Today’s guest post was written by Dean Rathbone.
Dean’s parents at the place below the Raven’s Cliff
My Mother and I both had doctor appointments last week. I tried to schedule them so that we wouldn’t have to make so many trips into town. As we started to leave for our appointments, my Mother asked me to travel along the old road to Waynesville. So, I traveled across Rush Fork Mountain on Hwy 209. Mom was busy pointing out things to me as we drove along. She showed me where the old road snaked around the mountain. She said, “That used to be the old wagon road into town. When I was growin’ up that was the way we always traveled into Waynesville. It was just an old dirt road, but my how you could see the world from up there. I can still see those mountains if I just close my eyes.” When we were just below Rush Fork Gap, she pointed over to the left to a large clearing just below the Raven’s Cliff. It was so high up on the mountain that I had to raise my head to see it. Mom softly said, “Stop, so that I can just look at the old place fer a while. I have such precious memories of that mountain. Did I ever tell you about livin’ up yonder under the Raven’s Cliff?” I shook my head and told her no that she hadn’t. I could tell by her trembling voice that she was going to share something intimate and special with me.
She said, “Ye Daddy returned home from the war and we got married on April 13, 1946. We both wanted to do somethin’ different, so we decided to drive down to Clayton, Georgia to get married. It wasn’t that far but back then it was a long way along these old moutain roads. I’d worked so hard on my weddin’ dress. It was white trimmed in tiny Spring flowers. Ye Daddy had bought a jeep and we drove all the way down there with the old canvas top down. I had bug specks all over my pretty white dress. I was so embarrassed, but when we pulled up in front of that old white plank courthouse, ye Daddy took me by the hand. I didn’t care about the bug specks on anymore. I just took his hand and followed him up the steps. I would have followed him anywhere, I reckon.
Ye Daddy had saved up some money while he was in the army and he wanted to buy a place right away. He settled on that place right up yonder under the Raven’s Cliff. Everybody told us that we’d be sorry if we bought that place. They said that the wind would blow us away and we’d be snowed in all winter long. But, we were young and I was still holdin’ on to ye Daddy’s hand, I guess. I could tell that he needed time to heal from that old war. He said that he just wanted to be away from people fer a while to rest. He’d fought the Japanese over there in the Pacific fer 4 long years. He had a lot of healin’ to do and I knew that I had to help him the best that I could. We never dreamed that place up yonder on the mountain would help us both.
I’ll never ferget when he first took me up there to look at it. There was a sturdy log cabin already standin’ up there, right where that chimney is standin’. It was built out of strong chesnut logs. They were as wide as half the length as my body, or so they seemed. I recollect ye Daddy slappin’ a log and sayin’, “Look how strong this old house is. That old north wind won’t budge her.” We stepped up on the porch and I was tickled to see that someone had trained sweet red grapevines along the porch rails. It looked so pretty to me. Inside, the floors were made out of poplar. I could tell that they would come pretty and white when I scrubbed them. There was 3 rooms downstairs and a sleepin’ loft. There was a good fireplace in every room. We walked out on the back porch and somebody had trained a cinnamon vine along the porch rail. It was in bloom and that sweet scent perfumed the entire house.
It was in the Springtime and we stepped off the back steps into an apple orchard that was in full bloom. Every fruit tree, or berry, that ye could think of was growin’ around the edge of the apple orchard. There was peach trees, pear trees, apricot trees, blackberries, and red, yellow, and black raspberries. The place was so high up on the mountain that everything bloomed later and they didn’t get killed by the frost. We just sat down there in that apple orchard and looked around us at the sturdy barn and outbuildin’ and we just drank in the peace of Springtime on that mountain. I knew that was what he Daddy needed, and I wanted to be there with him to help him.I worked beside him in the fields. We’d burn off the tobacco beds in the Spring and he would sow the tiny seeds that I’d mixed with cornmeal. That helps ye see where you’ve already spread the seed. He let the breeze help him and he always got em sewed just right. We planted beans, corn, and candy roasters in the big field below that old barn yonder. Every year, I’d can nearly 300 cans of beans, young taters, corn, pickled beans, sour kraut, apple sauce, blackberries and raspberries. We didn’t want fer anything. We had plenty. We just didn’ have much money. We didn’t need it.
Mommy gave me a milk cow and a startin’ of chickens. We sold eggs, butter, tobacco, raspberries and apples fer what little cash we needed. We didn’t have electricty up there, so we used coal oil lamps and I cooked over the fireplace until we had enough money to buy a wood cookstove. I carried water from the ice cold spring yonder where the sycamores are growin’ tall. We kept our milk and butter in crocks in the spring house just below the spring. The runnin’ water kept everything ice cold. We didn’t have a whole lot to worry about up yonder below the Raven’s Cliff.
That place healed ye Daddy. It give us the space that we needed to deal with his memories. Of a night, he would have bad dreams sometimes. I’d just hold him close and we’d listen to the wind blowin’ on the mountain, feelin’ safe in that sturdy log house. Every once in a while, he would come to me with one of my sewin’ needles in his hand. He’d act like he was sort of embarrassed to ask, but he would say, “There is some little pieces of shrapnel workin’ out of my back. Can ye pick em out fer me?” If the weather was warm, we ‘d go out to the apple orchard so that I could see good. He’d take his shirt off and lay down in the grass and I would pick the little pieces of metal out of his back as easy as I could. Sometimes, his shoulders would be tremblin’ and I knew that he was crying. I didn’t say a word. He needed to cry. I’d just rub his back until he went to sleep. I watched ye Daddy heal up yonder on that mountain. And, we both knew when it was time to leave.
Ye Daddy come to terms with his enemies and rivals as he healed. He taught me that you might defeat ye enemies, wipe em off the face of the earth, but they will always be with ye. If they ain’t then ye heart ain’t in the right place. You need to forgive them and they need to forgive you in your heart. You need to make peace with em. I reckon that the the peacefullness on that old mountain up yonder helped him heal.
When I think of heaven, it is just like that place up yonder on the mountain when ye Daddy and me lived there. It was so peaceful and full of love. Now, I’m 95 years old and ye Daddy is already gone. We both know that I’ll be goin’ to join him very soon. I told ye this because I want ye to have a vision of heaven to look forward to. Ye just need to forgive ye past enemies and rivals, fer we all have em, and the peace will take ye there.”
I realized that we just made a precious memory. And, I have a vision to look forward to. That is called hope. We all need it.
I hope you enjoyed Dean’s post as much as I did!
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This story helped me in ways I cannot explain. God bless you for this post. Thank you.
Thank you, for sharing this beautiful story. What wonderful memories. I can imagine that the memories of their time on the mountain carried them through tough experiences in their lives.
Just beautiful
What a beautiful piece! Sounds like Heaven on Earth!
It does sound just like heaven.
One of the best that I’ve ever read. Thank you.
Sweet memories.
What a wonderful story. Thank you for posting it. Dennis Morgan
Thank you, Dean for sharing this beautiful and intimate story.
Wow! Spoken from the heart; sure touch’s one’s inner being …… .
Wow, what a lovely, touching memorial to clearly remarkable folks. And a powerful message to a sad, angry world. Thank you so much.
I remember one Pearl Harbor Day celebration a few years ago. Afterward, the people moved into groups to talk. I took particular notice of one group, the elderly American and Ja[anede [plots who had fought each other that day in 1941. Once enemies, and then veterans with nightmares of the war, they had moved past that and had become friends.
As I type through the tears, I think this is the most precious, beautiful, moving story I have read. Thank you, Tipper and Dean. I am quickly reminded of the hymn, “Precious Memories.” The way things are in this world today, if we don’t have hope, we don’t have anything. God bless each and everyone!
What a wonderful story. I was deeply moved. God bless our veterans for their sacrifice and also the families that endured it with them.
Let us never forget.
This is what true love is, forgiveness toward your enemies, and those who have wronged you. This is a lovely memory that was given and shared! Thank you Dean and Tipper!!
That is a wonderful writing. It is very moving, and I needed that this morning.
I agree with the others a wonderful
post indeed. Thanks
What a beautiful story. Thank you for sharing it, it sure brought back some memories of my dad and where he grew up.
Such a beautiful story of healing. My oldest brother was a Vietnam vet and would go walking in a the woods every chance he got for hours at a time and sometimes for days. After reading this story I think I now understand why. He needed that same type of refuge and peace in order to heal from the war.
Thank you for posting this much needed story. It helped us to understand some of our own vets too.
Sounds like Heaven to me too.
Very touching and beautiful. I could see it all, word for word as written. Such a gift!
Terrible to know that once again there were men who were discharged from service without getting all the medical care they deserved and needed.
Tales that come from the heart are invariably moving, and this one certainly fits that mold. What a grand memory, and Dean is blessed that his mother who has to be quite elderly, shared it with him. We, in turn, are blessed he shared it with us.
Jim Casada
Absolutely beautiful post. Thank you for sharing.
What a great telling. The older I get there is little I love more that peace, and that peace only comes thru Christ. Amen.
Wow what a wonderful memory, loved it and I think the younger generations should have to live a bit of that life just to know what it is all about.
This was a truly great post. It has a truth to it that is not just about war times. Needless to say, it brought a few tears to my eyes!
How touching & helpful her story is ‼️❤️ Thanks to Dean & you!
Thank you, Dean and Tipper! This one hurt my heart as some of them do. Their times were hard, but they just kept going and made a beautiful life in spite of the difficulties and hard times. That is what our ancestors did! Reading it is both hard and inspiring at the same time.
These are our people!
I thoroughly enjoyed the articles today on the mountain home and the baccer patch. Both stories remind me how close my uncles and aunts were to the soil. They had to be because it provided their livin’ As a kid, my job was to help plant the smal, tender tobacco seedlings. All us boys would do the planting, and my girl cousins would carry water to use in the planting. Growing tobacco and other things, we had an ongoing battle with nature. I still remember those big green tobacco worms that we would pull off the tender leaves and pull them til they popped. Being boys, we made sure the girls were watching when we did it!
Beautiful story! Thank you for sharing! Take care and God bless ❤️
I wish everyone had a place like that to heal our minds, bodies and spirits. God Bless us all.
Dean’s story made me cry more than once. Mom was telling you how much they loved each other when she said he took her hand and she would have followed him anywhere. That mountain truly does sound a little bit like Heaven. I will always remember what she said about defeating or killing an enemy but they will always be with you.
A beautiful story!
Beautiful post that tugs at the heart. Thanks for sharing such an inspirational story. So many of us up in our late 70’s or early 80’s certainly have memories of their parents telling stories of their siblings going off to WWII, letters home, those that came back and those that didn’t get to come back and how they all dealt with those memories. I’ll just say, those stories of strong faith and perseverance and love for one another ran deep through my family and has been a reminder to me how love and forgiveness can heal and the hope that we carry in our hearts.
It seems there are sometimes words that will zero right into your memory bank, like in the post the Mother said “Stop, so I can look at the old place.” Whenever we were traveling back to my Father’s home place, we would always say, “we are going out to the old place.” Just seeing someone else use words like we do to describe a place for some reason makes you feel like they are kin:)
The house where I live, is my ancestors who came from Ireland in 1851. It had been a working dairy until about 25 yr.s ago. Whenever anyone refers to our home, they call it the ‘farmhouse’ or ‘the farm’ or, The Dixon place (my maiden name). We have places around us that haven’t had a structure on them for decades and they are still referred to by the name of the last people. Down the road, there is only a little shell of a hand dug, stone lined cellar. We all call it the Moxley lot. Moxley’s have been dead & gone since probably the 20s. Some phrases never go away, until all the people do.
This is a beautiful story! As the wife of a Vietnam veteran who also came home with memories that needed to heal. He never really healed and only found peace with demons of war at his death.
What a wealth of memories, treasure trove for sure!
I have some as well but my children nor grandchildren are interested. I grew up with some precious events but things were quite different then. The material generation continues. These days the tv etc are story tellers. Guess even the books are as obsolete as my experiences. I recall my grandma telling how her husband killed huge snakes, longer than he was tall. (To tell the truth, I shuttered everytime cause there is a purpose for them or God never would have made them.) So I learned at an early age, people will destroy what they fear & don’t understand.
Another time, another place. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all could experience such peace!
What a memory! So glad that it’s written and not forever lost!
I can just see the home place in my mind eye.
Thank you for sharing.
Tears. I, like my paternal grandmother, am ‘weepy’. Wish my parents marriage provided such touching memories. They are still married, but a lot of bitterness, mistakes, stubbornness, and mismatched-ness has made a trial of it. I don’t think we can truly recognize what this generation gave up, & gained, in the life they lived. Some still go through it, but not en masse like generations that lived through world wars – where, literally everyone was affected. Beautiful story, and with the trials & tribulations of my personal life, I too, wish for a place like that in the mountains, to just get away from people for awhile. guess, I’ll have to wait until Heaven.
I totally understand…I am waiting on the Lord as well. Let’s us look forward and up..not waste time by looking back. It never helps, and keeps us from enjoying whatever joy may suddenly occur. Blessings…Pat
Dean’s post was absolutely wonderful! I enjoyed and hung in every word. Love, devotion and dreams is sometimes all one has, but it’s the best things life has to offer! About wars and all I will just say (after careful deliberation over the course of almost 40 years) wars are rich men’s tricks. Their sons and daughters DO NOT go to war and sacrifice their lives. They sit in high places judging the rest of us and wishing us dead. While they stay drunk, drugged and commit sins of the flesh that would make a demon blush. I’m sure glad they’re not God or really much of anything at all worth mentioning. We will no longer send our sons to die for causes that don’t exist or get watered down in a few years. I dare say if Dean’s dad could’ve seen the future he gave his health for, he would have run to beat the band as far as he could into the woods and I’d be right behind him!
Well said Margie. I always enjoy your comments!
Even though sad, I enjoyed reading today’s post, it describes the life of some of the people I knew when growing up. Whenever I would go to a hardware /sporting goods store atAnderson,SC, I would always ask my Daddy to ride with me. I would stop at a little drive inn and buy us an ice cream and take him by his his parents graves and ride him through the area he grew up in. He would always show and tell me about things he had done or that had happened at places along the way. I would take him down any road he wanted to go. Now I am left with priceless memories of this time spent with him. When I go somewhere with my son or grandsons I catch myself telling them about things that use to be there or things I had done at places we past along the way. I think about about the men that fought in WW11, Korea and Vietnam and how they did not get or have the help that is available now for the demons they had from the wars. I had a Uncle that came home from Korea an alcoholic but with the help of God and his family he was able to overcome it. Now I look back at some of the men I have known that were good as gold but were bad about drinking and realize everyone of them had been in one of these wars.
Beautiful story. I believe there is something about the mountains that offers healing. There is also great healing in forgiveness. Forgiveness gives you power over the enemy rather than the enemy having power over you by consuming your thoughts, attitudes, actions, etc.
When I think about Heaven I think about seeing people who know the Lord that I’ve never even met here on earth and how amazing that will be but even more seeing Jesus and being in His presence.
Thank you for that beautiful story.
This story was one of the saddest. sweetest and most loving posts I’ve ever read on BG& the A.
Thank you for another memory from the “Greatest Generation” . My mom and dad were of this generation. Marrying in 1941, Dad’s 4 years in the Army Air Corp as a waist gunner and then going on to raise a family and support and build a small town community to rear their three children in. I consider myself richly blessed by my parents and now by Dean’s sharing.
I want to write this down in my ‘notebook’ containing wise or funny or important words. This is BIG important. Thank you for sharing this as I will share it with my family one day when I’m gone – and they find my important ‘notebook’. It is one of the wisest of stories, limited to the most important of words, of course not more than the Bible but surely based on it.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading that lovely story. I won’t forget it.
Beautiful story! Wow, thank you Dean and to Tipper for the sharing of it.
Amen. Thanks for sharing that this morning.
I’m crying and filled with such gratitude for this precious couple and their son who shared.
God bless.
That was a very touching read that brought tears to my eyes. I’m so glad they both know the Lord and will meet again. This true story makes me appreciate the sacrifices of that generation even more.
What a lovely story of healing and forgiveness.
This story made me cry. What a lovely memoty to pass to your child
Wow…what memories…I have nothing to add nor take away and as I read, I can’t imagine what they went through. We all have to fight demons in one way or another but it sounds like she was smarter than a lot of us are now nor will ever be. God Bless.
that was such a beautiful story, on so many levels, thank you for sharing it,♥
What a wonderful post, thank you Dean and Tipper. I can imagine that place in my mind.