My oldest brother Steve – circa 1970 Martins Creek
Easter in Appalachia is black patent 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.