WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Five continued...

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Five continued...:                                    * After little Jesse was born, daddy decided to build a two room shack on the back side of Grandpa’s ...

Chapter Five continued...

                                   *

After little Jesse was born, daddy decided to build a two room shack on the back side of Grandpa’s place. Once it was finished, Daddy, Myrtle, Sissy, Franklin, Jesse and I took up residence. Sissy and I slept on the floor on a toe-sack filled with leaves, corn shucks, grass and bed bugs.  It wasn’t easy trying to sleep on a bed of this nature.

We led a simple life, no radio, no phone. I remember sitting in the evening on the floor shelling corn. As we sat there our hands busy, daddy told us stories. Some of them he made up and they made us all laugh. Before we knew it, we had shelled two sacks of corn. The next day daddy would take the corn to the mill to be ground into corn meal. He would give the Miller one of the sacks of corn in payment for the grinding.

Cowpeas, black-eyes peas, and Crowder peas were grown with a dual purpose in mind. When they were ready to be picked, Sissy and I would carefully put the dry peas in our tow-sacks, and then pull the vines. The vines we put into the barn for the cows to eat in the winter time. Times were terribly hard. I often don’t see how we survived. I’m surprised when I reflect back on what we didn’t have, that there was ever any contentment at all.

Yet, if one has never known any other existence, how can they know what they are missing? We accepted things as they were, knowing there wasn’t any reason to complain.

                                 *

We would dig wild roots. There were so many different kinds and we knew them all. Once they were dug and dried, daddy would take them also to Rogers to sell. I never knew what he got for them.

In the fall our attention turned to the chore of picking up walnuts. They were covered with a green hull which we had to beat off with a rock. Our hands were so stained with the green walnut juice that it looked like we had brown hands. Once the wagon was piled high with the hulled walnuts, daddy would take them into town to sell. He got Sissy a pair of high top pointed toe shoes on one visit. He got me a pair of black and tan boy’s shoes. I was so proud of my new shoes, I ran over a mile to show my best friend, Tommy Renfroe.

Sissy wasn’t as proud of hers as I was mine though. She took them out behind the house and cut the tops and toes off with the axe. I think she invented the first toe-less shoes. Once re-styled, she wore them proudly.

In the fall besides the walnuts, we picked up hickory nuts, chinkapins and hazelnuts. When it was too cold to go out in the winter, we’d sit by the fire and eat the nut fruits. Sometimes we’d parch field corn. I thought it had a wonderful taste. It’s hard to believe there could be happy times; we were so poor, unwanted and in the way all the time, or so it seemed. Sissy and I had our own way of making life bearable, we found fun and joy just being together.

                                     *

Gooby and Grandpa Kirk had a dog named Frisco. One day we were out in the woods and Frisco was with us. There was a ground hog up in an old leaning tree. Sissy filled her bloomer legs with rocks, climbed the tree and knocked that ole ground hog out. Frisco caught it almost before it hit the ground. Sissy took the wounded animal from his mouth and drug it to a nearby stream. There she held it under the icy cold water until it was dead.

We weren’t the only poor people in the area. We had some friends who were just as bad off as we were. They were Lettie, Leona, Verba and Elvira Metcalf. There were also two older boys, Elmer and Luz.  When we wanted to play with them, we had a certain way to holler. Our calls echoed in the mountains as we waited for their answer. If they could play, they returned the holler, their reply merging with our echoes. It was a mournful yet pleasant sound to our ears.

They lived high on a hill and we had to go down a long hill, across the hollow wand up yet another long hill to their house. We played in the woods, mostly.

Sometimes we would knock hornet nests out of trees. If the hornets tried to attack us, we would fall flat on the ground and hold our breaths. It must have worked as we never once got stung.

I remember fine stage shows we’d put on. We’d sing or recite poems. We stood an old bucket upside down in the middle of the smoke house, (that’s where the hogs were smoked after they had been butchered) then took turns taking center stage.

We made our own Christmas gifts. It might be a corn cob doll or a handkerchief made from a piece of cloth. We’d make fringe on the cloth by pulling the threads from the ends. Once our presents were made, we’d wrap them up in a brown paper sack or newspaper. We were always so proud and appreciative of whatever we received on Christmas morning.

                                      *

In the summer time, we would catch little gray,  fence lizards to play with. They wouldn’t hurt you and we naturally wouldn’t hurt them. We’d put twine string on them for a harness and they would pull little sticks across the ground. We pretended they were pulling logs to build a large mansion. When we tired of playing with them, we’d turn them loose.

There was another family in the area we played with some; not as often as the Metcalf’s, as these kids had a terrible mean streak. I wonder sometimes why we played with them at all. Maybe they had to be so mean to get any attention, as there were eighteen kids in all. It was told amongst the community that they got a new baby every Christmas. Their last name was Evans. I won’t try to name all of the kids. They lived in a two room house with a porch and a little lean-to kitchen. There were four or five kids at each end of the beds and at least two old hounds in bed with them. They were awfully dirty!

We had to walk to school with some of the Evans kids. Sometimes they would ride mules and they would try to run over Sissy and me. We would get behind trees or climb one to keep them from running us down. One day they threw hickory nuts at us. My head had knots all over it from where they had pelted me.

One cold winter day Gooby had the wood stove oven 

full of baked sweet potatoes. Doney Evans happened to stop by. She had on an old Army over-coat and it had big pockets in it. After she left, Gooby went to get the sweet potatoes and because Doney had filled her big pockets, almost all of the yams were gone. Boy was Gooby mad! I was so thankful it wasn’t Sissy or me this time.

One of my fondest memories of time spent with Sissy was when we would make a playhouse. We would lay out rocks for the rooms. Then we would find pieces of broken dishes or jar-lids which we used for our dishes. Green moss became fine carpet for the floors. Sissy’s name was ‘Lucille” and mine was “Grace.” I thought that Grace was the prettiest name I had ever heard. We would walk around on our tip toes with our mouths all pooched out. Strutting so, in our opinion gave us an air of elegance, pure country-refined.

It was our job to gather all the wood we used for heating and cooking. We had a sled with side boards on it and we would pull it to put the wood in. The best kind of wood to burn was pine-knots. They were made of rosin and would really burn fast and hot.

A light rain had begun to fall one cold afternoon as I sat whittling on a spool. Myrtle told me to stop my whittling and when I didn’t stop as soon as she told me to, she began beating me with a broom handle. Sissy yelled at her to stop, but she just kept on hitting me. Sissy grabbed me by the arm and out the door, into the rain we went. “You’ll not be beat again,” She said as we ran through the woods.

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Five

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Five:                             Chapter Five I soon acquired two half-brothers, Franklin and Jesse. They were alright, I suppose for lit...

Chapter Five

         Chapter Five

I soon acquired two half-brothers, Franklin and Jesse. They were alright, I suppose for little boys. Now that I had brothers, I thought even more often about James, and hoped one day he would be with Sissy and me. I think in my heart I knew however, this would never be.

Melissa returned to our home after being in Kansas City for a long time. She was very sick. One night Sissy and I heard some of the grown-ups talking about her illness. She’d had an abortion and there were complications.

She also had contacted a terrible disease, called syphilis, which put big water blisters all over her body. The disease made her have a fever which would be so high she would be out of her head for hours on end.

She suffered a horrible death. I thought it must be because she was so evil. When she died, it’s terrible to say, Sissy and I laughed and laughed. Melissa was only in her twenties the day she was buried in mid-March. From our front porch I looked at the mountain and smiled; he too, didn’t weep.

One day, long after Melissa’s demise, Sissy and I found one of her high heels shoes. We would take turns wearing it. We also had acquitted a boyfriend. When he was mine for the day, I would wear the shoe. When he was Sissy’s she would wear it. We wore that old shoe until the heel turned completely backward. About the time the shoe wore out, we decided we didn’t want a boyfriend any longer either.

                                    *

There were many unique remedies for different aliments, or just simply to ward off sickness. For Itch, lard and sulphur was used as an ointment. Once our bodies were smeared with the smelly mixture, we had to take a bath in boiled poke root. It would burn so bad; when I got out of the tub, my skin was beet red. I don’t think it cured the Itch, either.

For snake bite, green cow manure was applied to the wound, which was supposed to draw out the poison. One day Sissy and I were playing and found a little snake about two feet long. We beat it to pieces and as we did some of the blood got on my arm. Sissy grabbed me by the arm and ran as fast as she could to the cow lot. She didn’t just put cow manure on my arm. She put it all over me – face and all. To this day she claims she saved my life.

Gooby would make a tea from all kinds of roots and barks, then make us drink it. It was terrible.  So bitter our mouths drew up in a pucker, and shivers would go through our body. The “cure” was supposed to purify our blood. We’d hold it in our mouth and if we could, we’d spit it out. Unfortunately, Gooby usually watched us pretty close and made sure we swallowed every drop of it.

                                  *

I loved spring time in Arkansas. Following a long cold winter and spring rains, the woods and hollows seemed to come alive. The May apple was the first sign of spring as it poked its head through the dead leaves on the ground; then all kinds of wild flowers would dot the fields and mountains with color and a sweet aroma. And then, the mushrooms.

Right after a rain, and if the sun came out nice and warm, you could almost see the mushrooms pop through the ground. They grew in the hollows and Sissy and I would take two big buckets and fill them to the brim. They were really a treat after eating beans, cowpeas and cornbread all winter. 

Sometimes we had to endure cornbread and molasses three times a day for days and days -- a delicacy from God were the mushrooms.

Other times, Sissy and I would take a knife and two buckets and go into the woods to hunt wild greens. We knew exactly what to gather, cow parsley, dock, crows-feet, lambs quarter, square weed, pike, dandelion, thistle, lamb’s tongue and wild lettuce.

Spring meant garden time, also, for us. We worked hard keeping the weeds out and cultivating the soil. Sissy and I would take turns hoeing and hauling rocks which were embedded in the ground. I didn’t mind hauling the rocks, but did not find any pleasure in using the hoe.

After the soil had been properly cultivated, fields of corn were planted. When the corn stood about a foot high, climbing pole beans were planted at each hill of corn. The time of bean harvest when they had matured and turned dry, would find Sissy and me with toe-sacks over our tiny shoulders. We were usually careful when picking the beans as we knew this would be our winter meal.

One day, we grew tired of picking the beans and decided to rest. We began to take the bean leaves and stick them to our dresses, making pretty designs. I’m not sure which of us began, but soon both Sissy and I were really giving Gooby the dickens. We called her every cuss word we knew. We imitated the way she chewed her chaw, then spit. Such fun we were having.

Suddenly, the air took on the feeling of impending doom, like tornado weather on the horizon. Even the birds in the trees grew quiet. We looked around and there stood Gooby.

She had been watching and listening to Sissy and me the whole time. She tore into us, beating us across our shoulders and back with a long stick. I didn’t mind the licks, I felt what we had said was true and I wasn’t one bit sorry. I don’t believe Sissy was either. Neither of us cried.

About the only time Sissy or I ever cried was when we thought about our mama. We were always looking for her to come and rescue us. We could hear the freight train whistle all the way from Rogers and would sit, hoping that she was on that train. I remember the lonesome sound of that ole train whistle and the pain in my heart as if it were today.

Wild geese would fly overhead on their yearly pilgrimage south, and we’d wonder if they had a home; and if they too, were sad and hungry. I think we thought they might be like us, unloved and unwanted.

One day our prayers were answered, almost. Mama did come to get us, but Daddy wouldn’t let us go. I don’t know how mama got there, nor do I recall what we did together. I just remember the visit was short. I do, painfully, remember when she left.

Sissy and I walked about a mile with her down the dusty road which led to town. We sat for a time side-by-side, under a sycamore tree. I believed in my heart she would stay, how could she not? We were her two daughters, we were important to her.

When she walked away, leaving us standing alone in the middle of the dusty lane, we knew life would not change for us. We held hands and cried all the way home.

to be continued ...

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Four

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Chapter Four:                            Chapter Four Myrtle being my step-mother and Gooby, my step-grandma was only a portion of my bad luck. My...

Chapter Four

                           Chapter Four

Myrtle being my step-mother and Gooby, my step-grandma was only a portion of my bad luck. Myrtle had a sister named Melissa. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was a lady of the night in Kansas City. She had a mean streak in her just like her ole mama, Gooby. She took great delight in mistreating Sissy and me.  

Although she could yell and cuss almost a bad as her mama, her meanness lay in her threats. I remember one time she threatened to chop mine and Sissy’s head clean off, just because she was mad at us.

She was coming toward us with the axe which Grandpa Kirk used for chopping kindling when Myrtle; doing probably the only nice deed she’d ever done, stopped her.

Melissa scared me so bad; I thought my heart would jump out of my throat. I could see my chest pounding - even heard it in my ears. I closed my mouth as tight as I could to keep my heart inside.

I truly believe she stayed up nights just thinking of ways to get Sissy and me in trouble.

Not far from our house was an old strawberry patch that was over-gown with Sassafras bushes and blackberry vines. One day when everyone was gone, Sissy and I ventured into the patch. We sought out and found almost a quart of the juicy, ripe strawberries. We stopped at the spring and washed them before heading home.

Not wanting to dirty any bowls, we decided to eat them straight out of the bucket. We first covered them with fresh cow cream and sugar. What a sweet treat they were. Unfortunately, we made the mistake of also adding a spoonful of vanilla.

The very instant Melissa waltzed into the house; she stopped still in the middle of the kitchen. She stood like a wooden soldier; her feet spread apart, her hands on her hips. Then she sniffed the air looking just like daddy’s ole hunting dog, Blue.

She bent at the waist, putting her face right in front of us and snarled … “What you kids been up to? I smell vanilla.”

We confessed we’d picked the strawberries and she flew into a rage. I covered my ears as she began yelling, “I was going to use those berries for Sunday dinner!”

Now I knew and so did Sissy that she wasn’t going to use those berries. I doubted seriously if she even knew there were strawberries or blackberries nearby. True to her mean streak, she made us lie on the floor with our noses in a crack for the rest of the day.

We didn’t’ dare move, talk or take our nose out of the crack. When Myrtle and daddy came home, they walked around the room, conducting their business without even a thought about Sissy and me lying there. I could never understand why daddy allowed everyone to mistreat us like that.

Many days, we would stay in the woods so we wouldn’t be whipped or mistreated. It’s so sad to carry a cloak of fear, especially when you are just a child.

The woods became an arena of freedom for us. There wasn’t a tree Sissy or I couldn’t name or climb. We’d shinny up big Oak trees, and then ride a limb down to the ground. We were like two little monkeys. We made grapevine swings and swung far out over deep hollows and creeks. Our wild yells echoed in the hollows as did our childish laughter.

We feasted on the many wild berries and grapes, my favorite being summer grapes. They were deep purple like a concord grape, only they grew on vines which wound high up into the trees. Sissy and I would eat the berries closest to the ground first, then without a care climb high up into the trees to feast on the ones that reached out to the heavens. 

We would eat, and eat, and eat the sweet grapes. Our purple stained lips framed smiles of freedom. How, I loved those grapes and the feelings I had inside me as I ate them in abandonment.

There were times when the woods gave me a scare. I could always rely on Sissy to be there for me if I needed her, and once I remember as we walked through the woods, we came upon a bunch of wild hogs. As fast as we could we climbed up into a nearby tree. We stayed perched on the limb watching the hogs push their snouts into the dirt, looking for food.

They made ugly snorting sounds, pawed at the ground and pushed and shoved one another.

From our perch, we could see the course hairs on their backs and heads. As their snouts rooted in the dirt, their breaths sent puffs of the dirt around their heads. They were a scary sight!

When finally they were gone, we started to climb down. Sissy went first and stood below me with her arms reaching toward me. She was ready to catch me if I fell, however I couldn’t move. It was one of the few occasions that I could not come down from a tree. After much coaxing to no avail, Sissy climbed back up into the tree and helped me down.

The woods gave us other causes for alarm also. We often had to go out in the woods and open fields and gather berries to sell. Sissy and I would pick the huckleberries first. They grew on low bushes in the woods.

There are a lot of copperhead snakes and timber-rattlers that we had to constantly watch out for. I’m surprised we never got bitten. I guess the good Lord watched over us.

When Sissy and I went to the woods to hide away, it was wonderful; however, when we went for the berries we went in fear. We didn’t dare go to the house until we had picked a bucket full apiece. The buckets held two and a half gallons. Daddy would take the huckleberries to the store and sell them. We got five cents, a whole nickel a gallon for them. With money in hand, daddy would go to town and buy sugar or coffee.

After the huckleberry season was over it was time to pick the blackberries. It was a lot harder picking the black sweetness which grew wild in briar patches. We usually wore our sleeves down around our wrists as the briars scratched and cut us, many times bringing blood.

There were a lot of black-snakes, coach-whips, blue-racers and green snakes in the briars also. They wouldn’t bite you, but scared me so bad I had to be careful not to wet on myself.

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Continued ....

WHEN THE MOUNTAIN WEEPS: Continued ....: Sissy and I attended school at Mountain View. There were kids from age seven to eighteen. We didn’t go to school like most folks. Instead ...