Walking through the woods on the day of the autumn equinox, she found them. Tokens lying at the foot of a tree. Arranged in a precise manner. A fall leaf signifying the season. The season when the harvest is over and it’s time to rest and renew. There was a grey feather. A sign that balance will be achieved in the universe. A sign of the season of neutrality and hope. Last, she saw the two red tokens. Red for boldness, passion, and creativity. She sat at the foot of the tree and let the magic of the tokens overtake her.
When we hear the term “hillbilly” or “redneck,” we automatically have a negative connotation associated with them. To those who aren’t familiar with Southern Appalachia, we think of the TV show, “The Beverly Hillbillies,” or the movie, “Deliverance,” and the associated depiction of the two terms. Those images are only caricatures dreamed up by show business.
The term “hillbilly” is an old term that simply refers to people who live in the mountains, in rather remote areas, and live their own way. It doesn’t mean they don’t wear shoes or that they’re ignorant, but we tend to use the term as a slur to refer to people we consider hillbillies. Hillbilly seems to have somehow gotten tied up in a social class definition. That couldn’t be further from the truth. My grandfather, who was born deep in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky, was certainly a hillbilly, but he and his family were of at least the high middle socio-economic class regarding income, social standing, and education.
The word “hillbilly” originally referred to a type of music played and developed in the mountains. Hillbilly music was the original bluegrass music. Pure, original Bluegrass music originated in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s in isolated pockets in the mountains, usually through the music of family groups or bands. Somehow, the word shifted from the music of the people to the people themselves. Most mountain people don’t mind being called hillbillies. When it is used as a slur based on an imagined stereotype, that shows the ignorance of the user and not the hillbilly.
The word “redneck” is thrown around today as a slang word referring to people with, usually, a particular way of life and political persuasion. We think of rednecks and we immediately see the Confederate flag, conservative leanings, and guns. Perhaps that is the modern definition of “redneck, but it is not what the word originally referred to.
The word “redneck” originally came from Scotland and referred to those who worked outdoors and had a sunburned neck as a result. It also referred to peaceful protestors against mining officials because the protestors tied a red bandana around their necks.
The word “redneck” is not a word tied to the mountains or to any geographic region. You can be from the middle of the largest cities. If your beliefs are based on the Second Amendment, you fly the Confederate flag in the back of your pickup truck, and you believe in far right-wing politics, you are the modern definition of a redneck.
When I was growing up, I never saw a Confederate flag at my grandfather’s house in Eastern Kentucky. The only guns I saw were a couple of hunting rifles used to deer hunt for food. My grandfather was a centrist in his politics but leaned left. The modern definitions of “hillbilly” and “redneck” would not fit him even though he was one of the originals.
The way that people talk in the Appalachian region of America, particularly the Southern Appalachian region, is a subject that has always fascinated people from other regions. Southern Appalachia runs from southeastern Pennsylvania to Alabama. The dialect has often had fun poked at it because it sounds different than English spoken in other areas of the U.S. It isn’t as simple as just the fact that the Appalachian people have a particular accent. Their actual speech patterns may differ from traditional English.
One of the myths about the Appalachian dialect is that it dates back to Shakespearean English. Not true. It probably goes even further back to the days of Chaucer. The dialect has survived, for one reason, because of the geographic isolation of the area. Appalachia is mountainous with hills not as high and new as the Rocky Mountains in the west, but high hills nonetheless. They are more rounded and green. The Appalachian Mountains have been here longer and have sheltered the people from many outside influences. Roads into the area have been difficult to build and expensive. There still aren’t many of them.
The fact is that the Appalachian dialect is close to that of the first settlers to America. Chances are, the English spoken among the first colonial settlers sounded a lot like the Appalachian English of today. It is the English of the Scots-Irish immigrants who first settled in Appalachia. Other cultures are also represented in the Appalachian dialect. The area had 10% African-Americans around 1860. German immigrants also populated the area.
Not only does the English spoken in Appalachia sound different due to the way words are pronounced, the grammatical structure of sentences is actually different. One difference is the agreement between the subject and verb in a sentence. An example would be, “Horses is large animals,” and “We went to find the dogs, which was over the hill.” This pattern of speech was found in the Scottish lowlands as well as colonial America due to the Scots immigration to the area.
Maybe the vocabulary of Appalachian speech is most fascinating. Words like “poke” refer to a sack. “Pone” refers to bread made in a skillet, usually cornbread. A well-known word is “holler” which refers to the valley or hollow between two mountains. “Sallet” refers to salad. The Appalachians put the letter “a” before verbs like “I’ll be a-going to the store right now.” Unusual contractions are used like “They done gone to town.”
The people have southern Appalachia have been laughed at and discriminated against because of their different dialect. They have been called “rednecks” and “hillbillies” in a derogatory way. During the great migration of Appalachian people, between the 1940s and 1960s, to northern climates in the U.S. to find work, the city of Cincinnati, Ohio actually made it against the law to discriminate against them.
There are many legends and myths associated with Southern Appalachia and those surrounding the language and dialect of the Appalachian people are just some of them.
I live in the country so wildlife is abundant. Deer, raccoons, the occasional bobcat. Even the elusive red fox. The road to get to my house is just barely a two-lane road. Traffic is increasing on that rather dangerous road as more and more people build homes near me.
A few days ago, I was driving home from town and that’s when it happened. My brush with the usually elusive red fox. Even though they live in the forest all around me, you seldom see them. They are shy creatures. You’re lucky if you get a peek at one. This day, I got more than a peek. Far more.
I was driving up a hill on our road and I saw an animal in the road. There is no mistaking a red fox. He was standing in the middle of road. Just standing there. That is very odd behavior for a red fox. I was afraid he would run in front of me, so I stopped. It was fascinating to look at him but terribly disturbing. I had never seen an animal so thin and emaciated. This fox was sick or he wouldn’t have been standing in the middle of the road.
I pulled up to him, but I was afraid to get out of the car. Rabid animals often come out of hiding and approach people. I sat there and wondered what to do. He needed to get off the road before someone ran over him.
Within a few moments, someone pulled behind me and two men got out of the car. They realized why I was stopped. We all looked at the fox and the men mentioned the possibility of rabies, although there are other illnesses that could have been afflicting the fox.
They told me to drive on so I wouldn’t hold up traffic and they pulled their car off to the side. They were going to try to get the fox back into the woods. I came home terribly sad but concerned about just the possibility of rabies. A case of rabies near a populated area is cause for concern.
I reported the fox and his condition to the heath department. In turn, they were going to call Fish and Wildlife. The goal was to find the fox and determine his health condition.
I hope they’ve found the fox. It’s hard to think about any animal being so ill. It disturbed me for the rest of the day and days after.
I look in the old hand-held mirror that I’ve stuck up on the wall. I glance quickly behind me, wondering if my mother is behind me and it’s her image that I see.
I come to the old homeplace sometimes. I can feel the ghosts here so no wonder I think my mother has crept up on me. I sneak in the back door so no one will see me.
My childhood is here. I can hear it. My parents are talking softly in the kitchen. I sit down in the old rocking chair and wish for days gone by.
“Maybe the crescent moon is a hopeful sign,” she said to him.
They were sitting on their porch looking off at the crescent moon hanging above the treetops. The quiet of their neighborhood permeated her thoughts. It had been like this most of the time since the pandemic started. Even though the homes were an acre apart, people were afraid of the deadly virus and stayed inside. One in a while, the children came out to play and she welcomed the noise they made.
“It’s been like this for months,” he replied. “When will life ever be normal again or will it?”
John was more restless than she was. He was pulling at the restraints that the pandemic placed upon him. He was a more social person and missed the interactions with his friends and family. She was more of an introvert, but even she was tired. Tired of being afraid. Tired of never feeling free to come and go. They both missed their family and friends.
“It’s so eerily quiet, John,” she said.
“Even when we drive to the city, the streets are empty. Everyone is either working from home or not working at all.”
“Have you noticed how people that we do see look?” John asked. “We all seem to have a deer in the headlights look of panic and fear on our faces. Everyone is just down and out. We’ve never seen anything like this in our lifetimes.”
“You know the crescent shape of the moon with either end pointing up as they are signifies feminine strength and energy. Women are strong, John. We have to endure a lot. I’m going to look at that moon and gather strength from it. We’re going to make it through this crisis.”
“I’ve been so afraid that you will get sick,” John said. “I know you’re strong and we both have to gather all our strength and not make a mistake.”
“This will pass,” she said. “After the waning crescent moon is the new moon. A time of enlightenment and renewal. Maybe that time will bring good news to all of us.”
After reading a number of news sources, I’m left wondering what the current President of the United States has to do to get thrown out of office. He is trying to shut down one of America’s great institutions – the United State Postal Service. Can you imagine? When he first started talking about it, an optimistic person might have thought that his concern over mail-in voting was an opinion he formed legitimately. After you hear Trump talk about the Post Office and mail-in voting, many of us realize that his concern is not legitimate at all. A number of states have had mail-in voting for years, The incidence of fraud is less than one-half of a percent. What’s more, he’s allowing one state, Florida, his state of residence, to have mail-in voting. This is fair?
It is apparent that Trump is trying to suppress the vote. He knows that many people will not go to a polling place to vote for President in November 2020 due to fears over the pandemic. A pandemic that his administration failed to even try to control until it was too late. Instead, he tried to say that the COVID19 virus would magically disappear and offer solutions which were medically unsubstantiated. Even dangerous. Trump thinks that if he gets rid of the Post Office and any chance of mail-in voting, he will have a better chance of beating Joe Biden in the race for the Presidency.
The unbelievable thing is that Trump is not even trying to hide that he is engaging in voter suppression. He admits it. He is actively trying to cause people not to have the opportunity to exercise their right to vote and he is breaking laws regarding election tampering in the process. What does this man have to do to get thrown out of office? Kill someone?
The latest news is that Trump is having the mail sorting machines removed from post offices around the U.S. Leaving postal workers without any way to sort the mail is such terrible thing that it almost defies believability. Of course, mailed in ballots will swamp the post office and without any way to sort the mail, it will take months to receive and count the ballots.
Trump installed one of his political campaign donors as Postmaster General. He is, of course, complicit in this effort at voter suppression. The Republican Senators that sit by and allow him to do these things are complicit. They are just as responsible as he is. Trump and his Republican cronies in the Senate should all be voted out of office in November and the Postmaster General should be removed as soon as possible.
Any voter that puts their stamp of approval on what Donald J. Trump is doing, from actively breaking the law to morally bankrupting our government deserves what they get if he is elected. The rest of us need to vote, regardless of where or how we have to do it. If we don’t vote him out of office, the future of our country is, indeed, at risk.
The cottage was in the small village that was surrounded by moorland. The scenery was beautiful outside. Green, peaceful, pleasant. The village was sleepy, but friendly. When they arrived here, they remembered how the times with her parents at the cottage were filled with love and care. They were gone now, but they had given she and her husband the lovely gift of the cottage. They used it as a get-away from high-pressure life they lived in the city. Now, the pandemic had driven them out of the city and they took refuge in the cottage in the countryside.
It was a very small place, perfect for two people, though when they came here with her parents, they squeezed in four. It had only four rooms downstairs. In the front, there was a large living area with cushy furniture and colors that reminded her of her childhood. Lots of pinks, greens, and blues. Some of her artwork from childhood was hanging on the walls along with lovely photos of this part of the country and pictures of family members who were all gone now. A big fireplace and hearth were at the side of the room with floor pillows all around. They enjoyed this room.
At the side of the living room and across from the fireplace stood a ladder leaning up to allow access to the open loft. The loft was where she and her husband slept. The ceiling was high because of the V-shaped pitched roof of the cottage. The bedding was a calm beige with a big comforter covering the bed. There were a few other pieces of furniture. Old tables used as nightstands. A trunk at the end of the bed where they could sit. It held treasures from the past. She made sure this was an inviting place. One with soft surfaces and warm throws everywhere. Soft blue filled the room.
Behind the living area was the big kitchen and workroom. An Aga stove dominated the kitchen and everyone seemed to gather here. In front ot the stove stood a long country dining table, also used for cooking preparation. Comfortable chairs with cushions were around three sides of the table. Friends came here to sit and drink endless cups of tea with them.
The small, but cozy, bedroom was at the side of the house. It contained everything a guest would need. The bathroom was by the bedroom and in it was a claw foot tub. The bathroom had been updated to allow for a shower. Her pots and creams and sticks full of color made the room smell like heaven. Potions and lotions were all around the big tub.
Because of the pandemic, he had been laid off his job, but she was still working remotely. Coming to the cottage and the green of the moorland relaxed both of them and allowed them to think about something other than sickness and death. They planted a small kitchen garden behind the cottage. Her mother’s flower garden was also there, bursting with color and the promise of new beginnings.
She would sit with her small dog on the back porch while he puttered in the gardens. Her head were filled with love and a glimmer of hope for the future. She watched the cloud bank roll across the moorland and thought of how clouded her own vision had been in the past. There was a time she saw only despair, but that time was gone. Her vision had cleared and, finally, she realized how lucky she was to have him.
We’re in the seventh month of the pandemic in the U.S. When I talk to friends, family, and strangers, I hear them speak of a range of emotions. Depression, anxiety, despair, rage, overwhelming sadness, grief. It’s hard to sort it all out. I feel all those emotions myself combined with a few more. Panic, desperation, claustrophobia, and even happiness. What we feel is a reaction to the unknown and it manifests in each person differently.
The situation we face, at least in the United States, is one we’ve never faced before. To one degree or another, what sums up all of those emotions is fear. We’re afraid. We fear we’ll get sick and that our loved ones and friends will get sick. Even those people who deny that COVID19 exists, and there are many of them, feel fear. They fear that their lifestyles have been taken away from them and they don’t know if it’s permanent or not. It’s quite likely that all of us have both fears. The fear of illness and the fear that nothing will ever be the same.
At the first of the pandemic, many Americans were in shock. Those that were most prepared for the situation we faced were The Greatest Generation. They are the ones who lived through the Great Depression, World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and so much more. Very few are alive who lived through the Spanish Flu pandemic in 1917 and 1918. To our dismay, The Greatest Generation is rapidly disappearing. They could teach us so much if we would listen.
Imagine the unknowns The Greatest Generation faced. During the Great Depression, some literally did not know where their next meal was coming from or if they could continue to provide shelter for their families. Then came World War II. Most able-bodied men between the ages of 18-35 were sent off to war or enlisted voluntarily. If you were an enlisted man in combat, you had no idea if you’d ever go home again, ever see your family, or even live through the day. If you were a woman who had not enlisted, you were home without the 24/7 news cycle that we have today. You had the radio and sketchy, spotty news reports. You sat by the radio and listened to the American President, FDR, whenever he came on to give a report. Most of the time you didn’t know if your husband, brother, son, father and many of members of your family were alive or dead. We think we are scared due to the pandemic or feel any of the other common emotions right now? Imagine how they felt.
During the first part of the pandemic, despite our shock, we had to get ready to isolate ourselves. That involved stocking up on food, supplies, medicine. There were runs on grocery stores that caused fear and anxiety since we didn’t know if we would be able to get what we need. Since I have a co-morbidity, I have been at home since February with very few exceptions. I haven’t seen anyone in my family during this time and I’ve only seen a friend once or twice. There are a lot of people out there just like me.
I feel everything every other American feels. I’m angry that the coronavirus was allowed to get out of hand in our country and blame the lack of leadership at the top for that happening. I carry a high level of anxiety most days, I worry if I get out, I’ll get sick even though I wear a face covering and take all the recommended precautions. I miss my friends and family. If I allow myself to think too much about the pandemic, I feel panic and despair. I listen to the statistics every day about the deaths this virus has caused, and I feel grief and overwhelming sadness for those families. I feel claustrophobic daily even though I’m luckier than so many people and have a house and yard in which to move around.
Mostly, when I think about it, all of these emotions culminate in fear. Fear of the unknown. I wonder what life will be like after the pandemic. I even wonder if there will be an “after.” The virus could be here to stay. A vaccine will only be moderately effective. Will Americans ever have the freedom we once had and probably did not appreciate? The virus deniers are determined to live their lives anyway and there is something I admire about that while fearing their lives will be cut short.
Perhaps, besides fear, my primary emotion is gratitude for what I have. I still have a job while many don’t. I’m with my husband here in our home and we try to take care of each other. So far, we’ve been able to get the food and medicine we need. The pandemic makes us look at the very basics of life.
I still have hope for the future although it isn’t as shiny as it once was. The pandemic has devastated not only the American economy but also the American society. Will we ever get back to being the “shining city on the hill?” No one can answer that question right now.
The Write Scribe 