“Warm glow of a lighted window welcomes home a Kentucky mountaineer at day’s end. Hollows throughout the southern Appalachians shelter similar small homesteads. A garden, some chickens, a milk cow, and sometimes a few hogs make many of them almost self-sufficient when cash runs short. Many a mountain family has set deep roots in such a spot, never tiring of the pageant of changing seasons that unfolds on the familiar wooded hillsides.”
—American Mountain People
Today’s Thankful November giveaway is a used copy of American Mountain People produced by the National Geographic Society with photographs by Bruce Dale. To be entered in the giveaway leave a comment on this post. Giveaway ends November 24, 2024.
Oh the joy of walking home after dark to house all lit up with love. I’ve been so blessed to grow up in a mountain holler of family where there was always an occasion to visit and then walk home knowing Pap and Granny would be there sitting all cozy in the living-room waiting to hear any news I’d brought.
Another blessing is being surrounded by the comforting ridges that I’ve yet to tire of looking at even though I know them so well. Matters not what time of year they are lovely in their solidarity of protecting the narrow gauged holler I’ve always called home.
Tipper
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I never tire of hearing or reading about Appalachia and the people’s lives who live there. I would love to have this book. Thank you Tipper for the opportunity!
The excerpt from this book sounds like my childhood…a garden, a milk cow, sometimes a hog or a beef calf, kittens in the barn, the laughter of children.
Tipper, the description that you used about coming home to a very cozy home where your parents were excited to hear the news brought back memories of when I was a younger lad before things became so ‘complicated’…neighbors all knew each other, visited with each other, and always had time to talk.
Even though I’m not from KY that’s where my family was born and bred and that blood runs deep in my veins. I always refer to it as God’s Country and nothing is better than going home for a visit.
Although I’m not in the mountains, I’ll never tire of my old Kentucky home. Thankful to have grown up with country ways and family!
I didn’t grow up in the mountains but I can understand how people miss it when they move away. I am drawn to the beauty of the vistas and the ridge tops. Since finding your channel I have fallen in love with the people, traditions and food of Appalachian culture. I would love to have this book to learn even more about this wonderful area of our country.
I’m from a different set of mountains, the Sierra Nevadas in California. We don’t have “hollers”, but picturing a lit house, with a ribbon of chimney smoke, sitting against the mountains reminds me of home and growing up in the mountains.
Would love this book! Longing for those mountains…
We are fortunate our home is a peaceful, happy place!
Also, some words of wisdom I recently read: “Worry is like a rocking chair; it gives you something to do but doesn’t get you anywhere.” I like that!!
My ancestors settled in the KY mountains many generations ago. The best stress relief has always been going back to my roots.
This is such a perfect description of my grandparents homeplace! I can so vividly see it in my mind. Thank you so much for sharing! It brings such comfort and joy to my heart!
Simpson Holler • Simpson Branch; jus’ sayin’ or seein’ those words makes me smile …… so many great memories!
Sounds like such a good book!
I would love to be able to read this book. Just from the small portion it sounds wonderful and takes me home..
My family farmed Boyer Creek Bottom before i was born. A certain tree in the woods to the east always had a branch visible from the field; every time i got to the end of the rows i had to stop and gawk at the beauty of it. No telling how many hours i wasted just enjoying that lovely view a minute or so at a time.
This book makes me think of home. We sold our mountain land, My brothers and I. It’s what our parents had left us. Neither of us lived there after. No city water or wells. We had springs but niwa days , who knows if it safe. I sure do miss it and I’m so glad I have the beautiful memories .I would live this book to take me back in time.
Thank God for mountains and hollers and Kentucky!
I have two cousins who live in western NC, but are not natives. They speak very fondly of the region and its people. In watching your videos and seeing pics from my cousins, NC looks like a very beautiful region of the country. I’d love to visit there someday.
I have been, through there, when I was a teenager! “This old gray mare, ain’t what, she used to be ”
I am seventy five, and I feel , every bit of every minute, and hour! lol!
Mary Kathryn Hedgecock Brown
I have virtigo! I have, got to get better! Be fire, I travel to Northern Europe, and all the scandinavian countries.
I want, to give a very large donation, to the family trust! I have being , trying to get entouch, with, the royal family, to give them, this very very large trust money, cashier’s check.
If anyone has an idea, please , email me. Thank you, ever , so much!
I am building. huge Queen Anne, home, in Denton, N.C., next month. I am building, a duplicate, of a pillow Thompson Home, in Helena, Arkansas. Then, another home, on Horse Neck Church Road. and, a couple more. I hope, that, the royal family, can work it, in their schedule.
I love those Kentucky “hollors”!
Our mountains have a way of grounding you. I can’t imagine a day when I didn’t see this beauty surrounding us. Blessed indeed!
If I close my eyes I can envision this passage from the book. I live in the deep south of Alabama and I love it but I’ve also always dreamed of having a little hideaway somewhere in a deep holler.
It was always neat to see the lamp on in the house we grew up in,after getting back from taking a walk along the pasture road at dusk. Those times not only as a young person but as an adult years later as well with the grandchildren.
Your reports of life in your holler always make me glad.
I love reading about everyone’s special place….home. No place like it!
Tipper….this is for Paul & his train series…thought he might enjoy it from this perspective. “THE TRAIN” (of life)
At birth we boarded the train and met our parents, and we believe they will always travel by our side. As time goes by, other people will board the train; and they will be significant, i.e. our siblings, friends, children, strangers and even the love of your life.
However, at some station our parents will step down from the train, leaving us on this journey alone. Others will step down over time and leave a permanent vacuum. Some, however, will go so unnoticed that we don’t realize they vacated their seats.
This train ride will be full of joy, sorrow, fantasy, expectations, hellos, goodbyes, and farewells. Success consists of having a good relationship with all passengers requiring that we give the best of ourselves.
The mystery to everyone is: We do not know at which station we ourselves will step down. So, we must live in the best way, love, forgive, and offer the best of who we are. It is important to do this because when the time comes for us to step down and leave our seat empty we should leave behind beautiful memories for those who will continue to travel on the train of life.
I wish you a joyful journey for the coming years on your train of life. Reap success, give lots of love and be happy. More importantly, thank God for the journey!
Lastly, I want to thank you for being one of the passengers on my train! (p.s: I didn’t see a name as to who wrote this)
I have a friend who lived in these (Appalachian) mountains for 5 years. It has been 58 years since she left. She is still my friend and she often tells me “those mountains get in your blood and never leaves”. She has lived in several states but always returns to the North Carolina mountains once or twice a year.
My Home…no place I’d rather be. Enjoyed reading the post today!
Everyone have a great day.
This is for both Jackie and Dee. Jackie your reply was exactly how it was when I was growing up in 50 and 60’s. Neighbors were always visiting and looking out for one another. Here the native neighbors still do this, the outsiders that are now moving in will turn their head or won’t even wave to keep from speaking to you.
Dee, I have preached this many times, to me there is nothing on the face of earth except for my relationship to God, more important than the love and time I spend with my family. I loved and enjoyed the time I spent and still spend with my wife’s family and this includes extended family just as much. They have always treated and excepted me just like I was blood kin. I wouldn’t trade this time for any amount of money. One day you are going to get old and look back and realize you are no longer able to spend time with your parents, grandparents, or other family members, they have all died and now all you have are the material things you chased all of your life. Dee, go back to yesterday and if you have not already read it, read my reply to you concerning your husband and hunting.
I wish I could go home again to the place I grew up. Sweet memories with lots of love.
Morning, Tipper! As my daughter and I have traveled mountain roads on our adventures, she always drives and I get to look out the window loving the wonderous sights of millions of trees, or a cabin tucked away below nestled in a holler, and it makes me want to figure out how to get down there and see things closer. What a rich history Aooalachians have! May God bless us one and all today, with special blessings on Granny!!
This post brings back memories of our little farmstead on Tater Knob. What a great time to a kid. Thank you for bringing back fond memories.
There is no place like HOME no matter where you live or how long one has been gone and the older one gets the more ‘home’ calls.
I would Love to have this giveaway. You have brought such a Wonderful Opportunity for All of Us to Love The Appalachia Lifestyle. Praying for All of the Families Who Have Lost Their Homes.
This takes me back to when I was growing up in the great state of Kentucky even though when I married the love of my life Harriett I left it but not by much maybe 4 miles away now in Ohio.
When I was growing up, the light from a fireplace loaded with coal lit many windows. Daddy would come home after dark from working in the coal mines. The light in the window and the smell of soup beans and cornbread must have been almost Heaven to a man who worked under those cold, dark mountains and didn’t see daylight for days at a time. The light from the fireplace was what modern-day psychiatrists call light therapy.
Reminds me of my childhood.
I had to leave my mountains for work, but I still miss them dearly. Thank you, for this.
I learned to love the mountains and mountain people by osmosis, as it were. My parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents grew up in hill country and loved the mountain way of life. Because of their stories and the values they held, I would have cherished those Blue Ridge hills even if I had never set foot on a mountain trail or fished a mountain stream or helped gather corn crops in fine bottomland fields and butcher hogs and hoe the gardens that sustained us. I’ve been privileged to live much of what I heard about from those hardy, hard-working, loving souls now living only in precious memories. I’m a lucky man, and I know it.
Having lived always in big cities by an ocean, mountains are mysterious to me yet that’s where many of my father’s ancestors came from. I enjoy this blog for the insights into what life must have been like for them.
I deeply admire the strong people from years ago who lived in Appalachia. I have visited the region a few times and admired the beauty of it. I shall return again someday, hopefully soon.
Would love a copy of this book. I miss home and know some of the people in the book.
Kathy
The Mountains of Home – Appalachia – how blessed I am.
So so beautiful !!! Just reading the beautiful descriptions allows us to feel the comfort , peace & joy .
I had just this morning told Sharon I needed to send you a message about “hollers”. Where we come from (Cumberland Plateau country of KY) there are very few “hollows” but lots of “hollers”, often with a family name; e.g. “Coffey Holler”. Sadly, on the topographic maps now it seems all the “hollers” have become “hollows” just as in your NatGeo excerpt it is “hollow”. Seems to have happened recently, no doubt with the literal push of a button – wiped out, just like that. Snuck up on again. I’m not going to pitch a fit but it irritates me. I know what we home folks (both local and elsewhere) will do – they will be hollers to our dying day. Saying it don’t make it so. I’ll get off my stump now.
I have such fond memories – wonderful parents and siblings, extended family, small farm life, bike riding with friends, a small church and our church family – the list is endless. Our home was where all the neighborhood kids congregated. My parents didn’t have a lot of money but always made sure we had what we needed, not necessarily what we wanted. So much to be thankful for.
There is nothing cozier than the lights of a country home shining through the dark of a cold winter night. We’ve got the chickens and garden. Maybe someday we’ll work our way to the cow and a pig. Something to dream about!
Beautiful! Thanks for sharing
There is nothing like coming home to our Appalachian mountains it just makes my soul sing! I love your blog and the memories it invokes.
what I wouldnt give to be able to talk to my grandparents and parents again….I would listen closer this time and ask more questions about them and their memories (if the listening closer didnt already give me the answers to questions I long to know now)
This passage reminds me of listening to my grandmother talk about growing up on Meadow Fork in Madison County NC.
Every Wednesday we drive up Hogback Mountain in Montville, Maine for a potluck dinner with friends. Our hosts, Glenn and Sue, may not fit the definition of “Appalachian” folk commonly imagined by Blind Pig enthusiasts, but I suspect Tipper and her family would feel right at home dropping in any Wednesday evening. A few years after the potluck started the house burned to the ground. Megan, my stepdaughter, had taken photos at some of our gatherings and came back to record the family and friends sorting through the ashes for any memories that could be salvaged, then photographed friends who came to help them rebuild their home (they did not have insurance). Meg was there with her camera when we had our first potluck in their new Hogback home. https://www.meganmarsanskis.com/the-mountain-1
This paragraph is so colorful and fills me with longing. Home is a wonderful place to be.
There is nothing like coming home from a tiring day and seeing a light in the window of your own home.
I grew up in the Midwest in upper Wisconsin on a farm. My parents valued family and self-suffiency as much as possible. Life was often difficult and the work was hard, but I appreciate that influence in my life.
Years later, when my husband and I visited western North Carolina, we immediately felt “at home”. We found folks with the same work ethics and the same sense of family. In the mountains and among its people, we have found our place and our forever home.
A field is where you go to sweat for pay. A gym is where you go to pay to sweat. I’ve never understood that.
Perfect!
Ed, I agree 100% with you. Now people live in ac homes, drive ac cars, work at ac jobs and pay to go to the gym, to exercise and sweat. They have never done a day of hard manual labor in their life. Like my old country family doctor once told me, a person that works on manual labor jobs does not need to go by the gym to exercise and sweat on their way home after getting off work.
Oh, memories of home !! Whenever I come home for Thanksgiving driving up 26 , when the mountains come into view, I get excited even at my age , makes me want to speed up . Then coming up the steep zig zag of the road I know I’m getting close to home. Then getting off 26 on to 40 scares me half to death but I know I’m getting even closer. Then I’m there setting in a rocker on the front porch, forgetting the 9 hour drive and letting the bliss of the view and the silence of nothing but nature sounds take over. I close my eyes and remember bib overalls and bear feet, the sound and smell of fall leaves, crisp winter air in my lungs and the smell of wood smoke from fireplaces and walking home dragging my sled walking in knee deep snow. The food is always great but the family fellowship in the land that I love is what I call home.
A small boy had his own definition of home: “Home is when you go there they have to let you in.”
I would love to read this book. I grew up in a valley in PA and still enjoy going back to see the mountains and farmland – especially when the seasons change.
I would enjoy this book. Thank you for sharing. Home is not a house, but the people inside are our home.
this excerpt evoked vivid memories of my grandparents and their self-sufficiency and resiliency. They lived in the circle that encompassed upper East Tennessee, southwest Virginia, and northwestern North Carolina. Life was always hard. I would love to read more about the folks in American Mountain People.
I often long for a simpler life such as this away from the hustle and bustle of working and going just to make ends meet. But I must admit I am spoiled to the comforts such as electricity, running water and indoor plumbing that they might not have been privileged to in those days.
I never lived in the mountains but I’m blessed with an imagination and a good minds eye so that when I read things like this blog and the other posts, I can see it and feel the way you feel when you stoke the wood stove, and walk out in the misty morning. You are the richest people on earth!
I always enjoy your descriptive writing. It draws you in and makes you feel like you are right there. ❣️
I love my family and the mountain way of life I grew up in the Smokies. Hot coffee brewing on the fireplace, the big picture window we could look out of and see Bluff ⛰️ Mountain with her misty morning haze. I grew up with the mountain life and experiences of hard work forming me into the woman, wife and mother I am. I thank God for my life.
A light in the window has made me happy many times. So thankful.
There’s no place like home! Growing up in the mountains and living there, still. What a blessing!
Love my little five acres of Heaven on earth. Dorothy said it best.There’s NO place like Home!!!
My parents grew up in families on farms just like was mentioned. They really were self- sufficient. I think the reason is a loving family. I was visiting my aunt one year before she passed and I mentioned how I loved to come and visit my grandparents and one particular time with my parents there too when I was first married. I just snuggled down in that big feather bed and listened to the sweet low talk of my grandparents making coffee. I told her it was just the most wonderful feeling and she said “Aw you felt the Love of being warm, safe and secure with those you love and who loved you.” I’ve thought about that many years later and she was right you just can’t beat the love of family. In my teens, whenever I was out a little late, the light was always on and Mother was always sitting up to greet me and talk with. Home was a wonderful place for me.
I too have a home similar to that. We have chickens and a hog, and a creek, a pond, and several springs. In the words of “Laura Ingalls” on “Little House on the Prairie” tv show, “Home is the nicest word there is”
Sounds like a book I would enjoy!
I can see this in my mind.. I wish the Lord would bless me with a homestead in the mountains.
What a wonderful place to call home. And that beautiful creek is just the icing on the cake. I find the sound of a flowing creek or stream so soothing.
For the past 70 years, Columbia, SC has been home. Our family went to the beach for vacation. Now our son lives in Horse Shoe, NC and we really enjoy going to the “mountains”. There is something to be said for the clean crisp air on a cool highland morning.
I live in the “flat lands” now with alfalfa fields all around me. I can see the mountains just a short distance away. With a quick drive I can be there or I can sit still and close my eyes for a few minutes and be transported back to the places I once hunted nuts and squirrels. Because of the damage age has done to the body I could not climb there now.
I love what you said about Granny and Pap waiting for you to come in and tell them what you had learned. Home is such a beautiful part of life. No matter where I go, after a while I always want to go home. Thank you for sharing the prayer requests in your video recently. We will be praying for everyone and for all the people still dealing with storm aftermath. ❤️
That short passage brought back so many memories of my grandmother’s place in Tennessee. Such simpler times!
My fondest mountain memories are of my early childhood in my grandparents’ home. They bought coffee, sugar and salt at the general store and not much else. Their small homestead was a paradise for a child, finding and bringing home the cow at the end of the day, enticing chicken with dried corn, navigating barbed wire, making noise by blowing through a blade of grass, etc. Memories are priceless!
Both of our family roots are from the mountain hollars of Appalachia. Our families, when coming to America, settled there and than migrated to Indiana looking for better opportunities land wise back in the 1700 and 1800’s. It’s interesting to read the history that can be found. And I imagine, when coming home back then, candles were lit and warm fires were waiting to greet you at the front door!
There is absolutely no place like home, for sure. I grew up in the River Valley of Arkansas and we had exactly what the story says to supplement, pigs, chickens,garden and an occasional milk cow. All fond memories of growing up in a large family. Wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
I have roots in the Appalachian’s. My mom was from West Virginia. Unfortunately she never shared much about her life with us. She passed away at the age of 98 in November of 2022.
My daughter and I visited North Carolina, and West Virginia this summer and met 11 family members that we did not know. It was such a blessing.
I am learning more about the Appalachian people, country and culture. I found your website before our trip there this summer. It was most helpful and it stirred in me a desire to know more about where my roots are.
I just love the simplicity, the music, the food, family, the stories, history, and most of all your faith in God. Thank you and keep sharing with us.
I love this post. Walking home at night with my parents was such a comforting thing while growing up. Thank you for stirring this memory for me. It’s sad that for so many now, they’ll never experience that wonderful feeling. So much love to you all from SC, Jane
Truly blessed to have a loving home to return to at the end of the day. We know that not everyone if this fortunate. Thank you for sharing this post with us.
Good morning, Tipper. Yes, this describes what I love so much. I only wish our family would stay with us forever and ever. I miss them so much.
There is nothing as peaceful and serene as mountain life. I too enjoy the different scenery on the ridges for each season of the year. A light on when we came in from playing as kids to the light being on with my Mother waiting up on us in later years. What a wonderful feeling being surrounded by these beautiful Smoky Mountains that God made for us to experience and enjoy.
Home is where the heart is, for me a farm in Middle Tennessee.
Tipper, there is something about mountain people. Growing up in Asheville I was surrounded by great mountain people. Walking home at night, in the dark, from my friend’s house was never a problem. Look how the mountain people are working together to help each other after the aweful flooding. Even though I now live in Gastonia, I still consider myself a mountain person. Thank you for your passion for the mountain people of Appalachia.
Always nice to come home
That paragraph describes the rural area I was raised and have lived my entire life in, especially my youthful years. One difference is instead of coal mines it would be cotton mills. At one time Greenville,SC and the surrounding areas was known as the textile capital or center of the world. Now this is no longer true, there has been so much change, and in my opinion much of it has not been for the better. Although harder, I think people were happier when they were living the more simpler times of my youth.
Amen. Then we shared whatever we had and looked out for each other. Now we fight over it and lock it up to keep someone from stealing it. So many people now don’t even know the names of their neighbors.