Forever A Hillbilly: The Sixty Year Promise Best Family story contest

Forever A Hillbilly: The Sixty Year Promise Best Family story contest: The deadline  is approaching! the Best family story contest ends Sept. 1.  The leader, based on the most reads in three days, along with t...

The Sixty Year Promise Best Family story contest

The deadline  is approaching! the Best family story contest ends Sept. 1.  The leader, based on the most reads in three days, along with the honerable mention stories are listed below. If you still wish to enter, I must recieve it at least three days before the deadline.

The leader - The Dog Days of Summer by Linda hatcher, 334 reads.  Honorable mention - Polio, by Jonnie Willis - 236;  My Story, by Cindy Buford - 184;  A Love Story, by Jackie Leffingwell, 149; Artie Mae and Dorothy Bell, 143. All of these stories were wonderful! You guys are so good!

     

Forever A Hillbilly: Multiple Troubles

Forever A Hillbilly: Multiple Troubles:      We drove through Maryland. The leaves were not quite at their peak yet, but we saw it a couple of years later, backtracking I must ...

Multiple Troubles

     We drove through Maryland. The leaves were not quite at their peak yet, but we saw it a couple of years later, backtracking I must admit, which we try to avoid. The second time around, Maryland was as glorious as New England was now. Moving into West Virginia, it was a hard trip. Even on this great interstate now through these mountains. Its hard to imagine the hardships of the pioneers, traveling here. We camped at Broken Wheel Campground, and the name seemed appropriate. West Virginia is a poor state, very rich in natural beauty – and coal.

     The old grist mill on a rushing brook at Babcock State Park, which of course we pictured, is a great photo attraction. We have seen photos of it, all over the country. The New River Gorge is actually very old, and the world's longest single arch steel bridge spans it, 867 feet above the river below. The coal seam is about three quarters of the way to the top, and it's easy to mine. Just drop the coal to the valley below, haul it off. Many sky divers gather at the New River Gorge bridge one day each year, to risk killing themselves. I just don't have that urge.

     This was a backward, isolated area for so long, before this high tech corridor we came down. Travel was hard for these friendly people, who speak so much like the Arkansas hill people of my youth. The slang is so similar, it is amazing. I know they never visited back and forth much, over these mountains. The New River is also a top white water river.

 Kentucky Troubles

      The RV would not start after a stop at Hawk‘s Nest, the first of a string of automobile troubles. It had to be towed 40 miles to have a new ignition switch put in. Thanks for the tow, Good Sam!

     Arriving at Beaver Dam, Kentucky, we were having battery problems. We spent the night. A large party seemed to be scheduled for tonight, so we went downtown. We were walking down the street, surrounded by hundreds of people. The music started to kick in. Every single person there, and I mean every one, stopped and started tapping a foot. Everybody except us. Now if that's not a bit weird. Then, the music really kicked in, and again, every single person, except us, just literally danced onto the street! Not together, really, just dancing. We looked around for the movie cameras. Surely we were on a movie set.  

     When we got back to the RV park, a track with small race cars roared to life. Naturally, we had to go look. These were kids driving these cars. But they were very loud and very fast! I knew these kids didn't even have a driver's license yet.

     On down the road a ways the next day, what we thought was battery problems turned bad. Alternator problems. It was Saturday, and new one was hard to find, but we did, and I was determined to do it myself. We pulled into a truck stop, and I got my tools out. I discovered a guy in the truck stop that used to be a mechanic, but now he was just working there at odd jobs. He started supervising me, and kept coming out at intervals to keep me on the right track, for a good part of the afternoon. He would not take pay, but we left some for him anyway, when we pulled out the next day. We have stayed in touch with him over the years. A good man.

Forever A Hillbilly: The Tall Ship Cory

Forever A Hillbilly: The Tall Ship Cory:      At St. Andrews, close to the Maine border, we booked a whale watching trip on the tall sailing ship Cory. We only saw two whales. Jus...

The Tall Ship Cory

     At St. Andrews, close to the Maine border, we booked a whale watching trip on the tall sailing ship Cory. We only saw two whales. Just as it happened, son Corey was in Seattle at the time, to speak at a Photographer's Convention, and looked out to sea and saw a whale. Now, how would I say this: We saw a whale on the east coast from the Cory, while Corey saw a whale on the west coast. Did you follow me on that?

     As it turned out, the crew of the Cory was as interesting as the whales. The deck hand was a tall, slim woman. Barefooted, she climbed like a cat to the top of the mast and handled those sails and ropes like the professional she is. She climbed all the way to the top, carrying our camera, just to take our picture. Her face was very weather beaten, the effects of hundreds of voyages. She is an illustrator in the winter, and in summer, she makes three trips a day, seven days a week, May-September. The Captain built the ship himself in New Zealand, and sailed it around the world in six years. But those two don't even come close to being the most interesting of the crew. “Bear” Ledger is an Acadian folklorist, a story teller, and a musician. He tells his folklore in poem and in song. He plays the accordion, bagpipes, and fiddle on ship, and plays eight other instruments. He just starts doing his thing, on deck, whether anyone is around or not. But we are all soon there, listening. His dream is to travel to Louisiana, to visit his cousins, the Cajuns, and compare his folklore to theirs.

We went through Passamaguoddy Bay, through the Bay of Fundy. We passed Rosevelt's cottage, where he used to take his mistress, or so we were told.  A small rocky island appeared to have a snow covering. But it was bird waste, from the thousands of birds who made it home. The Bay of Fundy is a major natural reserve of life. 

     Barbara was recruited as Captain, for a time, and got to sail the ship. She asked about the life jackets. The captain told her, “This is the North Sea. If you fall overboard, you'll be dead in three minutes. You don't need a life jacket.”  I was recruited to haul in the jib sails at the end of the trip. Now, where's the fairness in that? Barbara's steering the ship, I'm wadding up sails. But, the Captain seemed to enjoy her company more that mine. Can't say I blame him. Barbara's a fun girl.

     A friend of mine from McCrory, where we lived for a time, was a saturation diver in the North Sea for an oil company. A French company nearby averaged losing a diver a day, for a time. A dangerous job, but it pays well. He was all about danger. He came to McCrory and began piloting a helicopter spraying crops. He clipped the tail rotor off once on a power line. Without a tail rotor, a helicopter just goes round and round in the direction the blade is turning until it crashes. He broke his leg. The upside was, I could always beat him at tennis while he wore a boot.

     The Bay of Fundy was one of the great natural wonders we experienced. If you ever go to Maine, go up just a little farther and book a trip on the tall sailing ship Cory. It's a great experience. We explored New York for a few days, but you have all done that, so I’ll just jump on past to the Amish Country.

   

     At Starlight camp, we were on top of a mountain overlooking the Amish country. Farms seem to have 20 or 30 acres. Dozens of giant hot air balloons were taking off at daylight. They make good use of their land. We went to an Amish Farmer's Market the next day. Shoofly Pie, fresh squeezed apple juice. Barbara was about to take a picture of two Amish men, playing checkers. They waved it off, no pictures. They were making a living off the tourists, and I thought that was a little odd. We overate chocolate at Hershey. Horse and buggy rigs were just everywhere. The simple life has it's attraction, taking life directly from the land. Many of their harvesting devices were familiar, from Wing, many years ago.

     We moved to Gettysburg, and toured the battle site. So much pain and death on these fields. The last man to fall on Pickett's charge fell right here, by these bushes. We left out on a dreary morning, somehow appropriate. Past a statue of an officer on his horse at the crest of a hill, past thousands of crosses standing in straight rows. We don't want to glorify war, but we must pay tribute to these brave men. We were glad we saw it, even more glad when we left.

Forever A Hillbilly: The Tidal Bore

Forever A Hillbilly: The Tidal Bore: THE TIDAL BORE WAS A REALLY NEAT THING. The Bay of Fundy lies between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, and has a funnel shape. We were near ...