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My article concerning the vanishing Hillbillies met with such popularity and enthusiasm, I thought it would show my gratitude if I produced a sequel. But as sequels often do, it may fall flat on its face. The fact that I am doing this though, is a little embarrassing in that it has such similarity to one of my pet peeves when I was growing up. I have discovered though, that it was not a peculiarity of Hillbillies but rather, just lots of people. I recall that some, if they made some impromptu statement that was really hilarious, would say it again after the laughing subsided. And it was never so hilarious the second time. That is how sequels turn out quite often.
Once again, I don’t believe that Hillbillies were any more superstitious than the big city people, in fact, they were not lacking in any respect that I ever noted other than possibly being less affluent and also unable to obtain the educational level in those early years. But there were people who were illiterate, same as in the cities, some very superstitious as in the cities, etc.
My family perhaps were average in that respect. Although professing not to be superstitious in any sense, my mother would still plant her garden according to the phases of the moon. She insisted that they grew better when planted under those signs. We also had a custom of eating Black-eyed peas, turnip greens and hog jowl for New Year Dinner. There too, the saying went that eating these foods, especially the peas, would give you prosperity throughout the year. But this one I do feel was never done because of that saying at our house. It was a custom only.
I was dismayed once with my father, who normally took no part in any superstition. He purchased a crabapple tree seedling and set it out. He loved crabapple jelly. It grew beautifully, quickly formed a good sized tree and started to bear a few apples. But, it developed a blight and a number of the branches began to die. Dad just about went bananas. He inquired of the county agent who should know about those things, but knew of no way to stop the blight. He asked everyone he could think of. Finally, now listen to this carefully, an old fellow told him to get a black powdered shotgun shell, and the morning after the full moon in August, get up early and fire that shotgun shell, over the tree toward the rising sun!!! So, he began hunting a black powdered shell. I told him, “Dad, you’ve got to be kidding." But he told me that he was at his rope’s end and wasn’t going to let any possibility pass. So, to my disappointment, he went through with the thing. But here is the kicker, the next spring, when the tree put out it’s new leaves, there was no evidence of the blight anymore.
Now that sounds unreasonable and so it was…in my opinion. But fortunately it did not cause my Dad to give that process credit for curing his tree. He had also been instructed by another fellow to get into the tree and carefully cut out each limb that had any dead leaves on it, take them all away from the tree and burn them. So, he had already done that before the ridiculous shooting of the shotgun. I was able to convince him that the limb trimming had to be the answer to it. But I wonder to this day, where in the world such an outrageous procedure originated.
Speaking of outrageous beliefs, etc. I have heard quite a few as I grew up and even in more recent years. I recall once when my brother and I were busy planting corn one spring while Dad was working away from home, an old man (neighbor) came into the field where we were and said, “Boys, you ort not to be planting this corn today." and when we asked him why, he explained that the wind was blowing out of the east and if we planted during that, we would be sure to have lots of smut in the corn. (smut is a fungus, Aflatoxin, which infests some grains of corn and causes them to swell up big and black, filled with a powdery substance similar to soot and is toxic to animals). It is not caused by east wind but rather by high humidity and the presence of the fungus. After we explained to the old man that Dad had told us to plant it, he went away huffily.
And, more recently…some 35 years ago, I lived in the suburbs of Marietta, Georgia and raised a small vegetable garden behind my house. One spring I was planting okra (a southern favorite) when my next door neighbor came over, and making conversation asked what I was planting. When I hold him it was okra, he remarked that I would not harvest anything from it by planting it during dark nights. When I asked why, he explained that okra just wouldn’t produce if planted during dark nights, something I had never heard before. I explained to him that I worked all the time and even most Saturdays so I couldn’t wait for light nights, he went away warning me that I would regret it. I was fortunate to have a much better spot of soil than he did. Mine was rich and sandy loam. My garden turned out beautifully that year with the okra growing as high as a persons head and continuously loaded with pods of okra. His looked pitiful beside it, but I offered no comment to him. I can imagine he was angry already.
Of course, superstitions were not the only humorous incidents in ‘them thar hills’. As I have said before, we had those who were of a lower class, just as you will find in any city. Some were poor, others were poor and willfully ignorant. A few were illiterate and cared not whether their children received any education. We had one fellow who had failed to attend school on a regular basis and consequently had failed several grades. He was still attending Gnatville school in the 8th grade when he was drafted into the army during World War 2. Without intending to ridicule his family of 6, to say the least, probably had an accumulative IQ of under 500. He received orders to report to Fort McClellan, about 20 miles away for 3 days of examinations and classification. Well, you could not believe the strutting and subtle discussion of this coming trip that he had before going. He was a huge fellow and strong as an ox but it was all below his chin. All of his family either chewed tobacco or dipped snuff, except him. But after the three day trip to the Fort, he came back smoking cigarettes, and trying to speak with a Yankee accent! I’m serious. As far as I know, he served honorably and returned home after the war, just as he was when he left.
There was also a family in our area who maintained a reasonably average reputation although the father was a blow-hard and braggart, possibly because he was not overloaded with smarts and his wife was a very intelligent and lovely person. He may have suffered from an inferiority complex. His oldest son, about my age, was a nice enough kid, but like his father was never to be awarded the Nobel prize for intellect, often came to our house to play with me and my brother. My brother was almost 3 years older than I was, so was not particularly fond of our level of playing but normally joined in to be sociable and for the lack of anything better to do.
But the neighbor kid always wanted to play “Booger Bear", a game he had dreamed up that was not a game at all but simply a scare one another process. I and my brother hated the mess but due to our mother’s insistence that we play what he wanted since he was guest, we had to do it.
We had a large thermometer high on our porch wall. The neighbor kid nor I were able to see and read it. So he asked my brother what it read, to which he replied, “86 degrees". And the boy said, “Hot or cold?". My brother looked at him in unbelief and said, “Hot".
Much of the interesting peculiarities concerning the 20’s and 30’s were not unique to the Hillbilly society, but just that it was a long time ago and things have changed…a lot. During those years, you rarely, if ever, found a high society family living in the backwoods and mountains. Now, that is where you find most of them. It was an experience that was beneficial to those who grew up there. You received a knowledge of animals, both domestic and wild, that many are unable to gain in their full lifetime. You learn survival techniques that also are seldom learned in urban areas. Children, perhaps learned to be more self reliant and developed more ingenuity than in any other setting. Toys for children were nearly nil. Even on Christmas, our Dad brought home a large sack of oranges and a stalk of bananas. We had to build our own toys. Some of the very simple ones I recall (which would hold a boy’s attention only a limited time, follows:
We would take a small board about ¼ in thick, cut it to about 1-½ inches wide and perhaps 8 inches long, drill a small hole in one end and find a strong piece of cord about 4 feet long and tie one end through the hole. You can then start swirling the thing round and round as one does a lasso and usually the board will begin to vibrate and make a loud buzz, even a light roar, depending upon the size and weight of the piece. If it does not, you can slow down a little and allow the board to tip the ground and it will begin. Now, that does not sound like much compared to a remote controlled model airplane. But for us it was of some interest.
Another with a bit of skill and strength involved. You could take a dowel, such as an abandoned broom handle, heavier if you could find one, such as a shovel handle. Cut a piece about 8 inches long and whittle one end to a taper, use about 3 feet of the dowel simply as a bat. Dig a hole or slot in the ground with on side angled down into the hole. Lay the tapered stick into the slot with the taper extending out at an angle. Then stand beside it with the longer dowel held as a batter holds his bat, tap the tapered end with the bat, causing it jump flipping into the air and then attempt to knock it as far as you can with the bat. The longest distance wins. You can make Tiger Woods look like an amateur. Again, not much today but then, we were easier to please.
We also made our own whistles from a short piece of hickory limb, when the sap was right for sliding the bark off in one piece. We would make our own tiny barbeque pit with a piece of tin over the top and parch corn on it. The days were not boring even though they probably would be to children now. Maybe I’m wrong, but I believe that such a life was better.
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» left by Sandra E. Graham from Paragould, Arkansas (1 year 91 days ago.)
Great article! My mother grew up very superstitious--would never walk under a ladder; would turn around and go back home if a black cat crossed in front of her; etc., etc. However, she didn't seem to have passed on these traits to any of her children--Thank God! Respond to this comment
» left by Joel Hendon(10,717) Joel Hendon (1 year 91 days ago.)
Thanks for the comment Sandra. Only my oldest brother was mildly superstitious but denied it. He would avoid those forbidden things but would always say he just didn't want to take any chances. By the way, in one of your other comments, you said y'all were called "Clod Hoppers" sometimes. Yes, I remember that also although I never knew anyone to say it in derision (and you may not have meant that either). My mother used to call me a "Clod Hopper". Unless one has worked in hard clay fields, they probably do not understand the term. Pleasant memories, but long gone.
» left by Steve Radford(779) Steve Radford (1 year 90 days ago.)
Great article Joel. I had to cut down a crab apple tree a few years ago because of a blight. If only I had known about the black powder shotgun trick! Respond to this comment
» left by Joel Hendon(10,717) Joel Hendon (1 year 90 days ago.)
Thanks for the comment Steve. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) black powder shells are about extinct, I think. I don't really know where my Dad came up with that one. Respond to this comment
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