind Pig family & readers!
Happy Easter to you and your family Tipper. I know it must be beautiful there.
Sam
Easter was such a special time at our house. All you mentioned Tipper was so true in our area as I remember those days when we were kids. Momma was usually understanding with us kids in that she didn’t usually punish or scold when we were boistous (as most little boys can be). However, she always insisted that we be on our best behavior Easter Morning. She would say, “Easter is the most sacred of all the holidays so this day don’t forget and be noisy!” We NEVER disobeyed her on that.
Would love to be atop one of those high mountains in the Smokies when the sun come up this morning.
that is the way it was when I was growing up, but down here sadly it is not. enjoy your day.
May God bless you richly this Resurrection Day!