Chapter Seven
Eph and Lottie had built their home by themselves. It
was three rooms with a back porch that they later made into a dining room. The
house was built out of hand-hewn logs. The ceilings were white sheet- rock and I
thought it was so pretty; and more importantly, clean. On the north end of the
house was a big fireplace made out of smooth, gray rocks. The hearth (they
called it ‘harth’), was a big flat rock Eph had hauled in from the creek.
How good it felt to sleep in a real bed covered with
fluffy mattresses and pillows, and no bed bugs! I will never forget Eph and
Lottie for all the kindness they showed me then. They treated me no differently
than they treated Grover. If we worked hard we both received a fair reward. If
we did something we weren’t supposed to, we both got a whipping. They didn’t
beat us, and yet we knew if we were told to do something we best do it.
Grover
and I became a set, doing everything together. I don’t recall a day or moment
of being mad at one another, and never a cross word was uttered between us. No brother
and sister could have been closer than we were.
Not only was Grover nice, but he was handsome. He was
real fair-skinned, with blonde hair, bright blue eyes and the cutest smile I
had ever seen. I knew we were a sight, me alongside with my dark hair and eyes.
Grover had a little brown and white spotted dog named,
appropriately, Big Dog. He was a great hunting dog. Sometimes he would tree a squirrel
and Grover, with a single shot rifle, would shoot it out of the tree. Any time
Grover killed game, we skinned it, and then Lottie cooked it for the family,
Even though we were just kids, we worked right next to
the grown-ups. We cleared ‘new ground’ which was a back-breaking job. This is
land which has never been farmed before.
Timber had to be cut, the stumps dug or pulled out of
the ground. We used cross-cut saws and double-bit axes to cut the timber
because we didn’t have a chain saw.
Once while clearing timber, Eph accidently chopped his
big toe off. Grover and I conducted a fine funeral for it, burying it in the
corner of the yard. Grover said a few words over the newly departed toe, and
then we sang, “Amazing Grace.”
*
Grover and I were inseparable. If you wanted to find
one, look for the other. Together we carried water daily from the spring to use
for cooking and drinking. Large wooden barrels were positioned at the corners
of the eaves to catch rain water. On wash day the rain water was heated in an cast-iron wash kettle which hung over a fire-pit in the yard. It was mine and Grover’s
job to keep the fire burning so the water stayed boiling hot. Once the clothes had
been washed on a washboard and hung to dry, Grover and I took turns bathing in
the rinse water.
Spring cleaning, however, made wash day a totally
different experience. After the long winter was over and the sun was warm,
doors were thrown open, and the windows raised. Strong cord was stretched from
the side of the house, and then secured to a nearby Oak tree. The feather beds
and pillows were draped over the make-shift line to be aired out. Grover and I
took brooms and beat the feather beds, turning them several times so each would
be properly aired and sunned thoroughly.
This was fun work compared to the night before, which
would find Grover and me filling the big black cast-iron kettle in the yard
with the rain water. Once filled we had to gather and stack wood and kindling
nearby. Our bones ached from the weight of the water and logs as we later eased
our bodies into bed.
The sun was still hidden behind the mountains next
morning when we awoke. Soon we had the kindling and wood burning under the
kettle. We ate our breakfast of corn meal mush sweetened with molasses before
completing our chores as the water heated to near boiling.
Lottie then carefully ladled the hot water from the
kettle to an awaiting wash tub. Home-made lye soap shavings were added to the
remaining water in the big kettle. The dark clothes were scrubbed on a wash
board, the whites placed in the kettle and boiled. Once the whites met with
Lottie’s approval which was ‘snow white clean’ they were rinsed in two sets of
rinse water. The first was clear, the second a pale blue from the bluing which
Lottie had added. Finally they were hung out to dry.
Then, came the hard work. Big sand rocks had been
brought up from the creek bottom by Eph. These rocks were completely white and
real soft. We would beat them until they became grainy as white sand. Using the
left over lye water from our wash, we wet our natural pine floors before
sprinkling the sand over the boards. Every inch of the floor was scrubbed with
brooms until all evidence of the long winter was gone.
Rinse water from the huge tubs chased away the grimy
sand leaving the floors clean and the house sweet-smelling. It was a long hard
day but worth it as our bare feet touched the flowers of our labor.
Our clothes were ironed with flat-irons which were
heated on the wood stove in the kitchen. We didn’t have an ironing board, so we
ironed on the kitchen table with padding on it. Ironing was one chore which I
did alone, as Grover was not required to help.
It was also my job to make the fire in the cook-stove
and put the tea kettle on every morning. In the winter time, Grover made the
fire in the fireplace. Working together made our chores go quickly, though not
quick enough to get us to school on time. Once our morning duties had been
performed we raced four miles to class; we attended Mountain View.
One morning we were on our way to school and came to a
wooden gate which was lying across the road. Right next to the gate was a
pistol. We decided some drunk had probably dropped it. Anyway, we took the gun
with us. It is truly a miracle it wasn’t loaded as we played like we were going
to shoot each other. We had so much fun playing; we were mindless of the
tragedy it could have been if only one shell had remained in the chamber.
When we went home that afternoon we gave it to Eph. He
kept it for awhile hidden behind Lottie’s’ sugar pot, before selling it to a
neighbor.
One of our daily chores was to take morning milk to
Grover’s Grandma Farriester’s on our way to school and place it in the spring
to keep cool. When we returned, we would pick it up and take it home for
supper. We usually cut across a field so it would be closer. The field had a
shallow pond in it, which was full of water bugs.
Grover had just gotten a new straw hat. We thought that
the hat would make a perfect seine to catch those water bugs. It was almost
dark when we arrived at home. Lottie was waiting on the front porch, switch in
hand. That was my first whipping from her. I knew we needed one … I knew we
shouldn’t have pulled a stunt like that … and knew for certain we would not do
it a second time.
*
Eph and Lottie had a little shed which was used to
store hay, and also milk the cows. One day Grover and I were getting some of
the loose hay (it wasn’t in bales) for the cows, and found this funny copper coil.
Grover made me promise I wouldn’t tell a soul about it. He confided in me, that
this was what Eph used to make moonshine.
After I had lived with the Farriester’s for a spell,
they knew I could be trusted, and allowed me to help in making the whiskey. Eph
had a big oak barrel in the hen house.
First, he put ground corn and water in the barrel.
After adding sugar, he let the mixture set and ferment. When it was ready to
make into whiskey we hauled it down to the bowels of the holler, or someplace
where we would be well hidden. There the mixture was cooked over a fire.
I don’t recall the procedure that went into the making
of the home brew, but do remember the last part. When the steam went through
the little copper coil that was in a vat of cold water, it exited out pure
whiskey. It was my job to catch the whiskey in jars. Next we took a brace and
bit (that’s like a drill), and drilled holes in a piece of hickory.
The hickory shavings were then wrapped in a clean cloth
bag and placed inside each jar. Like magic, the clear whiskey soon became an
amber color from the shavings.
The dreaded federal men were always looking for
moon-shiners. Eph had to be so careful not to get caught making the whiskey,
never cooking his mash off in the same place twice. Times were so hard people
were doing whatever it took to make a living. When Eph sold any of his whiskey
he got $.25 a quart for it.
If anyone bought a large amount of sugar at one time,
you could be sure and expect a visit from the Feds. We never knew if they kept a close eye on the
grocery store, or had someone planted inside who ratted on friends and neighbors
for a few dollars.
One time, Eph had just cooked his mash when he got word
the Feds were near-by. Grover and I
helped him dump the prized mash into pig troughs. Mama pig and her babies were
soon gathered at the trough, quickly devouring the mash.
Eph made a quiet exit into the woods, leaving Grover
and I alone with the pigs. It wasn’t long before we were laughing so hard our
sides ached; as we watched the pigs stagger, fall down, then try to stand again,
squealing loudly – inebriated beyond belief.
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