LOL In Appalachia


Thought you might enjoy starting the work week with some laughter by way of Pap.

Back in the day, Pap and a friend walked to see 2 brothers who were musicians-in the hopes of hearing some good pickin and grinnin. Soon after arriving, they started asking the brothers to play them a song-but the boys kept putting them off. Even the boys’ Mother encouraged them to play a tune-all to no avail. Just as Pap and his friend were about to leave, one of the brothers said “Mommy blow the lamp out and we’ll sing one.” Seems the brothers were so backward they could only perform in the dark!


A man Pap used to work with, thought his wife was going to have a nervous breakdown because she was dipping too much snuff. One day the wife said to Pap “Tell him Jerry the snuff don’t make me nervous. I can be waaay out there and take a little dip and it brings me right back.”


Many years ago, one of Pap’s friends went to Asheville to have his teeth pulled and be fitted with dentures. On his way home he had a flat tire. As he was bent over changing the tire someone came up behind him and pecked him on the shoulder. When he looked up a gentleman asked if he knew how to get to the apple orchard. Having all your teeth pulled can cause quite a bit of bleeding-not wanting to spit blood by the man’s feet, Pap’s friend just shook his head no.

The gentleman went back to his car and Pap’s friend got back to fixing the flat. A few minutes later the gentleman came back and pecked him on the shoulder again-wanting directions to a different location. Pap’s friend couldn’t hold it in any longer and the blood spilled down both sides of his mouth. The gentlemen started backpedaling and ran for his car.

Later, Pap’s friend told him “why he thought I was one of those vampeers.” Pap’s friend was a little upset over the incident, because he’d worn his only white shirt and kept it perfectly clean until that man came around asking questions.

Hope you enjoyed Pap’s funny memories. Got any to add?


This post was originally published here on the Blind Pig in September of 2008.


You Might Also Like


  • Reply
    susie swanson
    February 7, 2012 at 6:14 pm

    I couldn’t hardly read this for laughing.. I read it to my hubby, he was wondering what I was laughing about and he’s still laughing.. By the way, snuff really does calm the nerves…lol..Susie

  • Reply
    Janet Smart
    February 7, 2012 at 7:51 am

    When I was growing up seems like just about everyone used snuff.I had forgotten about it, but when one of your commenters mentioned the cocoa and sugar, that came back to me too. Yes, I have to admit that I did that a few times.

  • Reply
    February 7, 2012 at 12:35 am

    Very, very funny post! I loved it! Thanks for stopping by my blog and commenting!

  • Reply
    Suzi Phillips
    February 6, 2012 at 10:20 pm

    Thank ya’ll! It’s been a long day.

  • Reply
    Miss Cindy
    February 6, 2012 at 3:57 pm

    Great stories Tipper, and I love the pictures!

  • Reply
    February 6, 2012 at 2:14 pm

    Now that’s the way to start out a
    I enjoyed everyone’s stories,
    especially B. Ruth’s tale using
    Forest Gump at the Pearly Gates.

  • Reply
    Ed Ammons
    February 6, 2012 at 11:45 am

    Ain’t you got no snuff glasses to go with them cans? That’s all we had to drink milk out of up on Wiggins Creek. That and those little glasses that dried beef came in, but they wouldn’t hold more than a good gulp. Nobody at my house dipped but Grandma did and she kept us supplied with that fine crystal ware.

  • Reply
    February 6, 2012 at 11:12 am

    I have a brother that is slightly older than me. He was always playing pranks on me when we were kids.
    I always envied him in that he could chew tobacco without getting sick. That’s right he could chew and spit tobacco juice just like a major league baseball pitcher.
    One day we were going to the store and he told me that if I would start out with a small piece of tobacco and just stay with it and not give up when I started to get sick I would be able to chew like him. I decided to try it. Slowly I started to get sick but I wasn’t gonna give up with my big brother looking. I got sicker and sicker and I believe I would have died that day but The Good Lord just wasn’t taking people that sick.
    It finally got me. I lost my breakfast in that red, dusty clay on that country road. Yes, my big brother was looking. Oh the shame of it all!
    I tried to make a deal with the Lord and promised him that if he would let me get better before Momma and Daddy caught me, I would never try that again. He did and and I never did again!

  • Reply
    February 6, 2012 at 11:05 am

    This brings back memories of Sunday suppers with Grandma and Grandpa. We’d sit around the table for hours listening to their tales! Here’s one I remember; There was a man in the neighborhood who was famous for being bone-lazy, a real Pa Kettle type. Needless to say, his family often went without the necessities of life. One day, Grandma, Grandpa and a couple of their friends had picked corn, and on an impulse, thought it would be nice to stop by and give some of the corn to the lazy man’s family. So they drove up to the man who was sitting on his porch and offered him the corn. He regarded them for a minute, then asked if it was husked. Having been told that it wasn’t, his reply was, “Drive on boys, drive on.”

  • Reply
    February 6, 2012 at 10:39 am

    These are all great stories, including the ones from the comments; gave me a big smile this morning!

  • Reply
    February 6, 2012 at 10:31 am

    Tipper, your post brought smiles, but, today, the responses caused chuckles. I really enjoy reading everyone’s comments!

  • Reply
    Wayne Newton
    February 6, 2012 at 10:22 am

    Tipper, I am continually amazed at the stories you post which parallel the chapters in “A Bunch of Wiregrass”.
    Grandma’s Snuff, really happened, and I’ve never desired another dip.
    BTW, my Grandma’s sister was a level-headed woman; during long-winded sermons, snuff ran out of both sides of her mouth.

  • Reply
    Lisa Snuggs
    February 6, 2012 at 9:39 am

    What fun! Reminds me of the time my nephew was asked by his first-grade teacher to name the four seasons. He replied, “dove, deer, duck, and turkey.” He was perplexed to find that the teacher was more interested in the weather.

  • Reply
    February 6, 2012 at 9:16 am

    Thanks Tipper! Once again you have put a big old smile on my face and made my day a little brighter.

  • Reply
    Ron Banks
    February 6, 2012 at 9:08 am

    Good stories and good photos!
    I like the photo of the snuff cans because it takes me back. Being brought up around dippers and chewers I was intriqued by it. So me and a childhood friend would take cocoa powder and sugar and make or own snuff. Once my mother found out waht I was doing she set me straight! I have heard a saying many times when someone was eating something tasty that goes, “That was gooder than snuff and not near as dusty”!
    Oh,and I also love the photo of the rear of what I believe to be a 1969 Camaro!
    Thanks Tipper,

  • Reply
    Jim Casada
    February 6, 2012 at 9:05 am

    Tipper—I will share an anecdote from my column for this week’s issue of the “Smoky Mountain Times.” In recent weeks I’ve been doing a series on “Where Have All the Characters Gone?” This week’s character is a fellow from my boyhood (and Don’s) who had wit as sharp as a well-honed Barlow and quick as a snake’s strike, Britt McCracken.
    At one point in his life (late 1940s or early 1950s) he drove a bus route which took him back and forth between Maggie Valley, Cherokee, and Bryson City. In those days the main road ran through Soco Gap and was a steep, twisting and tortuous route. He was running late in Maggie Valley and one flatlander lady touron lit into him from the moment he arrived. On the bus she sat immediately behind the driver’s seat, and she gave Britt an non-stop ration of grief as the bus slowly climbed the mountain. Britt endured this verbal abuse in stoic silence, but once he topped out over Soco he flat-out let that bus roll down the mountain. All the other riders were locals, mostly Indians, and that didn’t trouble them a bit. However, the tourist woman was another story. Within the first mile or two she was expressing concern about the way Britt was straightening the curves, and soon she was so scared she said: “Driver, if you’ll stop this bus I’ll get off.” Britt McCracken had heard enough. “Lady,” he replied, “if I could stop this bus we’d both get off.” Needless to say, silence reigned supreme the rest of the way down the mountain. although I’ve always wondered whether there might have been a wet place behind the driver’s seat.
    Jim Casada

  • Reply
    Uncle Al
    February 6, 2012 at 8:58 am

    Enjoyed that one Tipper. My Granny on my Dad’s side was a snuff dipper….she did stop ( I think) after so many of us cousins were always a hangin around. I have bottle of the type of snuff she dipped (empty of course) 🙂

  • Reply
    February 6, 2012 at 8:56 am

    my first smile of the day. love the vampeer story. the blue photo and the tire photo are really good.

  • Reply
    Sheryl Paul
    February 6, 2012 at 8:52 am

    Love the stories, I know how that guy feels about turning out the lights. I am that way when I have to speak in public.
    BTW, I love the button jar. I have one just like it!

  • Reply
    tony foster
    February 6, 2012 at 8:33 am

    when my wife was turning 40 a few years back, we happened to be visiting her family in the land of fruits and nuts (california, that is). we were sitting around joking and guying each other about age and such when i thought i would interject a saying i had heard somewhere…i told grandma that when monica, my wife, turns 40 i was going to trade her in for two twenty year olds. Ninety year old grandma without hesitation said “son, i don’t think you’re wired for 220”. needless to say, she got my goat!

  • Reply
    Tim Mclemore
    February 6, 2012 at 8:18 am

    Nothing like a good laugh to get the morning off.. Thanks Tipper and some pretty good ones on the comments as well….

  • Reply
    Mike McLain
    February 6, 2012 at 7:37 am

    Pap’s stories just prove what I have always suspected – real life is funnier than fiction. Thanks for sharing them, Pap!

  • Reply
    Sue Crane
    February 6, 2012 at 7:28 am

    we had a dear friend who played the fiddle but would only play if he had his back turned to you! Must have been related to those brothers that Pap went to hear!

  • Reply
    Jessica Puckett
    February 6, 2012 at 6:28 am

    My father always thought he could sing, but he couldn’t carry a tune in a sack. After my mother & father were married, they always rode to church with my grandparents(my mother’s parents).My grandfather was the preacher, so they all went together to every service.One Sunday morning on the way to church, my mother and grandmother were singing old hymns.They had voices like angels. Then my poor old dad started to sing. My grandmother, always patient, had put up with his terrible singing for many Sundays. She never said a word. I guess this Sunday was the final straw for her. After his second song, he looked at my grandmother and jokingly told her, ” Now, I’ll sing you another for a quarter.” She turned around from her front seat and said to him, ” I will give you a whole darned dollar if you’ll just shut up!”

  • Reply
    Ed Ammons
    February 6, 2012 at 5:55 am

    My uncle Wayne was one was one of them baccer chewers and dippers. He found an old fiddle somewhere and wanted to fix it up to play. He sanded it all off and was mixing some stains to refinish it. He kept trying different blends but none seemed to be right. Finally his face seemed to light up and he squirted a stream baccer spit into the mix and said “that ought to do it”. He stirred it all up and refinished the fiddle with it. It turned out with a dark chestnut look and sounded just fine.

  • Reply
    B. Ruth
    February 6, 2012 at 5:53 am

    This has been around a while..but I love it…
    The day finally arrived. Forrest Gump dies and goes to Heaven.. He is at the Pearly Gates, met by St. Peter himself. However, the gates are closed, and Forrest approaches the gatekeeper.
    St. Peter said, ‘Well, Forrest, it is certainly good to see you. We have heard a lot about you. I must tell you, though, that the place is filling up fast, and we have been administering an entrance examination for everyone. The test is short, but you have to pass it before you can get into Heaven.’
    Forrest responds, ‘It sure is good to be here, St.. Peter, sir. But nobody ever told me about any entrance exam. I sure hope that the test ain’t too hard. Life was a big enough test as it was.’
    St.. Peter continued, ‘Yes, I know, Forrest, but the test is only three questions.
    First: What two days of the week begin with the letter T?
    Second: How many seconds are there in a year?
    Third: What is God’s first name?’
    Forrest leaves to think the questions over. He returns the next day and sees St. Peter, who waves him up, and says, ‘Now that you have had a chance to think the questions over, tell me your answers.’
    Forrest replied, ‘Well, the first one — which two days in the week begins with the letter ‘T’? Shucks, that one is easy. That would be Today and Tomorrow..’
    The Saint’s eyes opened wide and he exclaimed, ‘Forrest, that is not what I was thinking, but you do have a point, and I guess I did not specify, so I will give you credit for that answer. How about the next one?’ asked St. Peter.
    ‘How many seconds in a year? Now that one is harder,’ replied Forrest, ‘but I thunk and thunk about that, and I guess the only answer can be twelve.’
    Astounded, St. Peter said, ‘Twelve? Twelve? Forrest, how in Heaven’s name could you come up with twelve seconds in a year?’
    Forrest replied, ‘Shucks, there’s got to be twelve: January 2nd, February 2nd, March 2nd… ‘
    ‘Hold it,’ interrupts St. Peter. ‘I see where you are going with this, and I see your point, though that was not quite what I had in mind….but I will have to give you credit for that one, too. Let us go on with the third and final question. Can you tell me God’s first name’?
    ‘Sure,’ Forrest replied, ‘it’s Andy.’
    ‘Andy?’ exclaimed an exasperated and frustrated St Peter.
    ‘Ok, I can understand how you came up with your answers to my first two questions, but just how in the world did you come up with the name Andy as the first name of God?’
    ‘Shucks, that was the easiest one of all,’ Forrest replied. ‘I learnt it from the song, ANDY WALKS WITH ME, ANDY TALKS WITH ME, ANDY TELLS ME I AM HIS OWN.’
    St. Peter opened the Pearly Gates, and said: ‘Run, Forrest, run.’
    Thanks Tipper, for a great rerun post…

  • Leave a Reply