Today’s guest post was written by Jim Casada.
Tipper’s Papaw Wade Wilson
In her often overlooked book, Spirit of the Mountains (1905; reprinted with a new foreword and introduction, 1975), Emma Bell Miles writes of residents of the Appalachian high country: “No amount of education ever quite rids the mountaineer of bull-headed contrariness.” I would heartily and unashamedly concur with that statement. Indeed, my sister-in-law’s reaction when she first heard those words, a spirited “Amen, brother” may well have included the “brother” part because she had me in mind. Of course my personal preference is to describe the trait as one of proud independence, and anyone who doubts that such obduracy exists in traditional mountain ways simply lacks familiarity with them.
My Grandpa Joe was a good example. He would never work for another man, or at least not if there was to be any direct oversight or instruction. Give him a general task to do, say for example pruning the trees in an apple orchard, and he would accomplish it in fine fashion as long as he was left alone. On the other hand, try to tell him how to go about a job and it was time, right then, to look for someone else. Call him mulish, obdurate, difficult, obstreperous, or downright ornery; it didn’t matter. He was his own man and that was the long and short of the matter. He would neither gee nor haw to another man’s demands or commands, and many another mountaineer shared his outlook.
Indeed, in days gone by, and not all that far in the past, many folks living in the more rural areas of the Smokies were never happier than when their nearest neighbor lived two or three hollows away. On the other hand, let a family fall on hard times, or someone need a barn built, and willing hands were there to help. Corn shuckin’s, taffy pulls, molasses makin’, barn buildings, hog markin’s, quilting parties, and a host of other activities meant togetherness, and neighborliness tempered by a keen awareness of the importance of “space” marks the mountain man.
Another area of common ground, and it is one which survives and even thrives today among those with roots running deep in the soil of the high country, is an ability to “make do.” If I heard the phrase “make do with what you’ve got” once as a youngster, I heard it a thousand times. My family was fairly typical in that regard, inasmuch as we raised a big garden, fattened hogs every year for butchering in the fall, had an annual goal of 200 quarts of canned green beans and a hundred jars of apples, and supplemented our table fare to an appreciable degree with nature’s rich bounty. That bounty took such forms as small game (squirrels, rabbits, grouse, quail, and the occasional ground hog or ‘coon); wild berries including strawberries, dewberries, blackberries, and huckleberries; native nuts (especially black walnuts), poke salad, and trout. In today’s fishing world it is de rigueur for the trout fisherman to practice catch-and-release, and in some streams (such as the delayed harvest sections of the Tuckasegee and Nantahala) it is mandatory for several months each year.
Yet my mother considered turning fish loose just about the ultimate act of foolishness, as much at odds with “make do” as was humanly possible. Her approach was not catch-and-release but release-to-grease, and anyone who has yet to dine on fresh-caught trout dressed up in cornmeal dinner jackets and fried to a golden brown has lived a life of culinary deprivation. If it happens to be the spring of the year and those trout can be flanked by a “kilt” salad containing ramps and branch lettuce, so much the better.
Running closely parallel to “make do” was the concept of “waste not, want not.” No nail or screw, no section of sawed lumber or fallen hardwood, not to mention table scraps, was thrown away. There was always going to be a use for anything made of metal; downed trees could be turned into fuel for wood-burning stoves or fireplaces; and scraps fed the chickens, went into hog slop, or offered food for the family’s hunting dogs. Frugality, in short, was a byword for life.
Another phrase I heard uttered on a frequent basis was “poor but proud.” The whole concept of welfare, dependence on government help, or reliance on others was pretty much alien. That isn’t to suggest that mountains folks weren’t giving and helpful when someone was down on their luck, because a philanthropic streak ran deep in their souls even if the word philanthropy lay outside their vocabulary. By the same token, a sound work ethic was pretty much a given, and any man or woman lacking that was looked down upon, with descriptions such as “trifling” or “no account” being applied to such individuals (and they were rare).
Other examples of “making” do went beyond the essentials of eking out a hardscrabble living. Youngsters didn’t have and didn’t need “play purties” bought with cash money. Instead, their playthings involved hands on craftsmanship. This might mean the construction of cane fishing poles complete with the malleable lead coverings from roofing nails as sinkers or simple home-made toys in forms such as slingshots, corn shuck dolls, whimmydiddles, fluttermills, and the like. Yet I feel reasonably certain that a boy with a slingshot he had made from a carefully selected dogwood fork, shaped and carved with his own pocket knife and outfitted with a leather patch and straps of inner tube rubber, could find at least as much joy in that item as a youngster of today does from an iPod or video games.
There are other character traits which certainly merit mention. Loyalty, the ability to hate long and hold a grudge even longer, quick tempers, deep and abiding religious faith, susceptibility to suspicion that could sometimes verge on paranoia, and stoicism in the face of even the harshest adversity all belong as components of mountain character. If you are a staunch son or daughter of the high country, ask yourself if some of the above-mentioned traits are ones which would describe your approach to life. Conversely, if you are an “outlander” (and with each passing year an increasing number of area residents fall into that category), maybe you will have at least a bit more insight on what comprises, to borrow from Emma Bell Miles, the spirit which shapes mountain folkways and behavior.
I hope you enjoyed Jim’s post as much as I do.
Since folks were having trouble with the new comment form I have went back to the previous one. Hopefully that will fix the issues a few of you were having when trying to comment.
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All these traits can be summed up in a good old Ulster Scots word Tipper, ” Thran”.
I like the message. I can relate to all of it.
wonderful !! thankyou for sharing
Something I will remember to my dying day, when I was about 12 or 13 years old at about this time of year my Daddy had worked sick until he could work no more and was put in the hospital. The job he worked at only paid a little above minimum wage, if you could not work you did not get paid. I remember one day Mother praying and telling me I am out of nearly all food, we don’t have money to buy kerosene for the heater and don’t have any firewood. That same day our neighbor brought a stacked pickup truck load of firewood to us and the men Daddy worked and carpooled with came in with the back seat and trunk of 1953 Ford full of groceries. His coworkers had gave him a “pounding”. My aunt bought me the first full box (25) of shotgun shells I ever own, until then I bought my shells 5 at a time at the local country store. That is all I got that year but it was one of my best Christmas, Daddy was home getting better and I had a full box of shotgun shells. Just an example of neighbors and friends lookin out and helping one another. The neighbor would have been insulted if you had tried to pay him for the wood. I almost forgot this, we had a hog that some of the other neighbors helped butcher that year for us. I have spent my life trying to help hardworking people out in times of need. My Bible says that a man that won’t work don’t eat!
Release to grease! I love it!
“ Her approach was not catch-and-release but release-to-grease, …”. Boy that made me laugh. My long suffering (lol) husband would agree that is a likely description of me. I pretty much knew those traits came from my mother’s Stewart side of the family as they came from Scotch Irish people who trickled down Appalachia into every Southern state until they ended up in the Ozarks and on to Wyoming, and me, now living in North Idaho in the mountains. You can’t take it out of the blood. I’m blessed to live in a mountain community that is almost like a step back in time. People will go out of their way to help a neighbor but will then get on with their life and mind their own business. Yes, church is where we meet, eat together, fellowship, and worship our Lord. Finding Tipper’s blog and utube channel has been such a blessing and confirmation of my ancestry.❤️
I can relate to everything Jim said and the comments too. That bit about “Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without” was the way my family lived and it has stuck with me all of my life. I would not trade my growing up years with most of the kids today. God gave us two hands to work with and we were taught to use them to make a living. Thanks Tipper for sharing Jim’s writings. Prayers continue for Granny and all the family.
Yesterday a mountainman friend of mine rolled a truck while repairing the washed out road up to his Hogback Mountain home here in Maine. When that home burned to the ground a few years ago folks around here came together to help the Martin family rebuild. They remembered that when this area was paralized by an ice storm that blocked roads and downed power lines Glen was out with his chainsaw before dawn every day. He had a truckload of fire wood and jugs of water. He made sure his neighbors in greatest need were able to survive those 16 days this part of Maine was without power. There are lots of Glens in this world. Many, including my friend Glen, see the world through eyes that are different from mine. What I have learned spending virtually every Wednesday evening on the mountain at a pot luck with the mountain folks of this county is not that they are better or purer or less imperfect than flatlanders or snowbirds or folks from away is that we all have a human side, a good empathetic honorable caring side, and we all have a darker short sighted inhuman side that makes cartoons of others. That side of us, all of US, conjure up supermen and saints as well as villains and sinners unworthy of our empathy or assistance. There are real differences among us in terms of who really steps up to do the right thing, to help themselves and their neighbors. But few of those heroes among us are anywhere near perfect. I am human and inhuman. I have a strong work ethic and genuinely care about other people, but I have faults and weaknesses and have often made cartoons of others as Glen too often does and we all do. I love and respect my mountain neighbors. What they have taught me, however, is that living on the mountain is no excuse for looking down on the flatlanders. If my world is populated by heroes and villains, valleys where pathetic weak lazy folks dwell versus places where self sufficient men of steel leap from the mountain tops we are living in a comic book world. I love my mountain friends here in Maine. I found much in Jim Casada’s post that parallels the world I live in here. I suspect, however, that many readers pay almost no attention to the realities that Jim alludes to in the closing lines of his post. We are all human and inhuman, caring and indifferent to others, hot and cold. It is not where we live, mountains or valleys, deserts or jungles, cities or very rural hilly heavily forested areas as I do. I totally agree there are lots of mountain folk, country folks, who live independent lives and step up to help their neighbors who experience catastrophic events. I don’t believe making my dear friend Glen or any other mointain man into a cartoon hero is really showing him the kind of respect that he or they deserves. In the human/inhuman balance my dear big hearted hard working friend is a warm human and a bull headed cold windy inhuman being as well. He is complicated. We all are. He is definitely not a cartoon in my mind, but he is one of my heroes. I hope he gets well soon and will be there to help his family get through this very difficult time on their mountain.
Very well stated, Mike.
Obduracy- That was a new one on me. I didn’t know what it meant, so I asked my lovely wife. She didn’t know either, and suggested I look it up in the dictionary, I politely replied, “Don’t tell me what to do!”, and then a light went on in my head! Very clever!
Thank you Tipper and Jim, I really enjoyed today’s post – as I do all of them! I believe, though, that kids back then had much more joy in making and owning a sling shot (or any other home-made toy) as compared to the youngsters of today with iPod or video games. Many, not all, sit for hours comatose staring at these electronics mentioned.
Jim’s writings about the traits of mountain people, remind me a lot of my own people on my mother’s side. They are all gone now, but reading this post brought so many of them to mind. I don’t recall any of them raising hogs, but mom always talked about when her dad would save up to buy a slaughtered hog from the neighbors to put up for the winter. I wish now I had written down the stories they told when we all went to visit. When you’re young you don’t appreciate hearing the stories of them growing up, until you’re grown and it’s to late because they have all gone on from this world.
In New England, it’s the same:
“The hand that knows his business won’t be told to do work faster or better — those two things.”
Robert Frost
God bless you friends of Appalachia God bless Granny Wilson with healing and health
Jim clearly and eloquently stated the mindset and behavior of the Appalachian people.
I enjoyed the article very much, it brings back a lot of memories. Jim said poke salad and we called it poke sallet, I still eat it and like it, I put some in the freezer this year, it was quite abundant in our area.
As a child I remember going with my dad and mom to the woods one day, daddy cut the bark away from a tree of some sort and then peeled the underneath part of it to get that layer to put new cane on our chairs, he did a beautiful job caning them. We were poor but everyone we knew were poor also, EXCEPT as a child I didn’t know we were poor. I wouldn’t trade my bringing up for today’s, children today doesn’t know much except cell phones etc.
I made a statement not long ago and said “ I was give out” meaning I was extremely tired and a person ask me what that meant, we always used that and I guess I thought everyone else did. Haha
wow! I’m not from your region. but Jim really described many of my traits. I truly dislike living in the city and yearn to move where I don’t see another house or hear another lawn mower or car. Most people think I’m a bit crazy for that wish because they think I’d be lonely. But truly, there’s no lonlier place than a neighborhood where people find it hard to even wave a greeting. I love visiting but I also love my solitude–just me and God in lovely nature.
Thank you, Tipper, for sharing this post, and thank you, Jim, for the succinct descriptions. It’s so nice to know that I have kinfolk even though we’ve never met. I send my love and many blessings to you and yours.
Every single one of those characteristics can be found in my family, including the Cherokee/Tsalagi side. One of the “glues” that made for good neighbors and spread out community was the local mountain church. Church dinners after services provided a great deal of joy and social life. Very nearly every mountain church had benches and tables under an outdoor pavilion with a roof so that these dinners were in the shade and out of the rain. Fried chicken was always there and all those special casseroles and desserts too. Hamburgers weren’t heard of in those days because beef was expensive. Tea and lemonade always made an appearance too. It was a chance to catch up with our neighbors two or three hollers away. The church was the center of social life.
Beautiful writing. Jim is a gifted wordsmith. I think he would agree that Grandpa Joe wouldn’t have made it in Marine Corps boot camp.
Most of the people who originally came to the mountains and stayed put were the ones who didn’t work and play well with others, or who had reason to mistrust the Law, such as it was. If you want to understand the flatland South, watch Gone with the Wind; if you want to understand the mountain South, watch Braveheart.
According to Jim’s descriptions, I must be at least half Mountainfolk!
Words crafted by a master wordsmith, which brings to “light” not only a people but a mindset that is so ingrained it is undeniable and precious all in one fell swoop as we say… .Thanks for sharing I can hear my ancestors ” Amening” from across the great divide.
A great read today by Jim especially about his independent grandpa Joe. Back in the day in our family, the term was “ I never drove another’s man’s car, slept in another’s man’s bed, never ate at another’s man table. In other words, save your money until you could pay for what you wanted. Never go in DEBT to the other man.
Everyone enjoy the day. Prayers for your mother, Israel and our country.
Jim’s words are always welcome and enjoyed.
Much of the things Jim wrote about describes me, my family and neighbors. One of the things that stood out for me was we did not want anyone living close to us, but we enjoyed visiting our neighbors and when they were having problems we were always there to help one another. Another thing is “making do”, I am bad to save things thinking I might be able to us it for something else. My Granddaddy would even save old nails, sometimes even bent ones he would straighten and reuse. Going back to living close, today every time I pass these housing developments with the roofs of the homes almost touching, I catch myself saying “thank you God for me not having to live in a place like that”.
Randy, I say to myself “American by birth, Southerner by the grace of God.” I could add “Proud of my country upbringing and ways.”
Gene, this is late, but I say Amen to your comment. I know I would be considered backwards, countrified and other similar things by a lot of the world but I am proud of who I am and my upbringing and southern country ways.
Appalachian folk have so much character! Jim and Tipper really have a way with words. While my dad was from rural Indiana, he had a lot of these traits. So amazing! My dad did things his way and, at least in my eyes he could do anything. I never remember repairman coming to my house. He did it all. No one ever told my dad how to do things. Fixed things as big as cars and as small as repairing my eyeglasses. He was kind,mild and sweet and even though he has been gone many years I still miss him so much.
I truly enjoyed Jim’s post because the familiarity of the high country character looms across many states and regions. Whenever I think of my father, born in 1908, I think of his work ethic, stoicism, few words, and get-on-with-it attitude of life. He grew up dirt poor with his seven siblings, following the early death of their father, and rarely had enough to eat. Into his elder years he savored ice cream as having it was the rarest of occasions as a child. My dad taught himself to build furniture out of necessity, and we all grew up with his many beautiful pieces, all handmade by himself in the basement. He was profoundly talented in so many ways, but gentle, humble, stubborn, and insistent that all work was completed and done right. Brings tears to my eyes to think on him to this day though he’s been gone 41 years. The strength of the character Jim writes about is so true and becoming so rare that I thank God for the clear memories of my father, a man of pure strength and goodness in every way.
Tipper,
I read your posts with a smile on my face and a warm spot in my heart. I have cousins who have lived their whole life in Buncombe County. I am the outlander having grown up on the other coast. Todays post is a spitting image of my cousins, God bless them.
Hope Granny is comfortable.
Blessings,
Starr Lawson
“Use it up, wear it out. Make it do, or do without.” Words to live by.
Absolutely!
Spot on with my people. I remember some of these traits more clearly and find them in me. Even though I do not need to, make do and be savin’ with it still guides most of my daily actions. These traits run deep in my soul.
All of that describes me pretty well! Beautifully written.
Always enjoy Jim’s writing!
Wow, Jim does have a way with words, much like you do. The days of old we now cherish and pictures to go with it. How I do miss those days and people. The way words were said, and how you hear them is sometime way different. It brought to mind, when I was about 12, my Mother and a neighbor and her children were sitting on the front porch of their house and the lady of the house asked me to go get her a of Cheer or so I thought. Actually she was asking me to go get her a ‘chair’. We did have a good chuckle and it is something I will always remember. Praying for Granny and you guys.