I didn’t know it at the time, just as I’m pretty certain the same holds true for today’s youngsters growing up in the bosom of the Great Smokies, but my childhood was a blessed one. Experiences elsewhere have only reinforced that perspective.
Paris Mountain is just a few miles from our Main Street (6.9 miles via Rutherford Rd. to be exact), and makes for the ideal backdrop for your summertime plans.
While the park is now home to cool hiking trails and stunning real estate, it has quite a significant stake in South Carolina’s history.
1770: The most common story we’ve heard says that the area’s namesake, Richard Pearis, was allegedly living with a Native American chief’s daughter on a plantation along the banks of the Reedy River (in what is now downtown Greenville). During the Revolutionary War, Pearis supported the Tories and their Cherokee allies – which led to some issues from a Patriot troop, who raided his plantation, burned his mill + home, and jailed him in Charleston. Upon his release, he fled to the Bahamas.
Native Americans – specifically, members of the Cherokee tribe – called Paris Mountain (yes, spelled without the ‘e’) home until the land was forfeited to South Carolina in 1777 following the end of the Revolutionary War.
1889 – 1898: The Altamont Hotel was constructed on Paris Mountain’s summit as a summer retreat for wealthy Charleston residents who preferred mountain air + less mosquitoes to humid air + sandy beaches. The journey from downtown Greenville to the hotel took 2 hours due to terrain. It also lacked running water and eventually went out of business in 1898 and burned down in 1920.
1889 – 1918: The Paris Mountain Water Company created lakes and dams on the mountain, which provided Greenville with its first water system. Under Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, Camp Buckhorn was added to Paris Mountain and it was established as a national park.
Summer of 1917: A 1,900-acre training camp, called Camp Sevier, was built near the base of Paris Mountain for the newly-created 30th Infantry Division during World War I. This is about the same time that Eugenia Duke (who created Duke’s Mayonnaise Co.) started handing out sandwiches to soldiers at the camp.
Paris Mountain earned a place on the National Register in 1998 and has become quite the wedding hot spot with venues like Camp Buckhorn, View Point at Buckhorn Creek and the Hollow at Paris Mountain.
- By Margaret Renkl for the New York Times
Ms. Renkl covers flora, fauna, politics, and culture in the American South.
- July 9, 2018
NASHVILLE — From time to time, a debate resurfaces in Southern literary circles about whether there can still be a recognizable literature of the South in an age of mass media and Walmart. The 21st-century South would be unrecognizable to the Agrarian poets, whose 1930 manifesto, “I’ll Take My Stand,” set out many of the principles that still cling like ticks to the term “Southern writer.” Far more urban, far more ethnically and culturally and politically diverse, the South is no longer a place defined by sweet tea and slamming screen doors, and its literature is changing, too. “It is damn hard to put a pipe-smoking granny or a pet possum into a novel these days and get away with it,” the novelist Lee Smith once said.
I’m the editor of a website about Tennessee literature. Even so, I don’t spend a lot of time wondering about the defining characteristic of the Southern writer because there is surely no single quality that defines Southern writing anyway. But reading “People Only Die of Love in Movies: Film Writing by Jim Ridley,” a new book from Vanderbilt University Press, has got me to thinking about the question.
Most readers of The New York Times have probably never heard of Jim Ridley, but he was a hero in this town. A local boy who grew up in nearby Murfreesboro, he started contributing book reviews to The Tennessean, Nashville’s daily newspaper, while he was in middle school. (In his take on Mary Stewart’s Arthurian trilogy, he notes that Stewart’s Merlin “speaks like a combination of the worst elements of John Cheever, a used-car salesman, and Abigail Van Buren.” He had just turned 14 when he wrote that review.)
Mr. Ridley studied journalism and literature at Middle Tennessee State University, his hometown college. After he graduated in 1989, he started writing for the Nashville Scene, our local alt-weekly newspaper. When he died in 2016, he was the paper’s editor. He had never lived anywhere other than Middle Tennessee.
There wasn’t a single aspect of cultural life in this town that Jim Ridley didn’t chronicle with originality and wit and some of the most graceful sentences ever committed to print. During the nearly 20 years I knew him, I never ceased to marvel that my unrelentingly humble friend was the same linguistic powerhouse who kept goading this city into becoming more than the sleepy backwater of country music and Bible publishing it believed itself to be. The editor of “People Only Die of Love in Movies,” Steve Haruch, writes in its introduction, “Long before Nashville ever appeared on the national hip-city radar, Jim saw and highlighted the city’s strengths while also holding the city and the people in it to the highest standards.”
This is what the truly great writers — the great journalists, novelists, poets, playwrights — always do: They know their communities from the inside out, as full members, and they tell the truth about what they know. Physician, heal thyself.
Great writers everywhere do the same thing, but the South’s legacy of slavery and its overt and enduring racism make the truth a Southern writer speaks especially urgent — never more so than now, when our president and his enablers stoke the lie of white supremacy, in their words and deeds, nearly every day.
Looking at the pile of forthcoming books on my desk, I was startled to realize that “People Only Die of Love in Movies” isn’t the only posthumous work of literary art coming out this month by a Tennessee writer who found his own hometown both vexing and endlessly fascinating: There’s also “The Lost Country,” a new novel by William Gay, who lived almost his entire life in Hohenwald, just southwest of Nashville. “Mr. Gay wrote about rustic Tennessee with an inside observer’s eye for local color and a hyperbolist’s delight in regional idiosyncrasies,” a 2012 obituary in this newspaper noted.
Among the living Tennessee homebodies with new releases, there’s the Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer Jon Meacham, whose nonfiction book “The Soul of America” was released in May. There’s the novelist Kevin Wilson, who grew up and still lives on the Cumberland Plateau: His new story collection, “Baby, You’re Gonna Be Mine,” will be published next month. There’s the novelist Ann Patchett, whose new nonfiction book about Nashville, a joint project with the photographer Heidi Ross, is coming out in November. Ms. Patchett lives two blocks from where she grew up.
People can hardly help loving the hands that rocked their cradles or the landscapes that shaped their souls, but I doubt there’s a single writer in the South for whom life here isn’t a source of deep ambivalence. And yet all the writers I’ve mentioned had opportunities to leave — many actually did leave for a time before returning to stay.
It has all made me wonder: What if being a Southern writer has nothing to do with rural tropes or lyrical prose or a lush landscape or humid heat so thick it’s hard to breathe? What if being a Southern writer is foremost a matter of growing up in a deeply troubled place and yet finding it somehow impossible to leave? Of seeing clearly the failings of home and nevertheless refusing to flee?
I honestly don’t know if I’m right about this. For one thing, Southerners don’t hold the copyright on a close connection to home, and there are many exceptions to the rule anyway. Historically, African-American writers tended to leave the South as fast as they could, and for obvious reasons.
Still. Think about William Faulkner and Flannery O’Connor and Eudora Welty, the great pillars of what we think of as Southern literature. Among the living, think about the novelist Jesmyn Ward in Mississippi. Think about the novelists Josephine Humphreys and George Singleton in South Carolina. Think about Wendell Berry and Silas House and Bobbie Ann Mason and Frank X. Walker in Kentucky. Think about the playwright Katori Hall in Memphis, and the poets T. J. Jarrett and Caroline Randall Williams here in Nashville. They’re all living and writing in the very places where they were born.
I think of my old friend Jim Ridley — I think of all these writers, old and young, living and dead — and here’s what crosses my mind: Maybe being a Southern writer has always been more than stereotypes of ceiling fans and panting dogs in dirt yards. Maybe being a Southern writer is only a matter of loving a damaged and damaging place, of loving its flawed and beautiful people, so much that you have to stay there, observing and recording and believing, against all odds, that one day it will finally live up to the promise of its own good heart.
Guest Post written by Garland Davis for Blind Pig and the Acorn
There was the incident of the Billy goat. The doctor had prescribed goat’s milk for my grandmother and my dad came home one Saturday morning with three or four nanny goats and a Billy. Look up worthless in the dictionary and you will see a picture of a Billy goat. I can tell you, they really get mad if you cut their beards off. A whippin’ for that one. But that isn’t the story I am trying to tell here.
I had seen a TV show where the hero roped a wild bull and saved the damsel. I had a rope which I fashioned into a lasso. I was roping anything I could. My brothers went along for a while. They would run and I would chase them swinging my loop and try to rope them. Finally, one of them said, “Why don’t you try to catch the Billy goat.”
Now this seemed like a good idea to me. I chased after the goat trying to swing the loop. He would either outrun me or turn and chase me. I came up with a brilliant plan. I would tie the rope to a fence post and my brothers could chase ole Billy past me and I would rope him. Fantastic plan!
They got ole Billy up to a dead run and as he approached I swung the loop and floated it out toward his head. Now I tell you, neither Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, nor Hopalong Cassidy ever threw a more perfect loop. Right over ole Billy’s head. He hit the end of that rope at a dead run; his feet flew out from under him; bam he hit the ground and didn’t move. Stone cold dead.
We knew we were dead too when daddy found out. I gathered the rope and hid it in the barn. We ran off and volunteered to hoe mama’s garden, trying to build up as much good will as possible before the storm hit.
Right on time daddy came home from work. We had a routine, as soon as he got home we would go to the barn, milk the cow and goats, clean the stalls and feed them and the pigs. We dreaded going to the barn. Dad was in a hurry as usual and rushed us toward our doom. As we turned the corner of the barn, we saw ole Billy standing out there eating grass. I was suddenly convinced that prayers were answered and vowed to be more attentive in Sunday School.
WALLY SMITH29 JUN 18 for Blue Ridge Outdoors
A largely undiscovered oasis in the coalfields is helping communities rebuild.
My hiking partner and I have been walking the Kentucky-Virginia border for an hour across the crest of Pine Mountain, tiptoeing over a knife-edge of sandstone to a rock shelter below the summit. The outcrop is massive, with a hollowed-out area large enough to fit a three-story house. It’s the kind of place a person might choose to ride out the apocalypse.
As the cliffline shades us into darkness under a June sun, my companion sums up the experience with a single word: “Whoa.”
Pine Mountain has that way of sneaking up on people. It’s far from the East’s tallest point, and it hosts no federally-designated wilderness areas. It’s not even your typical mountain: the 125-mile ridgeline, running from Jellico, Tenn. northeastward to Breaks Interstate Park, is technically the uppermost lip of a tilted mass of rock that was broken and uplifted nearly 300 million years ago.
But spend some time on Pine Mountain, and any obscurity fades away quickly. “It feels like it was almost designed in a laboratory,” says Phil Meeks, a Virginia Cooperative Extension agent, and avid hiker. “Just when you get to the point where you think you’re going to have a boring walk, you come across something new that catches your attention.”
Pine Mountain’s secrets have been steadily gaining notoriety, from long-distance hiking options to popular ultramarathons traversing its slopes. But as that outdoor recreation landscape takes shape, it’s also running up against challenges indicative of the southern Appalachians’ changing economic and cultural climate. In fact, the mountain’s role in creating rifts among users while bridging deep economic divides may hold valuable lessons for an entire region in flux.
Tracing Historic Trails
It’s easy to find those lessons on the Pine Mountain State Scenic Trail, a linear component of Kentucky’s state park system. James Stapleton, president of the Pine Mountain Trail Conference, says that the 40-mile footpath didn’t just materialize in a marketing meeting. “We’ve constructed trail,” Stapleton says, “but basically we used what once were prehistoric animal trails that were adopted by Native Americans and by European settlers.”
Today, those routes trace a continuous pathway from Elkhorn City, Ky. to U.S. 119 above the town of Whitesburg, passing sandstone arches, high-elevation wetlands, and overlooks galore. The Conference’s ultimate goal is to extend the trail southwest to Cumberland Gap National Historical Park, although getting there now requires a lengthy roadwalk from the trail’s southern terminus. Stapleton says work is ongoing to get some of that route off of pavement and into the woods.
The route has also caught the eye of the Great Eastern Trail, a proposed 1,600-mile pathway leading from Alabama to New York. Pine Mountain’s footpath sits as a sort of blazed island in the midst of the Appalachian coalfields—what Stapleton calls a “fingernail” of intact forest—waiting for a connection to be built north to Matewan, W.Va.
Making those connections means raising the trail’s profile, and that’s just what the route has been seeing in recent years. Meeks cites a growing number of out-of-state hikers as evidence of increased use, while Breaks Interstate Park—located across the Russell Fork from Elkhorn City—has recently added rock climbing options and a zipline attraction. “There’s a growing interest in making this area an ecotourism destination,” he says.
A “Green Strip”
For Hugh Archer, that transformation means more than just a walking path. A former executive director of the Kentucky Natural Lands Trust, Archer has worked for years with the Trust to protect the mountain, which serves as a biological oasis in an area that has otherwise experienced intense disturbance. “It’s this green strip up through the eastern coalfields,” he says.
Part of what’s saved Pine Mountain is that its rugged ridgeline lacks mineable coal, the result of a geological quirk that—along with its steep terrain—has kept most of the mountain intact. Kentucky’s largest old-growth forest is found on the mountain, along with nearly 100 rare plant and animal species. Despite all of its natural wealth, though, the majority of Pine Mountain has historically been privately owned and unprotected.
Archer and others have been working to change that. To date, Archer estimates that roughly 50 percent of the top of the mountain has been bought or protected. And in the past few years, he says that the effort has been “on a roll,” with 7,000 new acres purchased.
Archer also says that protecting the mountain and enhancing outdoor recreation aren’t separate endeavors. As the region continues to suffer from the coal industry’s decline, new public lands could help route the Great Eastern Trail, providing a piece of the regional economic puzzle. “There’s no silver bullet for the mining towns, but there are silver BBs,” he says. “And we view this as one of those BBs to help communities recover.”
However, that search for economic options is also where Pine Mountain’s user conflicts begin. Communities around the mountain have recently proposed building a sprawling federal prison complex and a casino below the mountain’s summit. Those types of developments could interrupt the protected corridor that Archer and colleagues have been building. And ATV use has run into conflict with hikers along the mountain’s slopes.
“For generations, there have been people who have used the mountain in a certain way,” Meeks says. “It’s been an ATV trail for folks for a long time.” Those conflicts reached a peak in 2016 when a bill introduced in the Kentucky legislature would have opened up much of the mountain’s trails to ATVs. That bill was eventually withdrawn following public outcry, but it’s unlikely that user conflicts will stop anytime soon.
Where Pine Mountain goes from here is unclear, but it’s a region worth watching as communities across the Blue Ridge continue to adjust to rapidly changing economies. Friction between stakeholders is becoming more commonplace beyond Pine Mountain, from conflicts between timber management and hikers in North Carolina’s Big Ivy to pipeline corridors threatening the Appalachian Trail. No single area seems to have hit upon a clear solution for those issues, and the successes and failures of places like Pine Mountain may show a way forward.
Along the Kentucky-Virginia border, that path can be difficult to travel. “It’s sort of like taking a step forward and taking a step back,” Meeks says, but despite those challenges, he, Archer, and Stapleton are all optimistic about the mountain’s future.
For Archer, there’s a simple reason why. “It’s some of the best natural area left in the country,” he says. And for everyone with their sights set on the mountain, that alone seems motivation enough.
Experience Pine Mountain
Head to the Top
Pine Mountain’s highest point can be found at Birch Knob, a 3,144-foot summit with a unique observation platform offering 360-degree views into West Virginia and North Carolina. The knob also doubles as a parking area for the Pine Mountain Trail. Access the tower through Clintwood, Va.
Get Into the Woods
Blanton Forest Preserve, located outside of Harlan, Ky., offers a chance to hike through old-growth forests and snag long-range views atop the preserve’s massive Knobby Rock.
Hit the Park
Breaks Interstate Park sits astride the Kentucky-Virginia border on Pine Mountain’s northeast end. A lodge, cabins, and lake provide less-rustic options, while hiking trails plunge into the rugged Russell Fork Gorge. Recently-opened climbing routes provide access to crags reminiscent of the New River Gorge.
-BLIND PIG AND THE ACORN, JUNE 10
Folks in my area have just completed their first cutting of hay. They usually get two cuttings of hay during the summer, and if the weather shines down upon their fields in a good way they might even get three cuttings.
Putting up hay has changed a lot since I was a girl. I remember Whitmire cutting hay on his large cattle farm that borders Wilson Holler. He’d hire local boys to help him and you could see them hot, sweaty, and I’m sure itchy as they threw the square bales onto the back of a slow moving truck. These days its all the large round bales that have to be moved with a tractor.
Jump farther back in time and you can see an even more drastic change in hay cutting time.
When Pap was a boy they cut hay by hand. He told me they only cut hay once a summer in those days. As time went by and things advanced in the mountains of western NC Pap’s family used a cutting machine that was pulled by a team of horses to cut hay. Pap said when that happened they thought they had hit the big time. Cutting hay with a machine and horses was easier and it was so much faster than cutting by hand.
A rake behind a horse or mule was used to pile the hay and pitchforks were used to throw it on the back of a wagon. If you were lucky enough to have a big barn, Pap said you stored the hay in the loft.
Folks that didn’t have a barn or needed more hay than the barn would hold, would cut a small tree, four or five inches thick, and cut the limbs down to where they were short and stubby. The tree was placed in the ground and the hay was thrown around it into a pile of sorts. Pap said the hay actually lasted pretty good with the tree method, not as good as inside a barn, but good enough to provide for the animals.
Over the weekend I had the good fortune of talking to one of Pap’s old friends Bass Hyatt. Bass grew up in Brasstown and went to school with Pap at the old Odgen School. His family has been in the cattle business for generations.
Bass told me when he was just a boy the hay had to be replanted each year. The type of spreading creeping grass we have today hadn’t been introduced in this area so the fields had to be harred and the seed put in the ground each spring. That was an extra burden placed on top of the whole cut it by hand part. Bass said “My daddy taught me to pile the hay in a tall stack and I did it enough that I got pretty good at doing it.”
by Bill Graham, Asst. Editor GraciousRoots
I’m pretty sure I lingered too long on object permanence during childhood development – almost certainly at the expense of several other necessities – and it has haunted me to this day.
As a little guy, I was preoccupied with that famous flag the astronauts left on the moon, perched there in the eternal dust, unaware of the chaotic planet swirling down below. (I was also sure that I’d be able to see it with the tabletop telescope Santa owed me, and I was left bitterly disappointed on that).
Another example: in high school, I’d step to the free throw line, and, to block out crowd noise, I’d close my eyes and picture the granite alongside my favorite swimming hole, in the starlight, still warm from the sun, there for the millennia and with no plans to go anywhere and completely indifferent to my plight in a small, sweaty gym in Sylva. Then I’d open my eyes and calmly brick the foul shot.
More recently I sat in a third-floor window of a restaurant in Charleston, looking down on King Street, and I noticed an iron flagpole bracket outside the glass, affixed to the wall a couple of centuries back, and long since forgotten. How many parades had it seen? What flags had it held? Could it see Sumter from its vantage point? So many questions.
Anyway, here’s a window handle tucked away in Sylva, NC corroded shut long ago. During every single triumph or tragedy of your life, no matter how much pain or pleasure you felt, this window handle looked more or less exactly like this.
WHAT’S IN OUR RIVERS?
Most of us don’t know.Here’s a quick guide to the health of the water you paddle, fish, swim, and drink.
Kentucky’s Stoney Fork isn’t supposed to run an otherworldly shade of translucent red, but that’s what Matt Hepler found in late March last year. Hepler, a water scientist, says the color was due to an upstream storage tank leaking potassium permanganate, a chemical used in treating acid mine drainage. Hepler’s photos of the discolored creek went viral on social media.
The spill wasn’t an isolated case for Appalachian rivers. As many as 10,000 gallons of chemicals leaked into West Virginia’s Elk River in 2014, leaving a quarter million people without potable water. Just six years earlier, millions of cubic yards of coal ash flooded the mouth of the Emory River in Kingston, Tenn.
Those incidents all pose fundamental questions about the health of our waterways, but diving deeper into their answers often means descending into a maddening blend of jargon and legalese. Terms like 303(d) impairment and Section 319 funding all complicate an easy understanding of issues that have impacts on each of us. What’s really happening to our rivers, and how do those issues affect the millions of people across the Blue Ridge who rely on them for drinking water and as places to swim, paddle, or fish?
Kentucky’s Stoney Fork was discolored in early 2017 by a leak of Potassium Permanganate, a chemical used in treating Acid Mine drainage.
We Are What We Drink
“Every aspect of what we do in our daily lives affects our water quality,” says Stephanie Kreps, a water manager with the Virginia Department of Environmental Quality. The host of threats to water quality is so pervasive that it’s virtually impossible to find a major watershed anywhere across the Blue Ridge that doesn’t have at least some of its streams suffering from water quality impairments.
Headline-grabbing incidents like the 2014 Elk River spill justifiably dominate our public dialogue about water quality, but less-visible issues like sediment and bacteria are often even more dangerous. These types of pollution often stem from “non-point” sources, a regulatory term meaning that they cannot be traced to a single location like a pipe or the site of an accidental spill. Instead, any number of sources dispersed across thousands of square miles of land can all contribute pollutants to the same waterway.
In Southern Appalachia, disturbed lands for development, logging, and surface mines expose large amounts of sediment that can eventually make its way into nearby rivers. It’s more than just runoff; the increased sediment load causes higher concentrations of salt and selenium downstream of mining activities. A 2017 Duke University study showed that several streams impacted by mountaintop removal mining in West Virginia now run consistently saltier for up to 80 percent of the year.
While elevated sediment and salinity levels may sound like a minor issue, they can spell huge problems for the overall stability of the stream ecosystem. Those impacts often show up first in animals like aquatic insects that thrive along the stream bottom, creating ripple effects throughout the stream’s food web, all the way up to fish populations.
In other cases, excess levels of contaminants like selenium can cause different problems altogether. A 2010 study of West Virginia’s Mud River watershed found physical deformities in a number of fish species—including game fish like bluegill and largemouth bass—as a result of selenium toxicity.
Then the hard work of addressing those sources of pollutants begins. “How are we going to fix this?” Kreps asks. That question is answered through the development of an implementation plan, where Kreps says state and federal agencies work with nonprofits, community members, and other stakeholders to draft a blueprint for reversing a stream’s pollution issues. It’s a process that may take years, but it’s a key step in securing the financial resources needed to help communities address polluted streams.
Up Sh*t Creek
Upper Tennessee River Roundtable Executive Director Carol Doss has spent much of her time in recent years grappling with another nonpoint source pollutant: bacteria. The cause of bacterial problems in most streams is fecal coliform contamination, the scientific term for bacteria that originate in the large intestines of warm-blooded animals. The proverbial bear shitting in the woods can be a source of fecal coliform issues, but problems really begin when human waste enters the picture.
Doss mentions that unmaintained septic systems and pet or livestock waste are major sources of fecal coliform bacteria in regional streams. “I think it’s something people don’t think a lot about,” Doss says, but without appropriate control measures, “it’s going to get into the water somewhere.”
Among the cocktail of pathogens commonly found in fecal coliform contamination is E. coli, which can cause gastrointestinal illness in swimmers, boaters, and other users that might accidentally ingest untreated water. In other cases, viral pathogens like those causing hepatitis can even hitchhike with the bacteria found in untreated sewage, further enhancing public health threats.
Many areas have programs that help landowners repair failing septic systems or remediate erosion issues, but those projects can be time-consuming and expensive to complete, especially for low-income residents. Plus, nonpoint source issues can present communication hurdles since they are often not as visible as something like a pipe discharging wastewater into a stream. “With nonpoint sources coming from all over,” Doss says, “you don’t immediately know where (pollutants) are coming from if you see them in a stream.”
Regulating a River
By contrast, identifying and regulating those known locations—called point sources—is much more straightforward. That’s thanks in part to the Clean Water Act, a landmark environmental law that governs how both point and nonpoint sources are regulated.
While the law doesn’t prevent the release of contaminants into waterways outright, it does establish a licensing system that controls the amount of pollutants—everything from treated sewage to chemical waste to even water artificially warmed by industrial processes—that a facility can release into a waterbody. The resulting permits obtained by those facilities allow for regulators to track wastewater discharges and ensure that pollutant levels remain within the safe confines of regulatory standards.
Today, the number of permitted discharge facilities spread across the Blue Ridge numbers in the thousands, ranging from large facilities like the region’s power plants to mining outfalls and even the small wastewater treatment plants serving the region’s subdivisions and ski resorts.
The value of permitting point sources is that regulators can keep track of individual facilities and issue penalties for violations, but that doesn’t mean that those regulations are without controversy. As one example, communities across the Blue Ridge are currently embroiled in a long-term battle over the storage of coal ash—a chemical-laden residue that results from burning coal—in constructed ponds near waterways. Lawsuits and public outcry over coal ash disposal have raged in recent years, especially at coal ash ponds along the French Broad River, James River, and Potomac River.
These often-unlined storage leak toxic pollutants into waterways, aquifers, and drinking water sources. The Southern Environmental Law Center has been engaging in legal action related to coal ash across multiple Southeastern states, including filing a 2017 lawsuit against Duke Energy over its coal ash storage at a power plant near Charlotte, citing elevated levels of arsenic, mercury, and other toxic pollutants in waterways near the site.
Solving the region’s water quality challenges ultimately comes down to one thing: awareness. Doss’s organization, Upper Tennessee River Roundtable, works across the thousands of square miles to enhance public understanding of water quality threats. Doss says that people “just light up” once the acronyms and jargon surrounding water quality topics are broken down into real-world terms. “They want to help do something good for the environment,” she says.
Anglers and paddlers are especially important in providing input. A recent project led by recreational groups to develop a new put-in along one Virginia stream discovered a location where a nearby building was straight-piping untreated sewage directly into the waterway. “You can’t beat the local context of somebody who lives on the ground,” Kreps says.
And what about monitoring wastewater discharges or catching accidental spills like the one that discolored Kentucky’s Stoney Fork? Public awareness has a critical role to play there, too. Savage and Hepler both say that citizen involvement is a crucial step in identifying and addressing water quality violations. In fact, Hepler says that he originally became aware of problems with Stoney Fork while traveling to investigate a citizen complaint at a nearby stream.
Join a water monitoring group, or submit reports to your state’s environmental agency if you’re out on the river and see something that doesn’t look right. Even the small step of vocally supporting healthy rivers can empower others to action, says Erin Savage, program manager at Appalachian Voices. “Get the word out within your community that you are aware of water quality issues and you value clean, public water.”
Potomac River (West Virginia/Virginia/Maryland)
The Potomac was named the nation’s most endangered river in 2012 by nonprofit American Rivers due to pollution from agricultural and urban land uses. Ongoing issues with coal ash disposal are causing further concern within the Potomac watershed.
Chattahoochee and Apalachicola Rivers (Georgia/Alabama/Florida)
Increasing water demand and pollution from expanding suburban populations in the Atlanta area are putting a strain on wildlife and human populations downstream, triggering a decades-long legal battle among stakeholders.
Dan River (North Carolina/Virginia)
A February 2014 leak of an estimated 39,000 tons of coal ash entered the Dan River from a Duke Energy steam facility in Eden, North Carolina, causing concern about potential contamination from metals and other pollutants for miles downstream.
Elk River (West Virginia)
A 2014 chemical leak into the Elk River left several hundred thousand residents without drinking water and raised national awareness about the health of Appalachian streams.
Emory River (Tennessee)
A ruptured dike at a waste containment area near the confluence of the Emory and Clinch Rivers resulted in the largest release of coal ash in U.S. history in 2008.
Saluda River: (South Carolina)
The Saluda, which cascades off of the Blue Ridge into the South Carolina Piedmont, has been plagued by bacterial contamination in recent years. Several guides, outfitters, and other businesses filed a 2017 lawsuit against a regional utility provider, alleging a loss of business due to pollution in the river.
How Can You Actually Do Something About Water Quality?
KNOW your watershed
What stream does runoff from your community end up in? Is it safe to swim, fish, or float a nearby river? The USEPA’s How’s My Waterway? tool allows you to enter a zip code or town and receive info on the status of streams that are found nearby. https://watersgeo.epa.gov/mywaterway
Know your point sources
Concerned about what might be getting discharged into your favorite river? Most states keep searchable, online lists of permitted point sources. North Carolina has even assembled its permitted point sources into a map showing the location of each. https://deq.nc.gov/about/divisions/water-resources
Most major watersheds across the Blue Ridge have nonprofit organizations dedicated to preserving and improving the condition of nearby streams. Find and join your nearest watershed advocacy group to keep track of events in your area. Most organizations host regular public events such as stream cleanups or events to train citizens in water quality monitoring.
Chris Worthy, Contributing Writer/ for Upstate Parent. Published 12:00 a.m. ET April 12, 2018
Health and fitness goals should be as unique as the person making them, but sometimes a reality check and some good advice can mean the difference between success and never getting started.
Pete Townley, head trainer and co-owner of The Upstate Performance Project, focuses heavily on education in training athletes and individuals. He said the myth persists that women should not lift weights.
“I think the biggest thing is that it’s 2018 and we’ve known for many, many years that strength training – resistance training – is one of the fundamental elements of an overall healthy lifestyle,” he said. “You are going to have to touch weights to do that.”
While Townley’s female clients certainly can have the goal of bodybuilding or being a strength athlete, those are specific goals that require targeted effort. But Townley said some women think any type of weight lifting will lead to bodybuilder muscles.
“As a personal trainer, one of the things I hear literally daily is ‘I just want to tone up,’” he said. “What they mean is they want the muscles to look good and they want to be lean. That means we need to lose body fat. Resistance training, cardiovascular training and nutrition are the three big factors.”
If losing body fat is the goal, just breaking a sweat or engaging in moderate intensity exercise for a long period of time – like walking on a treadmill – likely won’t be the most effective way to spend precious gym time.
“There’s a place for that, but it’s not necessarily the best way to lose body fat,” Townley said. “The muscle itself has to be strong and effective to work properly. It actually uses stored fat to help maintain its shape. You can’t get that way if you don’t do strength training. You won’t get bulky unless you want to get bulky. If you want to get big and bulky, lifting weights is the way to do it, but lifting weights alone won’t get you big and bulky.”
It is possible to maintain lean muscle tissue and lose body fat if toning up is the goal.
“Your muscles will look better, and you’ll have those lines you want, but you won’t get them without strength training,” Townley said. “As personal trainers, there’s a science behind fitness. There are a million different things you can do to lose weight quickly, but they aren’t necessarily healthy and don’t set you up for the long haul. The goal should be to get clients to a level of self-sufficiency. We are teaching them to be healthy individuals. Strength training is a huge part of that.”
While weights may look intimidating, Townley said getting help and finding what is fun for you is the key to making it a part of a healthy lifestyle that can continue for decades to come.
“Sometimes when people talk to me about their goals, they don’t want them to sound superficial or vain,” he said. “Your goals are your goals.”
Townley offers a free consultation to help create a roadmap to achieve those goals. He said getting the advice of a trainer can make all the difference.
“It’s an appropriate goal, with an appropriate timeline,” he said. “If you have a goal, there is a way to get there, especially if it’s to be healthy and fit. There are people to help you.”
Learn more at upstateperformanceproject.com.
Blind Pig & The Acorn (Blog)
Do you wave at folks you pass on the road? Around here some folks wave at every person they meet while other’s don’t wave at anybody-even if they know them.
Several years ago a sweet lady named Lise wrote a guest post for me about what she called the car wave hello. At the time, Lise hadn’t been living in the mountains very long and was surprised and pleased when she noticed other drivers waving at her as she drove about her way.
Lise really studied the various car waves she encountered on her travels through the mountains. You can read her post about the car wave hello below.
The Car Wave Hello written by Lise
One of the things I love about being in the mountains is how friendly everyone is. Almost every single solitary person you encounter says hello, is smiling at you, and is willing to carry on a conversation with you about any topic you bring up. Mostly, it seems to me people are content in these Southern Appalachian mountains.
An interesting custom my husband and I have now acquired is the “Car Wave Hello”. This is the manner in which drivers in cars passing by each other on the steep and winding mountain road indicate a friendly hello.
First please imagine that the driver of the car has their hand(s) on the steering wheel, this could be one hand or both, that is visible to the approaching driver. With that said, there are many manner of car waves:
- The Finger Wave: no, no, no, not THAT finger, the pointer finger. The lone steering hand will raise the pointer finger. At times the thumb is included in this wave, resulting in an “L” wave.
- This can also graduate to the 2, 3 and 4 finger wave, not sure what constitutes the difference, but there sure are a lot of variances in this method.
- The Full Wave: this exudes full confidence from the approaching driver and causes me to hope that their other hand is on the portion of the steering wheel I can not see.
- The Opposite Hand Wave: this driver has one visible hand on the wheel, but the other provides a full perpendicular lift to the ground and gives a full view of the palm and all 4 fingers and opposing appendage.
- The Waving Opposite Hand Wave: this driver’s wave extends the feeling to the receiving driver that this driver is a very cheery person with not a care in the world and that perhaps, just perhaps, they recognize you.
- The No Finger Head Nod Wave: every now and then you get no wave, but after you wave the approaching driver realizes “aw, shucks, I didn’t wave”.
- The Flappy/Fly Wave: for the very same reason the No Finger Head Nod Wave is given, only there is a delay in the approaching driver’s thought process and The Flappy/Fly Wave is more like, “darn it, you caught me off guard” so you get this wave not so much as an afterthought but a too late thought with no time for The Head Nod.
- The No Wave No Nod No Nothing Wave: well, what can I say, these encounters are always disappointing, but I have chosen to let it go, not knowing what the drivers mood may been.
When I am the driver, I usually have both hands on the wheel. Mostly because the road is steep and very curvy with blind approaches and very narrow lanes. I feel much more in control when I have both hands on the wheel, enabling me to execute the wave without fear of falling down into a ravine. There are times when I am relaxed and forget my both hands rule and subsequently am not thinking about the possibility of the need to execute the wave until I observe an approaching traveler from the opposite direction, unfortunately usually immediately following one of the blind curves, and I must muster the courage to produce some sort of wave, even if it is difficult for the approaching traveler to interpret or understand.
My usual is The 4 Finger Wave, with both hands on the wheel. Every now and then, I give The Opposite Hand Wave or the Flappy/Full Wave specifically for the reasons described above. No matter what, I wave by golly, because I love these winding steep mountain roads and the people I pass on them. But you bet your sweet bippie, I notice the approaching driver’s wave too 🙂
I will continue to observe the car hello wave and it’s variations, and let you know if I discover anything new. But I have to say, driving up and down the mountain is the friendliest driving experience I have ever had in my life!
I’m a car waver. I use the finger wave Lise mentioned when I’m waving at someone I don’t know and I use the opposite hand wave for folks I do know. And I think sometimes I use the four finger over the wheel wave too. I guess you can say I’m trying to continue the general sense of friendliness Lise found when she moved to the mountains of Western NC.
ROASTIN' SWEET POTATOES
GraciousRoots: John Parris lived just down the road from my childhood home and sat behind me with his wife Dorothy in church each Sunday. A lovely couple in every way. Beloved by many for his columns in the Asheville Citizen-Times "Roaming the Mountains". He wrote with the crispness of Hemingway and the grace of Thomas Wolfe. Indeed, he was a war correspondent like Hemingway and a decorated hero for his work with the Belgian underground during World War II.
Posted by The Blind Pig and the Acorn, March 3, 2018
Murphy, North Carolina / written by John Parris
Sitting around a hearth fire of a winter night roasting sweet potatoes in the ashes is one of Aunt Tennie Cloer’s fondest memories.
“Back when I was a girl,” she said, “folks got a heap of pleasure in the simple things. And roastin’ potatoes in the fireplace was one of them. They were all the go back then.”
“Folks would drop in of a night and gather around the fireplace and we’d take sweet potatoes and cover them with ashes and embers and sit around and talk and tell stories while they roasted.”
“When the potatoes were done, we’d rake them out of the fireplace and knock off the ashes and blow on ’em until we could hold ’em without burning our hands. Then we’d have a good time eating ’em.”
“Unless you’ve had sweet potatoes roasted in ashes, you can’t begin to know how good they taste. Especially on a cold night before the fire.”
Aunt Tennie, who is 92 years old, grew up on Sugar Fork River over in Macon County back in the days when the hearth was the center of the home-the source of warmth, sometimes light, and always food.
We’ve been on a sweet potato kick around the Blind Pig house. We’ve been baking ours in the oven instead of roastin' them in the ashes, but they’re still good.
Granny once told me she could barely remember her Grandpa taking her to see an old woman that lived in a log cabin somewhere along Highway 141. She said the lady was old as the hills and she cooked them something to eat right there on the hearth.
The History of Appalachian English: Why We Talk Differently
By AppalachianMagazine -
November 23, 2017
*Note: We LOVE this article we just found from back in November - we think you will too. Put in your 2 cents worth in the comments section below.
“Where are you from?” An annoying question asked in a condescending tone I have been forced to endure nearly my entire life. Whether I travel north into Yankeedom or south into Dixie, it seems that the way I (and everyone I grew up with) talk just seems oddly out of place.
We don’t have a Yankee accent, but we also don’t really speak with a southern drawl. Ours is an accent that is entirely unique and though it’s often the subject of scorn and ridicule, the Appalachian dialect is an ancient connection to our rich heritage and deserves to be safeguarded and honored.
The language we speak is known as Appalachian-English and actually serves as one of the oldest varieties of English spoken in this nation.
But why do we speak it and where did this dialect come from?
Like nearly all things related to Appalachia, there is no one clear answer to this question; however, extensive research has been conducted on this very topic for the better part of a century in order to determine why so many of us pronounce words such as “wire,” “fire,” “tire,” and “retired” as “war,” “far,” “tar,” and “retard” respectively.
Appalachian-English also places an “-er” sound at an end of a word with a long “o”. For example, “hollow”— a small, sheltered valley— is pronounced like “holler”. Other examples are “potato” (pronounced “tader”), “tomato” (pronounced “mader”), and “tobacco” (pronounced “backer”).
H retention occurs at the beginning of certain words as well. “It”, in particular, is pronounced “hit” at the beginning of a sentence and also when emphasized. The word “ain’t” is pronounced “hain’t”.
The noun “grease” is pronounced with an “s,” but this consonant turns into a “z” in the adjective and in the verb “to grease.”
And then, of course, there is the unending and longstanding feud regarding what is the proper way to pronounce the region itself, “Appalachia”. People who live in the Appalachian dialect area pronounce the word with a short “a” sound (as in “latch”) in the third syllable, while those who live outside of the Appalachian dialect area or at its outer edges tend to pronounce it with a long “a” sound (as in “lay”).
Of course on this subject, we all know it’s “App-ah-latch-uh”… or I’ll throw an apple-atch’a!
But why is it that we speak so uniquely?
The predominant theory is that the existence of Appalachian-English is the result of the isolation the mountains beyond the Blue Ridge ensured — making our dialect one of the most ancient and protected dialects in the nation.
While our high-browed relatives who moved to the big city and lost their accent may frown upon our words and pronunciations, it is believed that the Appalachian dialect is a remnant of Elizabethan English.
An evidence of this is the use of words such as “afeared”, a Shakespearean word that is largely forgotten by most English speakers outside of the Appalachian region.
Other ancient phrases include the use of “might could” for “might be able to”, the use of “‘un” with pronouns and adjectives (e.g., young’un), the use of “done” as a helping verb (e.g., “we done finished it”), and the use of words such as airish, brickle, swan, and bottom land all of which were common in Southern and Central England in 17th and 18th centuries.
Interestingly, Appalachian-English has virtually no Native American influences (with the exception being place names, e.g., “Appalachia”, “Tennessee”, “Kanawha”, etc.) while so many other regional dialects in the nation do contain heavy influences from Native Americans. This is noteworthy, as it showcases something we know and realize today — the people who settled this region are not easily influenced by the accents and languages of others, even if they become displaced, Appalachian-English is a hard dialect to lose.
Further evidence of this reality may be found in several areas in the State of Texas.
Nearly two centuries ago, the sons of Virginia’s Appalachian region (Stephen F. Austin & Sam Houston), as well as men of Tennessee (Davy Crocket) and Kentucky (James Bowie) made the decision to leave the mountains and head into the land of Tejas — eventually forming a new Republic, built by the blood and sweat of Appalachia’s sons.
Despite being some 1,200 miles apart, Appalachian-English is still alive and well in multiple Texas localities. There, in the Lonestar State, you’ll hear phrases such as “Like’t’a”, proving that you may take the man out of Appalachia, but you won’t be able to take the Appalachia out of the man.
Like articles like this? Then you would love Appalachian Magazine’s Mountain Voice: 2017: A Collection of Memories, Histories, and Tall Tales of Appalachia! Click here to check out the book on Amazon!
JANUARY 17, 2018
We all know adventure is the spice of life but the reality is most of us are too busy working a 9-5 to be able to sprinkling in too much adventure. Having any job, let alone a full time job, can make it difficult to find the time to add adventure into your life. So when you work 40+ hours a week, we really have to rethink what adventure really means.
Adventure doesn’t mean selling all of your things, converting to van-life and traveling to far off places. Although let’s be honest, that would be amazing! It just means adding things into your life that fulfill you. Things that get you moving while inspiring you. Many times these “micro-adventures” don’t have to be far away but can be in your own backyard wherever you life.
Here are some ways that you can work full time and still take advantage of whatever free time you may have to get out there and explore.
Let’s start with weekends. Give us two days off in a row and the world is ours!
A WEEKEND CAMPING TRIP
One of my favorite things to do is to head out after work on Friday evenings and drive to the nearest state park for a weekend camping trip. If camping isn’t your thing, then drive up on Saturday and spend it hiking or in a hammock. Crack open some marshmallows and make smores. You don’t have to go far but these simple resets help me when I’m back at work on Monday through Friday.
TRAVEL WHEN YOU CAN. HOW YOU CAN.
Maybe it’s a trip overseas. Maybe it’s a day trip to the mountains. But plan to go with an emphasis on plan. If you don’t plan for it, you’ll never save the money and you’ll never schedule the time. It’s not easy and may stretch your finances, even if you just go for a day trip. But nothing helps us reset more than travel. So go to a place you have never been. If there is a town close by that you have been wanting to visit or a park you have really been wanting to go to, wake up early, fill the car with gas and get going!
GO FOR A HIKE
I love starting my Saturday or Sunday out by going to a local trail and hiking. This is a great option for those on a budget. Pack a lunch, bring some water and head out. Throw up a hammock and read a book while the wind blows in the trees above you.
VISIT A LOCAL BREWERY
One of my favorite things to do is visit the local breweries. Go on a brewery tour with some friends. Beer is always delicious and supporting local businesses is an added bonus. Get a group of people together and spend the day trying different beers, you may even find your new favorite!
LEARN A NEW SKILL
Take a class at a local studio or business. It only takes an hour a week to learn a new skill and cultivate your passions.
GO TO LOCAL EVENTS
There are always events happening on weekends. Go to the farmer’s market, a festival, a concert, an art showing, trivia night, etc. Check your communities website, Facebook or local papers.
JUST TRY IT
Go see a new exhibit at your local museum. Try a new restaurant. Go see that movie that you’ve been wanting to see! Buy that book you have had your eye on. Whatever you do, just do it. What’s the worst that could happen?
Now Let’s Talk Week Days
Weekends are easy. Well, easy-ish. But it can be a bit harder on weekdays to scratch that adventure itch especially if you have to go anywhere near Atlanta traffic which can add a couple hours to your workday just by commuting. It’s hard enough to wake up before the sun rises and to be at work all day, so how do we squeeze adventure into week days when 8-12 hours are at our desk or in the car? There are several ways to do this and none of them will work for everyone. We just have to choose what fits our interests and time the best and then when we find what works, we have to make intentional decisions that help us maximize those decisions.
Go for a morning hike/run/walk at your favorite local trail (yes this involves waking up earlier . . . I know).
Watch the sunrise while sipping on your favorite coffee. This is a win/win as you get your morning caffeine and the magic from re-centering your perspective as you watch the world wake up around you.
Take the back roads to work. If you’re in the city, this may create more stress depending on what side roads you’re on. But sometimes the simplest thing of changing your surroundings is a great way to switch up your daily routine.
Eat your lunch outside and enjoy the day!
Take a walk during your lunch break. This is a great way to get outdoors, let go of whatever stresses that have already accumulated in the morning and get refreshed before the back half of the day.
Take an evening hike. Find a trail nearby and enjoy the sunset.
Go to your local gym for a class or activity. Try rock climbing, yoga, pilates, kickboxing or running.
Get involved with a local group or club. There are tons of groups to be a part of – trail running, mountain biking, book club, ultimate Frisbee, knitting, etcetera.
These are just a few ways that we can begin to add more adventure into your busy work week.
I used to believe that “adventure” meant that I had to live in a place that was overwhelmed beauty like the desert in Utah or the mountains in Colorado. I thought I had to have the best photos and gear to get the most out of my “adventure”. I thought I couldn’t do it because of my job and the very real physical and emotional constraints that put on my days. However, once I realized what adventure meant to me, it changed everything. I was able to reframe it from “somewhere over there” to “somewhere right here”. My mini adventure may not as pretty as a mountain waterfall but my adventure is now what I make it. It is about getting outside, trying new things and doing what I love. It’s carving out the time to do things that make my soul feel full. And that is the best kind of adventure of all.
Blind Pig and The Acorn
Celebrating and preserving Appalachia
January 30, 2018
This has been the coldest winter we’ve had in several years which you all know I love. The part I don’t love is the mud that comes along with the cold. When the temperature stays right at or below freezing for several consecutive days the moisture in the soil freezes. The dirt expands as it freezes. As the temperature begins to rise the ‘expanded’ dirt turns into the muddiest soupiest mess you ever saw.
It’s been quite a few years since our driveway has been in the shape it is now. Mind you it’s never that great, but it’s really bad now. The girls and I have been parking at Granny’s and walking for the last week. They can’t believe how bad it is. Their last ride off had them both saying they weren’t going back up in their car till Spring. I told them they’d just forgotten how bad the mud could be. I remember more than one early morning ride down it when they were in high school with both of them screaming I was going to kill them. Apparently, they’ve forgotten those episodes of hysteria.
The UPS driver made a delivery to Granny’s right when we were getting ready to head up to our house the other day. He said he’d just come from our place. Chitter said, “You didn’t try to get up it did you?” He said, “Naa I parked at the bottom.” Chitter told him she was sorry about the mess. He said, “Don’t worry about it every road in the county is like this.”
If it wasn’t for my new car I’d still make it up and down every day. Muddy driveways are something I’ve grown accustomed to over the years. Pap and Granny’s could get muddy especially in the days when Pap drove an oil truck home every day. My uncle’s driveway is paved now, but in days gone by it got to be as bad as ours is every year and it’s longer. Papaw Wade lived with my uncle in those days.
Pap used to have a 1973 white Impala. One day we were going up to see Papaw Wade. He hit the driveway with everything that car had. We made it about halfway up and did a complete 360 in the middle of the road. Before I knew what happened we were turned around headed back down the hill. I about cried but Pap just laughed. I can’t remember if we made it up that day on another try or settled for walking the trail through the woods.
The road we live on was gravel until the girls were about five or six years old. When I was a teenager the gravel road would get bad in certain places. I remember one year it was especially messy just above Clate and Mary’s. I had a little black Ford Exp. I worked at Catos so I had to dress up nice for work. One day I was coming home and got stuck in the mud. I tried to spin myself out a few times but soon gave up. I didn’t have any other shoes to put on so I finally took off my heels and hose and walked the half a mile home in my dress. Granny got a big kick out that she laughed and laughed at me. I said, “Well what else was I supposed to do wait for someone to come find me?”
If you look close in the photo you can see Chitter is barefooted. I’m not sure how she got down the hill without her boots, but she didn’t have any to wear back up. Granny tried to get her to put on a pair of her old shoes but Chitter wouldn’t have it. Said she wanted to feel that gushy mud between her toes.
Blind Pig and the Acorn
New Years has its traditions and customs just like all the other holidays. A few of the most well known being the traditional kiss at midnight, the big ball drop (in my neck of the woods it's the Possum) and the hard to achieve New Years Resolutions folks make.
Churches often ring in the New Year by praying for the coming year to be all it should be-it's called a Watch Service. I come from a fierce fire and brimstone upbringing-growing up I always thought the Watch Services were to make sure the redeemed were gathered together just in case the New Year didn't come after all.
This year I've been introduced to 2 new traditions-ones I've never heard of before.
The first came by way of Gary Carden-of Blow The Tannery Whistle fame. It's an old Appalachian tradition called the First Footer. If the first person to set foot in your house after the New Year is a tall dark haired man-you're sure to have good luck for the coming year.
The second came from Noble Pig. When midnight arrives on New Years Eve-you quickly eat a dozen grapes. Each sweet grape represents a good month in the coming year-each sour grape signals a not so good month.
A New Years day tradition in the south is to eat black-eyed peas, ham hocks, and cabbage to ensure the coming year be a wealthy one. Our family has never taken part in this custom-but the other day Granny allowed we should start-cause she had figured out this is probably why we've always been poor.
To be honest, most of the time when the clock strikes midnight-I've already been asleep for several hours. A night owl I am not. But this year I will be awake-by force of Chitter and Chatter. This year when the New Year rings in I'll be...
Contra Dancing. I hope the coming year is a happy one for you-and please leave me a comment and let me know what you do to ring in the New Year.
It began with bad timing. I wasn’t looking for a dinner revolution any more than Lucy was looking for Narnia when she hid in that wardrobe. But Lucy and I, we both accidentally discovered magic.
This was a brinner night, a favorite in our house.
The bigs had just gotten into the swing of public school and I was trying to be more intentional with our time together in the evenings, especially dinner. I was failing: we were running late and only the biscuits were done. I normally plated everything myself, but I wasn’t about to let biscuits get cold on a plate because that is just a hateful thing to do. I took out my hand-me-down, much-loved sunflower Fiesta serving bowl, wrapped those babies up, and let them hang out on the dining room table while everything else cooked. I saw its matching platter and pitcher and thought to myself, why not? The bowl was already on the table. We usually only served dinner family style on holidays, but on a whim, I pulled a couple more plates and platters down. It seemed funny to me, to bring out “special” dinnerware for eggs, biscuits, turkey bacon and orange juice, but I’m not opposed to funny.
My nine-year-old and four-year-old ran into the kitchen, saw everything, and asked to help. I let them set the table with plates and flatware, and handed off warm platters as each was ready. They were so excited, and I was amused, but I still had no clue that we were actually on to something.
The 14-year-old lumbered out of his room and raised a brow at the set table with food all in the middle. “What’s all this? What’s in there?” I shrugged. “Just brinner stuff. I thought we’d try it like this.”
Try it we did, and every single night since, save for the occasional weekend meal, this is how we eat. Why did an accident become a habit? Well, let me tell you…
Time slowed down.
I’m going to address two issues we had every night at dinner, both concerning time. First issue: no matter how hard I tried, I was never at the table with everyone else. Whether someone’s plate needed adjusting, we forgot condiments, drinks, whatever, I was always running around to get it. Since I made the plates, if I left something off, I felt like I needed to grab or correct it. I would insist they go ahead and eat, because the food was ready, they’re kids, they’re hungry. This lead to me eating warm-ish food while the rest of my family sat, completely or at least mostly finished with their food, ready to bolt, and waiting on me. Not exactly an environment that fostered lively conversations as my kids’ knees were literally bouncing at the chance to be dismissed. Second issue: the teenager. He inhales food, so take everything I said above and make it double time. It was hard to even pin him down for our usual “high/low” before he was ready to be excused. He was respectful, but checked out.
I have no idea what magic happened with the meal that first night, but it never wore off. I got to sit down with everyone. Everything slowed down. We were eating at the same time temperature. No one was inhaling a pre-plated meal. No knees were bouncing.
Conversation warmed up.
I didn’t realize it until we began doing dinner this way, but we honestly weren’t at the table long enough to even get going, socially. Isn’t that the idea of family dinners? It’s not just a box to check off because it’s “good for them.” No, it’s good for them because it connects us. My family is Italian, so I know that meals should be just as much about the company as the food, but they were getting lost in the mix of our hectic evenings. That slow minute after prayer, when no food had met a plate yet, when things had to be asked for and passed around, turned out to be the perfect amount of time to get the kids talking. We were hearing stories we had never heard before. We were laughing. High/low took a back seat, because we were hearing about those best and worst parts of their day organically, and in detail. This all sounds so obvious as I write the words out, but man, we were missing it.
They tried stuff.
FINE, I had read this somewhere before and totally forgotten it, but it turns out kids are more likely to try something new when presented this way: available, but not mandatory. It worked!! The four-year-old still hates everything, but hey, he’s trying it and THEN hating it! We take victories anywhere we can find them. #blessed
The siblings were kind. Like, really.
I KNOW. It was insane. But seeing my 14-year-old help our four-year-old with plates too heavy to lift, or watching them pass on the last serving of something when just a week before it would have been a race back into the kitchen for more, made me a believer. We have almost five years between each kid, so finding their common ground can be, well, uncommon. But hello, food. They’re all so here for food.
My kitchen is not a restaurant kitchen, all hidden aside from some little rectangular hole from which to slide plates. It is not a mystery, and yet something about me plating meals seemed to make my family believe the food appeared on its own, and therefore would — yep! — disappear on its own. Don’t get me wrong; they are good, considerate kiddos. Their manners…I mean, they’ve been taught manners. Mama tried. But dinner was very often left behind. For the mysterious food fairies. They had to be reminded on the regular until the family style meals began. I don’t know if they felt some sense of ownership for everything on the table, or maybe more sense of community, but they were clearing their things (and each others’) without being asked. I don’t question gifts from God, y’all, I just go with it.
So there you have it: my trip to Narnia. Being truthful, I hesitated to write this, because I figure you all are probably already light years ahead of me, shaking your heads. But on the off chance there’s a few of you out there like me, I leave you with a few handy tips:
- Put every possible thing on the table. It’s better to clean it up after than need it, not have it, and be up and down. Again.
- From friend and contributor Erika: In case you DO need something that isn’t on the table, assign a runner! She says her kids love taking turns being the helper, and I am absolutely stealing this one.
- Don’t sweat how it looks — really. My matching stuff may have been the inspiration, but our table is uh…eclectic most nights. Don’t sweat it, they don’t care. Because they love you and they love being with you, and because food.
- Don’t be intimidated by the idea of a few more dishes — it’s really minimal and very easy cleaning.
- Small people can help, so let ’em! They can pass out the silverware or napkins or serving utensils. They’ll be happy and you’ll have one or two fewer things to fuss with in the meantime.
- Enjoy that family and that warm meal and that dish carried to the sink, Mama. You deserve it.
Rocky Top, Tennessee
That’s right, Rocky Top, Tennessee, it isn’t just a song, it really does exist; well it does now anyway. Formally Lake City, and before that Coal Creek, it is town with many names and amazing history.
However, no matter what you call us, we are a town in need of help. A town that the interstate bypassed and time has forgotten.
In today’s ramblings, I’ll talk about our town, what happened, and at the end give you 15 or more ways you can help. It will be long, but PLEASE stay with me, or at least scroll to the end. 😉
Our small town: Rocky Top, Tennessee
We are a small town, a proud Appalachian people that wouldn’t normally ask for help, but now, now we need help, and we need it from our citizens and neighbors.
We are a town with a strong history of battles fought and won by a sense of community pride and a strong bond. Our history included horrific mining disasters, battles for work, struggling during the Great Depression, and so much more, but our community was strong and pulled through together. A TVA project building Norris Dam, not only brought electricity to the entire area, but brought JOBS in a time when so many were suffering, it brought light in so many ways, and again, our town prevailed. As the building of the dam ended, the Manhattan Project came along, bringing in more jobs and an even bigger sense of pride and community. This was a turning point for many years. Plenty of work, more industry, booming small town businesses. This was the way of life for the next 40 years.
Our ancestors were a proud people; dirt poor most of them, but proud and hard working. They worked their way out of poverty and they raised my parent’s generation. People who knew how to plant a garden, can the food, and were engineers and electricians at the same time. This was our past, it is something to be proud of, something to look back on and smile. The grandparents of my generation brought this town out of poverty and into something to be proud of. The parents of my generation worked to maintain that, UNTIL:
First, the interstate took the traffic away. At one time Main Street, aka Highway 25W, wound its way through our little town. People traveling from north of Kentucky all the way to Georgia and back would travel that road. They would stop in, eat at our restaurants, visit our stores, stay in our hotels. It was a pretty booming little place. Being one of the few towns between Kentucky and Knoxville, there was much to offer. Norris Dam State Park became a major attraction in the summer, those were GREAT days… but then…
THE INTERSTATE!! Gone was the traffic, the extra business, the tourists… We became Radiator Springs, from the movie “Cars”, and slowly, we watched our town begin to die.
This didn’t happen 100 years ago, not even 50. No, this was the late 70’s, early 80’s, when my generation was just a bunch of kids. We don’t remember much about a booming town, but we do remember when it was different, busier, more community driven. We also remember it dying, by the time we were teens, it was almost gone. So….
That simple, we simply left. We were young, we vaguely remember shopping in town at the local stores, so many were gone by then. The booming town our parents grew up in as teens, we never witnessed. Before us, there was a theater, stores, drive in, and other amazing things to do. We grew up with stores shutting down or already gone. We grew up going to Knoxville, we had the interstate after all, East Town Mall was a happening place back then. Sure we cruised town, McDonald’s to the Car Wash and back again, but that was because we were young and socializing.
Then it happened, we grew up and limited by lack of opportunities, confined by the smallness and emptiness of our town, WE LEFT! Bigger, better, faster, growing, jobs, college, whatever the reason, WE LEFT!! But now….
Our dreams carried us elsewhere, but in our minds, we knew where home was, where our parents were, and where we wanted our children raised. We remembered the friendships, the closeness, the caring hearts of our neighbors, teachers, pastors, and friends, the honesty and hardworking generation of our parents. We forgot the dead, lifeless streets and closed storefronts, we just wanted “small town” for our children. So…WE RETURNED!!
But to what? Still empty buildings? More dilapidated than ever before? Chain stores moving in just a few miles up the road, and our few stores that had been hanging on all those years, shutting down! Depression had taken over the town, and with it drugs, poverty, and a deep sense of loss and loneliness prevailed. BUT…
All is not lost:
Our parents were still here, living just on the outskirts of town, happily retired, houses paid for, large well groomed yards for the grands to play in. Our school was bigger and better than ever, some of our favorite teachers still teaching, and many of our friends returning to rear their own here. Hope was here, our kids would get teachers who knew their families, knew their stories, and didn’t judge them regardless of that story. We all returned, or stayed, longing for what we knew had been lost, hoping all was not lost. We sense that there is still something here, something that pulls us back, something that can be fixed, but we don’t know what to do. SO….
Here we are:
Here we are, a few of us, maybe more, still hoping, wanting our town back, wanting that picturesque Mayberry we know existed at some point.
What are we doing? Well, being scoffed at by some, saying this town is lost, dead, nothing but a drug haven. We are laughed at by others, because we embraced the name change when it came. Did we love the new name? No, not really; we are LAKERS, through and through after all. Yet, we hold out hope, that just maybe, a new name will revive our old town.
We want it. We need it. Our children need it.
Basically, we are doing nothing, waiting on someone else to do it. All of us waiting, hoping, but not ACTING!!
Do we not want something better? Do we not want to see a clean, upbeat town for our children? What are we scared of?
Are we afraid of being laughed at? Scoffed at? Told NO? Are we afraid of the town becoming too big and too busy? Or are we just part of the problem? Has the depression gotten to us? Infected us? Making us feel beat down, overwhelmed and hopeless? Where is our hope? Where is our pride? Where is the pride of our ancestors? They lived in much tougher times, with so much less than we have now yet they prevailed and built a great town. Are we just too busy to care or are we just too scared?
Rocky Top will always be a small town, and that’s not a bad thing. But what’s wrong with bringing back local businesses, local attractions, maybe something that will pull in tourists again. It’s still a LONG drive up I-75 from Knoxville to Lexington, or vice versa; why not make ours the town the weary travelers want to rest in?
However, progress is slow, and too many of us, myself included, have been sitting around waiting on someone else to do something. To PROVE to us, that the town is going to be revived. That it can be pulled from the ashes. Scared to put our time, effort or money into it before we know it is a guaranteed success.
So now what?
Well, we give back. We quit waiting for someone else to do it. We quit nay-saying and waiting on some rich stranger to revive our town. No strangers are going to come in and make this town what it use to be. No strangers have the connections we have, no strangers have a vested interest in our town.
It’s our turn. Our parents, the ones still living, they are retired, they paid their dues and they did what they could. No, we pick up the reigns.
You don’t have to be rich, powerful, or “from the right family” to make a difference. You have to be dedicated, loving, and willing to work a little bit. Nothing big, a few hours here, a few hours there, $5 here, $5 there. ANYTHING is better than NOTHING and EVERYTHING makes a difference.
Look at it this way, if 100 people, volunteered a measly 3 hours per month in clean up and community outreach, that would be 300 hours of work completed every month. 3,600 hours per year. THAT’S HUGE!!
If 100 people, gave $10 each, every month that is $1,000 every month, $12,000 per year!!! No it isn’t much, but it could go a long way toward painting something, making a picnic area, landscaping, taking care of seniors, etc.
So in an effort to make it easy for you to help, I’ve gathered a list. Below you will find a list of things our town needs and ways you can help. Most require very little or NO money. What they do require is a little time and dedication to ROCKY TOP, TN.
How can YOU help? How can YOU give back?
The first thing you do is JOIN the Facebook Group “ROCKY TALK: Rocky Top Community Chat Page” to keep up with ALL the events going on in town and to make suggestions about things the town could use. City councilmen, county commissioners, etc are all there and interacting with the citizens.
- DECORATE FOR CHRISTMAS: Contact Joe Paris by EMAIL: Here is a list of things he needs:
- New or used but decent Christmas decorations. As you clean out your stash please contact him or drop them off at the Rocky Top Police Department.
- Workers to help put up the decorations on Saturday mornings. Contact Joe for times and dates.
- Main Street Baptist Church Community Projects: Call the church at 865-426-2184 for more information.
- Clean up Main Street: Happens regularly, they need help picking up trash and cleaning the streets through town.
- A food pantry: You can drop off food for them to give to the less fortunate in the community.
- A craft fair: Rocky Top Crafters is having a Christmas craft sale at MSBC on December 3rd! We are gonna be collecting foodstuff for there pantry at the door & the choir is having a bake sale to raise money for their trip next year! You can help by showing up and supporting local business, the food pantry, and the church.
- Candy & Cards for Veterans is being collected: Contact Lisa Hunley-Pebley on the Rocky Talkpage for more information.
- Drop off donations of candy and cards at Corner Drug in Rocky Top.
- Christ-Centered Addiction Recovery Meet Ups: These are hosted by different places throughout the town. Angie Gilliam is the contact person. Tonight: November 18th it will be held at Pine Hill Baptist Church in Beech Grove. How you can help:
- Pastors, counselors, teachers, families, and friends are all encouraged to attend and learn more about addiction and beating addiction.
- Contact Angie and see if she could use snacks or refreshments for the meetings then donate them.
- Make flyers with meeting times and post them around town so that addicts can find help.
- Coal Creek Miner’s Museum: Contact them by following the link or by phone at 865-340-3269:
This amazing museum tells the story of our proud past and reflects the struggles it took to get this town started. They could use support in the following ways:
- Donations of old mining items.
- Volunteer workers to keep the museum open and running and to extend the museum hours. I encourage you to visit if you haven’t already been.
- Rocky Top Community Center, Ball-field & Splash Pad: Contact the community center at 865-426-7914: Ideas for helping there:
- Painting or donating paint to spiff up the community center.
- Donations of folding tables and chairs for when the building is rented.
- Cleaning up around the ball-field.
- Donations of picnic tables, benches, etc for the splash pad.
- Wilson Cemetery and other cemetery clean-ups: Here is a LINK to an upcoming CLEAN UP at Wilson Cemetery!! Or contact Robert Griffith Feel free to coordinate your own and let me know about them.
- Build or donate bat boxes: Bats keep down mosquitoes, flies and other pests: Anyone willing to build or donate bat boxes please contact Robert Griffith.
- LOCAL FARMERS / CRAFTERS MARKET: A regular weekly market could draw tons of vendors and shoppers from all over the greater Rocky Top area. We need a coordinator for this project. If interested in leading this or forming a committee to work on making this happen before spring. Please contact Robert Griffith.
- HELP OUR NEIGHBORS: We have many disabled and elderly in our community. We would love to see a “Helping Hands” team of volunteers who could do things like mow grass, rake leaves, build ramps, pain houses, sweep driveways, grocery shop, etc. We need a volunteer or set of volunteers to coordinate this effort and gather names and needs.
- Contact other businesses and invite them to Rocky Top! ANYONE and EVERYONE can and SHOULD do this. When you are in an establishment or business you really like and that you think could make an impact on Rocky Top and surrounding areas, invite them to come look at all the vacancies in our town.
- SHOP LOCAL: NO EXCUSES: There are many GREAT businesses in our town that need our support. I realize you can’t do ALL of your shopping in town, but every single bit helps. The more we shop locally, the lower the local prices will become. Local stores can’t compete with big box stores, but the more we demand from them, the more they will have to buy and the lower the price to them will be.
Here are some of the shops I LOVE. Not only is the service superb but the small town atmosphere is comforting.
- Corner Drug: Why wait at the big stores when David and family are more than happy to help. If they don’t have it that day they can get it by the next day. They know you by name and you never have to wait more than a few minutes. Prices are the same because insurance pays. #SHOP LOCAL
- Shop-Rite Grocery: Have you been there lately? The store is AWESOME! They have really cleaned it up and they now stock an awesome selection of produce. Joe, the butcher is well informed and will help you find the right meats. The store will order things you can’t find. If you shop the weekly ads you will beat the big chain store prices.
- Ace Hardware: We often find things here to be much cheaper than your big box home improvement stores. The service is fast and friendly.
- Restaurants: I won’t even try to list them, we have some of the best around.
- Rocky Top Outdoors: Why bother going all the way to Knoxville. If they don’t have it here, they’ll get it for you.
- Huck Braden, Tim Wilson, Lake City Tire: ALL your car care needs are right here in town, they are HONEST, FAIR and their prices SURE as heck beat everyone else
- There are so many more, Thrift Shops, Furniture Stores, etc.. I can’t list them all. I will eventually do a local business post, but for now.
- SHOP LOCAL FIRST! Every DOLLAR you give a local store is a DOLLAR back into our town.
- Rocky Top Public Library: I have no idea what help they need, but I am sure book donations and people to read to the kids are ALWAYS needed. Call them at 865-426-6762
- Town Beautification Committee: We need someone to head up projects making our town beautiful again. This committee could meet with City Council to coordinate efforts. Ideas for this committee:
- Gather donations of plants, trees, and shrubs to donate to businesses and churches in town for their landscaping.
- Cleaning up and beautifying vacant lots and abandoned buildings and houses.
- Set up a regular Arbor Day tradition and get the local school kids involved.
- Sweep and shovel parking lots and yards.
- SO MUCH TO BE DONE!!
- Senior Citizens Awareness Network: We need someone to head this up and get things happening. Responsibilities of this group would be :
- Checking on the elderly in our community to make sure they have food, water, heat, etc
- Getting donations for those in need.
- Helping seniors get in touch with the right agencies to meet their needs
- Delivering groceries or taking them shopping
- Visiting the nursing homes and homes to just be a friendly presence
- Organizing senior activities such as games or socials at the community center
- Jim Ed Lawson/J W Prewitt Memorial Christmas Basket Fund: CLICK HERE
Yes I know I said 15, but this one came in last minute and REALLY needs our help. Here is a little about the Fund, taken from the page listed above.
” Our Hometown Christmas Story: It all began in the late 1940’s. Jim Ed Lawson and several other men saw a need in the town. They began what is today called the “Jim Ed Lawson/J W Prewitt Memorial Christmas Basket Fund”. The ONLY FUNDING was and still is a caring community of people.
Throughout the year, various community services are held and donations are collected for the Christmas Basket Fund. It takes the whole town working together to make this project a success year after year.
About 325 families are helped in and around Rocky Top each year. J W (Bill) Pruitt, having worked with the program for more than 50 years, was the chairman of the Christmas Basket Fund Committee until 2013. His son, Marvin Prewitt is the current chairman. Note: In the beginning, bushel baskets were used and the baskets were all delivered.
Sign-ups begin in mid-October-November. Each eligible family receives a letter which they bring with them to pick up a food basket.
In the early stages, there were no extra funds for children’s toys or presents. The Lions Club stepped in to help with Toys for Tots, taking used toys and new ones, putting them together to make a child’s Christmas a little brighter.
In 1995, we began the “Angel Tree”. Names and needs of area children are collected and given to Suntrust Bank and other sponsors. Their employees record the names taken and also check the names as the gifts are returned to make sure every child is accounted for. Also, Lake City schools help with getting presents for children from companies, businesses, etc.
A FEW DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, THE REAL WORK BEGINS!
The Masonic Lodge in Rocky Top donates the use of the building and the boxes and food are brought in. The committee and all the volunteers meet there, assembling the boxes and filling them with flour, sugar, potatoes, canned food, canned ham, fruit and more.
The Angel Tree gifts are picked up from the banks and schools and taken to the community center, where they are sorted and prepared for pick up. The Lake City Men’s Club (formerly Lake City Lions Club) donates money for toys to go along with the gifts for all the children.
On Christmas Eve (9:00 am – 11:00 am), food baskets are handed out at the Masonic Lodge, while presents and toys are handed out at the Community Center.
We see many happy faces. Faces we know would not have had Christmas, if not for all the good people who come together to make this happen. Many have cried because they were so grateful. Having lost a job or facing a circumstance beyond their control, left them without. At the end of the day, we know we have made a difference in the life of a family, which is what Christmas is all about.”
THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU!!!
If you have other ideas or projects that need help, please feel free to email me and I’ll add them to the next #SimplyLocal post.
Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem was written by Phillips Brooks, the pastor who spoke at Abraham Lincoln's funeral service. Before becoming a pastor, Brooks taught at Boston's Latin School. Brooks was discouraged by his students lack of interest and left his position to attend the Episcopal Theological Seminary. After Brooks graduated in 1859 he was asked to pastor the Holy Trinity Church in Philadelphia.
Brooks was very successful. He was widely known as a powerful and persuasive speaker. Under his guidance the church grew and prospered. But as the Civil War began to take a tole on the entire country, members of the church began to fall away and Brooks found it harder and harder to offer them the peace they so desperately needed.
When the war finally ended, Brooks thought the healing of his church and the country might began, however the unexpected death of Lincoln shattered his dreams.
After speaking at Lincoln's funeral Brooks took a sabbatical to the Holy Land in an effort to reconnect with his God and to allow his mind and body to rest. He visited during the Christmas season and was able to ride a horse along the route Joseph and Mary took from Jerusalem to Bethlehem.
As he rode alone in the darkness with the stars shining above him he was moved in an overpowering manner. He felt like he was able to experience a small taste of the magic and wonder that must have been alive on that very first Christmas.
Once Brooks returned from his trip abroad he had a renewed strength to pastor his church. He wanted to share his Christmas in Bethlehem experience with his congregation and the world at large but he always seemed to fall short when he tried to convey the feelings of awe and wonder he experienced.
A few years later, as the Christmas season quickly approached, Brooks tried once more to put his experience into the most meaningful words. Proceeding differently than he had in the past, he simply wrote down what came to mind and as he did Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem was born.
He shared his newly written poem with his friend, Lewis Redner.
Redner was moved by the poem and finally understood the breadth of what his friend had experienced while visiting the Holy Land.
Redner tried in vain to compose a line of music that would fit the words Brooks had penned. On December 24 Redner accepted defeat and went to bed. But all was not lost, the perfect tune came to him in his sleep. The tune fit the poem perfectly.
The song become an instant hit in the Philadelphia area and by the time Brooks died in 1893 Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem had become a favorite Christmas Carol across the country and beyond.
A quote from the book Stories Behind the Best-Loved Songs of Christmas gives us an interesting view of both Brooks and the song:
"In a sermon Brooks once said, "It is while you are patiently toiling at the little tasks of life that the meaning and shape of the great whole of life dawns on you." On a horse, in a tiny village, a half a world away form his home and family, the meaning of Phillips Brooks's life and the purpose behind his work were brought into sharp focus."
I like the quote from Brooks. I firmly believe the little bits of every day life are what make life so precious. Click on the link below to hear Pap and Paul's version of the song (you may need to click your back button to come back to this page).
Oh Little Town Of Bethlehem is my all time favorite Christmas Song and I love Pap and Paul's version of it. The song is on Pap and Paul's cd Songs of Christmas.
You can go here Pap and Paul's Songs of Christmas to purchase a cd of your own.
*Source: Collins, Ace. Stories behind the best-loved songs of Christmas. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 2001. Print.