tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33326617990618119372024-03-05T04:34:14.695-05:00Betty Lewis, WV WriterTravel with me thru the Wild, Wonderful Mountains of West Virginia. I will take you on a journal thru photos and stories - join me. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-84575775515726960282020-03-31T21:54:00.000-04:002020-03-31T09:50:47.734-04:00WWII, Korean, Vietnam War Stories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
May 22, 1944-April 6, 1946<br />
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On February 14, 1926, Carl P. Beverage was born in Marlinton, West Virginia, Pocahontas County. He was raised on a farm located in an area of Pocahontas County known as Stoney Creek and attended West Union Grade School located approximately four miles from the farm. He, along with his five brothers and two sisters, walked the distance to and from school each day. The school was a one-room schoolhouse and served the community of Stoney Creek. After completing eight years at West Union Grade School, Carl entered Marlinton High located in Marlinton, West Virginia. He attended high school until shortly after his 18th birthday. Patriotism was high in the small community and all young men were encouraged to fight for their country.<br />
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On May 22, 1944, Carl enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps and was sent to boot camp at Paris Island, South Carolina. After completing basic training and other military training Carl was stationed at Camp Pendleton, California, prior to being assigned to the 6th Division, 4th Marines for overseas deployment.<br />
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Private Beverage, upon deployment, participated in the Battle of Okinawa. The Island of Okinawa had been "The Japanese Door Step." If the Americans could successfully invade Okinawa then they would only be 362 miles from Kyusha, one of the Japanese home islands. Okinawa Island was made for combat because there were many caves, ridges and cliffs to provide cover. The Japanese had had time to prepare for an invasion and had dug tunnels, built blockhouses, pillboxes and camouflaged caves. There were 70,000 Japanese troops to defend the island. The Japanese troops had made a commitment to stand, win or lose the war, and were going to fight to the death. Surrounding the Island were 1,300 American war ships with approximately 100,000 American soldiers on them. The ships, prior to the invasion, were subjected to Japanese Kamikazes attacks (suicide planes).<br />
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On April 1, 1945, Private Beverage, along with the 6th Division, 4th Marines and Allied forces stormed the beaches. The U.S. Forces originally expected vicious beach attacks but the Japanese offered little or no resistance on the beach landing. The Marines, along with other American Forces, pushed up hills and mountains and captured Nakagusuka Bay, in addition to two airfields. By the end of the first week, the Americans controlled half of the island. Still, they had suffered few casualties and met little resistance.<br />
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Finally, the troops met the Japanese resistance. The Japanese massed all of the available troops and had them in blockhouses, pillboxes and caves guarded by machine guns. The Americans met the resistance with force. Reenforcements were sent to the island for an all-out assault. On April 19, 1945, three American divisions had pushed into the enemy territory. Planes aided the Americans by bombing key targets. Demolition teams and flamethrowers were also assigned to destroy the fortified Japanese hideouts. The Japanese continued to fight on with everything they had. Most of the fighting was centered on Sugar Loaf Hill and Konica Hill. The occupation of these hills was a seesaw battle because they kept changing hands. The Americans finally captured the hills on May 21, 1945. Private Beverage was not with his comrades during the final battle of Sugar Loaf Hill or Konica Hill.<br />
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On May 19, 1945, Private Beverage's platoon was starting to dig in, after battling for the hills all through the day. The fighting had been severe and the men were exhausted. It was Private Beverage's duty on that particular day to establish a forward listening post to keep the Japanese off of the main group during the night. While he was climbing to his position, just before dusk, he was hit by sniper fire, receiving a wound to his left arm. He was evacuated to a hospital in Saipan.<br />
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On June 11, 1945, General Buckner requested the Japanese to surrender. The Japanese refused and on June 22, 1945, Lt. General Mitsui Ushijima, the leader of the Japanese Okinawa forces and Lt. General Isama Cho dressed in their official military uniforms committed suicide. The Japanese were committed to die rather than surrender and the suicide average was about one a minute as Japanese leaped off cliffs, slit their own throats or blew themselves up with grenades. From the Battle of Okinawa the Japanese lost 62,129 soldiers killed. Only 7,871 soldiers were taken prisoners. The losses for the Americans were somewhat less, 12,520 soldiers killed with 36,631 wounded.<br />
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On September 2, 1946, the Japanese Government surrendered on the U.S.S. Missouri anchored in Tokyo Bay. Private Beverage's comrades of Okinawa were assigned the honor guard on the Missouri. He was not able to be present because he was still recuperating from his wound. After being released from the hospital, he was sent to China where he participated in the occupation of China from October 15, 1946 until May 2, 1946.<br />
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While in the Marine Corps, Private Beverage received the following awards: Purple Heart, World War II, China Service Medal, Asiatic Pacific Campaign Medal, Good Conduct Medal and Sharp Shooters Medal.<br />
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Carl was honorably discharged from the Marine Corps on April 6, 1946 and returned to Marlinton, West Virginia.<br />
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Comments: Carl Beverage received his high school diploma on February 26, 2001<br />
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<br />
"The Bridge at Remagen"<br />
<br />
Narrative by Ken Hechler, WWII Historian, War Correspondent and<br />
<br />
Author of The Bridge at Remagen<br />
<br />
July 14, 2001 2:30 p.m.<br />
<br />
Summersville, West Virginia<br />
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Author's note: My initial intent for contacting former Secretary of State Ken Hechler was seeking information on coal mining issues in Appalachia; however, when we began talking I discovered he had served as a WW II War correspondent in the vicinity of the Remagen Bridge at the time the US Military crossed the bridge resulting in an earlier closure to the war. Hechler is the author of the best selling novel, The Bridge at Remagen. My desire to meet Ken Hechler became twofold-obtaining an oral history on coal mine issues in Appalachia and obtaining an important WWII oral history.<br />
<br />
In the spring of 1945 the American and British armies had flattened out the bulge with which the German attackers had penetrated the American lines in their counter attack through the Ardennes.<br />
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Starting in December 16, 1944, as the Allied Forces approached the Rhine River, Adolph Hitler ordered all the bridges blown up to prevent a crossing of this wide river.<br />
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The 9th Armored Division, which had been ordered not to cross the Rhine River but to turn south along the west bank in order to join up with General Patton's Third Army, found a bridge still standing at the little town of Remagen halfway between Cologne and Koblenz. The defending Germans had left this bridge open in order to retreat some of their tanks and big guns to save them from being captured by the Americans.<br />
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On the afternoon of March 7, 1945 a small group of the 27th Armored Infantry Battalion of the 9th Armored Division emerged from the woods, and from the top of a high hill overlooking the Rhine River they observed the bridge still standing, with the Germans retreating across the bridge. The bridge was known as the Ludendorff Bridge after Germany's WWI general. It had been built during WWI. When the French occupied this section of Germany after WWI, they filled the demolition chambers underneath the bridge with cement, making it very difficult to destroy the bridge. The German defenders set up a demolition plan which involved a circuit which could be activated from a tunnel on the east side of the bridge. The bridge was originally designed as a railroad bridge, but it was planked over to allow for vehicular traffic.<br />
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When the head of Combat Command B, General William Hoge, observed that the bridge was still standing, he ordered the 27th Armored Infantry Battalion to go down the hill and attack the town of Remagen prior to possibly crossing the bridge before it was blown up. At the same time, the 14th Tank Battalion of the 9th Armored Division was ordered to proceed to the west side of the bridge after helping to clean out the defenders in the town of Remagen. General Hoge was actually violating his orders, which were to turn south to join up with General Patton's third Army.<br />
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Lt. Karl Timmermann led the first troops across the bridge. Just before they set foot on the bridge, the Germans blew a 30' crater in the approach to prevent tanks from crossing. A young soldier from Rupert, West Virginia, Clemon Knapp, had a tank with a blade in front of it which he called "tank dozer." Under fire, he brought the "tank dozer" forward to fill in the 30' crater.<br />
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Meanwhile, Lt. Hugh Mott and his two sergeants, Eugene Dorland and John Reynolds, climbed underneath the bridge to cut the wires to the German demolitions.<br />
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The Germans had excellent observations of the bridge from the top of a 600' cliff known as the Erpeler Ley. In the German Army, anti-aircraft personnel were under the command of the Air Force, while the major defense of the bridge was under the Infantry Commander, named, Captain Willi Bratge.<br />
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The Air Force decided to replace the unit on top of the Erpeler Ley on March 6, the day before the Americans attack. Captain Bratge ordered the anti-aircraft unit to hurry to the top of the cliff, but the replacement unit refused to take orders from the German Infantry Commander and thus deprived the German defenders of an excellent observation post on top of the Erpeler Ley.<br />
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Just as Lt. Timmermann and his infantry men started to cross the bridge, there was a tremendous explosion as the Germans attempted to destroy the bridge. Both the Americans and Germans later testified that the bridge seemed to lift up from its foundations and then settle back shakily. While it was still shaking, Lt. Timmermann and his men made their precarious way across. Lt. Timmermann of West Point, Nebraska, was the first officer to reach the east coast of the Rhine River and Alex Drabik of Toldeo, Ohio, was the first enlisted man to set foot on the east side of the Rhine.<br />
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Adolph Hitler was infuriated by the successful capture of the Ludendorff Bridge. He was certain it had fallen into American hands because of German treason. He sent an execution squad to single out five German officers for immediate execution. Four of the five were immediately shot to death and the fifth man, Captain Bratge, escaped execution only because the Americans had captured him.<br />
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I returned to Germany after the war and located Captain Bratge, who was teaching mathematics in a small school near the Russian border. He agreed to come back to Remagen, and we spent a full week together as he reviewed, step-by-step, both the German defenses and the sequence of events of May 7, 1945, without which I would not have been able to get a complete story.<br />
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Hitler ordered an all-out attack on the Americans who had crossed the bridge. He sent in jet planes for the first time in the war, and they tried in vain to bomb and destroy the bridge. A group of underwater swimmers armed with explosives tried to destroy the bridge, but they were picked up by very powerful searchlights before they reached their objective. Werner Von Braun, who later became the architect of the American moonlanding, at that time was working for the Nazis and had developed a very powerful guided missile called the V2 which was fired from Holland in an attempt to destroy the bridge. Eleven V-2z landed near the bridge, shaking it like an earthquake.<br />
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The 51st and 291st Engineer Battalions immediately began to build pontoon and treadway bridges on both sides of the weakened railroad bridge.<br />
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This was very fortunate, because on March 17, 1945, the seriously damaged Ludendorff Bridge collapsed into the Rhine River, killing twenty-eight engineers who had been trying to strengthen the bridge.<br />
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The surprise crossing of the Ludendorff Bridge probably saved 5000 American lives that otherwise would have been lost by an assault crossing of the river. In addition, the capture of the bridge helped shorten the war by enabling the Americans to encircle and trap 300,000 Germans east of the Rhine, thereby, causing the war to end earlier on May 8, 1945.<br />
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The capture of the bridge was also a landmark in American initiative and courage in taking advantage of a sudden opportunity which had not been planned.<br />
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I was about ten miles away from the bridge when these electrifying events occurred. Since I was an Army Combat Historian charged with capturing and recording the most important front line events in the war, I immediately went to Remagen to interview all those who were involved. The first troops crossing the bridge were brought back in reserve just about the time we captured a wine cellar, which gave a wonderful opportunity to fill a number of notebooks with on-the-scene comments. I later returned to Germany to interview all the German participants in the action.<br />
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When I first completed the story of "The Bridge at Remagen," it was rejected by five publishers as unsaleable. But in 1957 paperback publisher Ballantine Books decided to publish the book, and it sold 600,000 copies. Hollywood became interested and made a full-length motion picture from the book, starring Robert Vaughan, George Segal, Ben Gazzara and E. G. Marshall. I was the technical advisor for the movie, which was released in 1969. <br />
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Because of the heavy river traffic of coal barges, tourist boats and other ships, the Germans did not allow us to make the movie at Remagen.<br />
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The producer, David Wolper found a similar bridge near Prague, Czechoslovakia at the small town of Davle on the Vltava River. At the cost of $250,000, the movie company, United Artists, blasted a tunnel on the east side of the river. Filming started on June 6, 1968, and the East German press accused us of being CIA agents with our tanks who were supporting the Dubcek regime in Prague, which was more liberal than Moscow wanted it to be.<br />
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On August 21, 1968, the filming was rudely halted by the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia. Produces Wolfer recruited a fleet of taxicabs and the film crew escaped to Vienna, Austria. Filming was then resumed near Hamburg, Germany and near the Pope's summer house, Castelgondolfo, Italy.<br />
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"I was the Gunner in 'Tank Dozer' at Remagen Bridge"<br />
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Oral History Interview with Clemon Knapp, WWII<br />
<br />
Sam Black Church, WV<br />
<br />
July 17, 2002 6:00 pm<br />
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<br />
Author's note: My oral history interview with Ken Hechler led me to Clemon Knapp, West Virginia soldier and gunner in the "tank dozer" which crossed the Remagen Bridge ending WWII early. <br />
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I phoned Hechler a few days after my WWII oral history with him was finalized. I wanted to get more information on Knapp. Hechler told me he was from the Rupert/Lewisburg area in Greenbrier County. I called information and asked for a phone number for Clemon Knapp. Dialed the number given to me and Clemon Knapp answered the phone-the gunner in "tank dozer-more than fifty years after the war.<br />
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We decided to record the oral history interview at his home near Sam Black Church. His house has many mementos of WWII and his SUV displays a vanity tag, "Remagen." <br />
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Do you think about the War often?<br />
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I went down to Bedford, Virginia for the dedication of the War Memorial. There are a lot of things about WWII that I haven't thought about for a while. This year has brought a lot of things back.<br />
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Where are you from?<br />
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I was born at Dawson, West Virginia. We moved from here to there to yonder until we landed in Rupert about 1930 and that is where I spent the most of my life until we moved here.<br />
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When did you go in? How did you feel about going into the service?<br />
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I didn't think too much about going to war when we heard about Pearl Harbor. I didn't think much about it but three months later down the road I was drafted. I was 20 years old at the time they drafted me. I went to the Army when they drafted me. I really wanted to go because that was the big thing to do back them.<br />
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You didn't want to back out. We were more patriotic back then. We thought it was something great going off to war. In 1942 I went in and took basic in Kansas and then to Needles, California in the desert.<br />
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Some thought the war was over when Tunisia took over France. That was about the time of D- Day and they told us we were getting ready to ship out. We missed D-Day; and after I read about it, I was glad we did because that was not a picnic.<br />
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So, we landed shortly after D-Day in July. That was when it started. We went through France and Luxemburg and backed the Germans back to their border. Then we didn't know whether or not we were going to make an offensive attack. They were trying to build up for winter. No one thought we would need an offensive attack. Everybody thought the war would be over by Christmas, but it didn't happen that way. The Germans had something else planned for us. They broke through the lines, and they put on a big offensive battle. They came from Belgium, and they ran over us. If the first group got blocked, Hitler had another group come right up behind them. That went on for about two weeks. It was really tough because it started snowing. It was real cold, and they couldn't get supplies to us. We didn't know whether we were going to get out alive or not.<br />
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Then the 82nd Battalion opened up a road behind us, and we escaped. We lost one or two tanks, but we got out and went back and rebuilt again. That is where we lost our first men in battle-in the Battle of the Bulge in Belgium-that is where we lost our "dozer tank." That is when they put a blade on my tank. It was like a big bull dozer. It had a big blade on it. The reason for the blade on the tank was a lot of times the Germans would put rocks or explosives or logs for a road block. The American would Strife (German vehicles) and the roads would be blocked. That is what the "dozer tanks" were used for to clear the roads. It was a real hindrance for cross-country fighting because you couldn't go across ditches and it became a great hindrance. That was what we thought when we came to the Rhine River. <br />
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We went into the Rhine land and at the Rhine River; that is where the blade came in handy again because the Germans had blown a 30' crater in the approach to the bridge on the ramp of the Bridge at Remagen. It was a railroad bridge and they had a ramp to go up and over, and that is where they blew a big hole up. So we had to start operating on that.<br />
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In the meantime, we crossed mine fields in the road going up to the approach of the bridge, but we didn't explode any of them. The engineers came up behind us and started digging up landmines.<br />
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We went to work filling up the big hole on the bridge at Remagen using the "tank dozer." The rest of the afternoon we spent covering the foot troops going across the bridge because we couldn't take the tanks across until the bridge was repaired. I sat in that tank with planes flying over us dropping bombs. They even had a barge up the river with a machine gun and gunner on it.<br />
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When we took the bridge for the first few hours it was the A Co. 27th Armored Inf. Battalion, 9th Armored Division and one company of tanks, A Co. 14th Tank Battalion 9th Armored Division. We had four big tanks and nine medium tanks left there and that was all we had. When we crossed the bridge, nine medium tanks crossed and the big tanks had to wait for a pontoon ferry to cross the bridge a couple of days later.<br />
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We didn't lose too many men there. I don't think we lost any on that particular day, but we lost some going to the bridge the day we moved up through Remagen. We crossed at midnight with the tanks and not many men were on the other side. I guess the Germans did not have enough to counter attack and push us back. Once we got the tanks across and by the next morning, we were helping the infantry and by daylight Americans started pushing across by hundreds (foot troops) and other vehicles. <br />
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Only nine tanks were left and when we crossed, five turned to the left and four turned to the right and we tried to hold until morning and then when the reinforcements came, lots of them, we went to a little town Erpel-little town across the river from Remagen. We held there from March 7 through March 18, 1945. After we got a lot of reinforcements, we held back and waited because the terrain was not too good for tanks. In ten days the bridge fell and we moved out to the east.<br />
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I was that gunner in the "tank dozer." I was in an iron box. I saw Germany through a periscope or through my gun sights; a telescopic sight. Five of us in the tank, driver, assistant driver; down front, tank commander on top, gunner (me) and radio man who also loaded the gun.<br />
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We were in there all day long, every day, all night long, every night. We lived there. A lot of heavy firing going on around us. We had one boy-he always got real nervous in battle when he had to fire the gun. He eventually had a nervous breakdown, battle shock. I guess when you are young, you don't think about getting killed, but when you see one of your buddies' tanks blown to bits, you only hope it doesn't happen to you. That is where I think my wife and my mother's prayers came in-had the man up above looking out for me.<br />
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We wanted to get a hold of Hitler but on the other hand a lot of German people wanted to get a hold of him. We couldn't trust them but they tried to help us sometimes, the average German. I felt sorry for them. The tough guys were the SS Troops the "Storm Troopers". They were the tough guys, the "Storm Troopers."<br />
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We continued fighting after we turned east. We met the Russians before we got to the Elbe River so we thought we didn't have to fight any more. We thought our part was over because the Russians had already gone through Berlin but it didn't happen that way.<br />
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We pulled back one night, went south and Patton was in the 3rd Army Corp. He was headed toward Czechoslovakia south. We were in the 9th Armored Division. We started spearheading for Patton and we ended up in Czechoslovakia. Then, we came back to Birkenhead, Germany. We thought they would send the whole division back.<br />
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I was one of the first ones of the first group that left out in my outfit to come back to the states. They sent me to Ft. Leonardwood, Missouri, the 8th Infantry outfit-only to find out they were going to send us to Japan. Truman dropped the big bomb (two of them) and the war was over. They sent the gunners out first.<br />
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We didn't really know that crossing the bridge was going to end the war early. We thought the bridge was going to be blown up. The engineers put a big pontoon above and below the bridge and the troops were rolling across from everywhere. After the Americans took the bridge we heard some rumors that Hitler had some of his officers shot. A lot of stuff came up in the Nuremberg trials. We didn't know we were making history by crossing that bridge because we had done other things we felt at the time was more important.<br />
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I went back to Remagen in 1995, 50 years later. It was wonderful. It was so interesting. We all met there, the people that were there before. <br />
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When I went back to the States after being discharged from service, we had tried to locate my Platoon Sgt. but couldn't find him. When I was in Remagen in a motel, the tour guide came and told me someone was looking for me. My son was the only person I could think of that would be looking for me. It was Sgt. Weaver, my Platoon Sgt., his wife and family. We had looked for him everywhere and he turns up here. I found out he had stayed in the Army for twenty-three more years. We thought he was in Ohio but he was in the western end of North Carolina. We had looked and searched for him for years.<br />
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We didn't know the effect of crossing the Bridge at Remagen at the time. The Battle of the Bulge was the hardest fighting I was ever in.<br />
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I have gone to a reunion every year since 1991. I went to one Battalion reunion but mostly a company reunion is what I attend.<br />
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I was the gunner in the "tank dozer" and after they put the blade on and we had a road block, they would say, "Go up front and that was for two years." There may be land mines or anything. <br />
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We got up to eighteen or twenty meeting for the reunion, Weaver passed away.<br />
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The aftermath of the war-I think I put it behind me when I came home. I am still jumpy but I put it in my past and forgot. I came home in 1945 and got a job on a strip mine. <br />
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In the late 1980's we started contacting each other and by 1990-91 we started getting together. I had three or four guys I was in the service with who lived right around here and I worked with some of them but they are gone now. I don't think patriotism is as high as it used to be. <br />
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Young people are just not interested in things like that. I guess I was the same way when I was young.<br />
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Ken Hechler invited me to Huntington for the premier of the movie, "The Bridge at Remagen." It is pretty good. Some of the things were not actual, but the movie made you realize what it was all about.<br />
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I didn't know Ken at the bridge. I didn't know anything about him. He was a war correspondent. He would go out and get the information and write stories. I met him in the sixties when he invited me to Huntington to the premier of the movie. I got his little book and his big book. Ken is a pretty good guy, even if he is in politics.<br />
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Most of my buddies were from Kentucky and West Virginia. (Clemon brought out for me to see a Nazi flag and around the swastika, all the men in the company had signed their names). I caught them in chow line. We didn't all eat the same time. When the kitchen truck came by, we ate. The flag was on a house. Nazi flags were everywhere. The infantry boys had a better chance of picking up things to bring back home. We couldn't jump out of our tanks; we had to wait for them to stop. If you got wounded, you didn't bring anything home. Just like Shorty Rider-he lost his leg, he didn't get to bring anything home.<br />
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I don't know why the U.S. got into the war. I guess we had to. Before I went to the service, I didn't think too much about it why we were fighting. Probably if we hadn't, Hitler would have taken over and Japan. After we helped Russia, they turned on us. They turned around and blocked everything off. We had a fifty-year war with them. There is a lot of things I don't understand about war and our leaders.<br />
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Most of the units that was in the war got a Presidential citation. I got a Silver Star. Roosevelt was President when we first went to war, but he died in May and Truman took over. I thought Truman was too aggressive sometimes, like dropping two bombs (atomic bombs); it wiped out two cities in Japan and killed all of those people and the ones it didn't kill-they are still suffering from diseases.<br />
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I think I was with the best group of boys anybody could have been with. We were together for three years. We got some replacements, lost some in the Battle of the Bulge, but the same company, the same men. I trusted them. We watched out for each other. I think we had the best tank commander, Sgt. Lawrence Swain. He was from Pennsylvania. On the last day of the war, a 14 year old boy, a sniper, shot him. Killed him on the last day of the war.<br />
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They had given us orders not to fire, unless fired upon. So we saw a bunch of boys, just thought they were boys standing around a house but one was upstairs with a riffle and he shot Swain. So Swain didn't get to come back home; some things hurt. <br />
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War is terrible I don't care how you go. I felt so sorry for the women and the children and the animals.<br />
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I don't understand some of our leaders, like Eisenhower during the Battle of the Bulge, he was in Paris getting ready for a wedding. When someone told him the Germans were breaking through, overrunning us, he just said, "It was a little counterattack from Hitler," but Hitler had put everything in it. But the big brass was getting ready for a wedding.<br />
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Bradley was a big commander. In his memos when writing about the Battle of the Bulge, the 4th Infantry was on the front line, the tank division and the 9th Armored Division was all we had on the front line; everyone else had been pulled back for a rest. Hitler had some plans of his own. In Bradley's memos, he didn't even mention the 9th Armored Division and he was over it. He wrote his memos. I read some of them; he didn't even remember the 9th Armored Division, like we didn't even exist. They called us the "Phantom" Division. They had us split up three different ways. We kept popping up everywhere. That is what I am saying about the big commanders and they push young people into service. It is not right.<br />
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I think Roosevelt had a good idea about what was going on, and Eisenhower was supposed to be a good General; some think he was. In the movie on D-Day, Eisenhower meets with all the troops in England, but he didn't go; he went on a big ship later. The big brass was on a big ship watching everyone. The poor troops didn't have anyplace to go. They were just jumping into the water. A lot of them drowned with eighty pound pack backs strapped to them. They were just trying not to get shot. West Virginia had the most men serve, per capita in WWII. Bradley should a have known the men under him.<br />
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When we first came upon the Bridge at Remagen, my tank went underneath the bridge to the right and that is where all the German anti-craft were meeting; five were there; three were manned tanks; my tank commander, gave me the range and I started picking them off; the anti-craft. I picked off five on the first round and the rest of them scattered. That is where I got my Silver Star. That was when I was with Corp. Fred Lovely; he was my loader, my gun loader. His tank had been knocked out the day before, so he was with me. Shortly after that was when we went upon the ramp of the Bridge at Remagen and started filling in the crater with dirt from the ramp, and the foot troops went across and later that night the tanks went across.<br />
<br />
When we went back to Remagen in 1995, the civilians were nice to us. Actually the German people were glad we stopped the war. A lot of the people had turned against Hitler, but they were afraid of the big SS Troops; the "Storm Troopers" would just pick them off.<br />
<br />
Some of the Germans wanted to help us while we were fighting. They didn't try to hide from us; they would open their door if the gunners were not there. We couldn't talk to them very much because we couldn't speak German, but we made a lot of sign language. We couldn't trust them though because we were in their territory.<br />
<br />
When I was drafted, I didn't think I would pass because I had lost my voice when I was thirteen. I couldn't talk above a whisper, but I passed with flying colors. I was worried the doctor would think I was trying to keep out of the Army, so I was glad when they passed me.<br />
<br />
After my basic training they sent me for treatments with a Dr. Koon and then a Dr. Wolf in Topeka, Kansas for three months. After my treatments, I started talking. In the meantime my company had moved to California. When my treatments were finished, they sent me to California to reunite with my company.<br />
<br />
We had desert training in tanks. We would go out and see how many miles we could cover. We made a 500 mile trip in tanks in the desert out in the middle of nowhere, just sand and it would get cold at night, real cold; you needed a blanket but it was very hot in the day.<br />
<br />
I only got hit once with big guns; they clipped two spare Bogie wheels off.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I left "tank dozer" in Burgkunstadt, Germany in July, 1945.<br />
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<br />
"Blood Ran in the Streets"<br />
<br />
The Invasion of France<br />
<br />
Oral History Interview with Harlan Fraker<br />
<br />
77 year old WWII Veteran, WV Coal miner<br />
<br />
July 1, 2001 12:20 pm<br />
<br />
Harlan Fraker on Cabin Creek <br />
<br />
I was invited to Cabin Creek, West Virginia by former Secretary of the State of West Virginia, Dr. Ken Heckler. When I arrived at the gathering which was being recorded by National Geographic and another documentary crew filming mountaintop removal, I was warmly greeted by Harlan Fraker, "Honey, what is someone like you doing on Cabin Creek?" <br />
<br />
I told him I was looking for oral histories from West Virginia coal miners and Veterans for my website: www.AppalachianPower.com. He told me, "honey," I have done it all; coal miner and veteran.<br />
<br />
Harlan Fraker: I was in the Invasion of France. I was just a young boy. I had never seen no ocean. I didn’t know what no ocean was. I was in WW II. I got three bronze stars from the Invasion of North African, the Invasion of Sicily in Italy and the Invasion of France. I was just a young boy and then I came back here and worked in the mines twenty four years. So, Honey I have done it all.<br />
<br />
This is a great story, can I record it?<br />
<br />
"Record it? I ain’t never done anything like this before. I guess so."<br />
<br />
When I was six years old, I had to get up every morning and milk the cows, feed the hogs and walk a mile to school, that was when I was six years old. Well, a man came along when I got to be fifteen years old and he said, “Son, you are a good worker and everything, I want you to go work in timber for me.” And that was pulling a crosscut saw from daylight to dark. We didn’t have a chainsaw back then. That was pulling a crosscut from daylight to dark for a dollar and half a day. I swear to God.<br />
<br />
Well, my aunt said, “Come out here to Ohio, (I was seventeen then), and we will get you a job." I wasn’t eighteen years old and I couldn’t get a job in the plant, so I had to get a job in the laundry and that was twenty five cents a hour. That was what I made in laundry.<br />
<br />
So, I got a letter from Uncle Sam that said, “WE NEED YOU BOY," "UNCLE SAM WANTS YOU." <br />
<br />
I said, “Lord, have mercy." I ain’t been out of West Virginia just up to Akron, Ohio. I said, “I don’t know nothing about the Service."<br />
<br />
They said, “What do you want Marines, Army or Navy?”<br />
<br />
I said, “Well, I will take the Navy.” I took my boot camp at Great Lakes, Illinois,<br />
<br />
“Have you ever been there?” I took my boot camp there. They sent me to gunnery school. I was in the gunnery and I went to Gulf Port, Miss. to learn all about guns and 5/8 and 38s and all that stuff and from there they said, "You are going to catch a ship out of Savannah, Georgia." I caught a ship out of Savannah, Georgia and we went to Casablanca. When we got there-before we got there-we got sunk. A German torpedo hit us and I got sunk. I had to stay there-I don’t know-six months, I think, I stayed in Morocco, Casablanca.<br />
<br />
I come back, I thought well my invasion days are over because I had done went through the Invasion of North Africa and Casablanca and I had a ship sunk out from under me. I thought they are going to put me, you know, back here to tell all these other boys what happened and what to do and everything.<br />
<br />
No, I had to catch another shock, SSM Sheridan out of Savannah. Yep, caught it and I went to (made three or four trips over there) I went to Murmansk, Russia. That was the coldest place I have ever seen. We had one of these big mallie engines strapped on top of the ship, big mallie engine, took it over there and they dumped it in the water. The crane broke. They dumped it in the water and the damn crane broke.<br />
<br />
Well, it took them two weeks to get more cranes in there to put this mallie engine in there and their track was ten inches wider than ours and it wouldn’t work. We had done hauled that thing.... and then for this to happen.<br />
<br />
The durn sixth day of June, Oh, Oh, Oh, I will never forget that day as long as I live. The sixth day of June, I was nineteen years old and we went in the Invasion of France. We lost about 5,020 men in about twenty minutes.<br />
<br />
I said, “Oh Lord," I got down on my knees and I said, “God, if there is a God, just help me!” I had never prayed before.<br />
<br />
I didn’t know God or nothing but let me tell you something, I looked at my buddy and he didn’t have no head. I went to comb my hair and brains was in my hair. (I am telling you this, I don’t tell this to nobody) but it is like a big dream to me anymore.<br />
<br />
He was an ole boy by the name of Grimes, he was from Tennessee, he said, “Harlan, when I get back home, he lived on a farm or something. He said, “When I get back home, I am going to find the biggest cow pile there and I am going to take my shoes off and step in that until it squirts between my toes," but he didn’t make it. He didn't make it. You had a friend one day. You didn’t have a friend the next day.<br />
<br />
I had to bury men.... I had to bury men, buried over 5,000 in about three days. They got their markers out there now, I didn't know how they did this, but we was diggin’ ditches and pourin’ em there. Take the dog tags off of them and pour in this ditch and now they got markers all over France, grave markers and everything.<br />
<br />
They tell them, the families, they are sending their boys back home. They didn’t send them boys back home. They sent a coffin back home. We buried them in a big ditch. We had a big ditch and bulldozed over. We just had a big ditch. We throwed the Germans, the Italians, everybody in there, in the same ditch and covered them over with a big bulldozer. You couldn’t pick out one-now, the people here-they think, when they say, “Oh, we are going to send the body back," all they do is send the coffin back. You know, to make the family feel good. They are still over there.<br />
<br />
I get over there in England, I didn’t know their money or nothing. You see they count their money by twenty cents and we count by twenty five. Well, a Shilling is twenty cents, just like our quarter is twenty five. A pound note is like our five dollars but it is only worth four dollars. A pound note, they count in fours instead of fives.<br />
<br />
North African, la mercy, I seen women, you know how the cobble bricks streets are? "You ain’t never seen them, have you, darling?" These cobble bricks, our horses went by and done their business in the streets, and these women was out there in their aprons picking up corn to eat out of that horse dung. They was hungry, honey, they was hungry. You would not believe it. These women was out picking that corn up and hiding in their aprons for something to eat. You don’t know what hungry is.<br />
<br />
Then I come back home. I couldn’t settle down, I still had the war on my mind. I couldn’t settle down. I went around four or five years. I couldn’t hold a job. My mind was tore up. I just couldn’t focus. Then finally I did, I got to where I could hold down a job, I worked for twenty four years in the mine.<br />
<br />
I had a lot of little ole girlfriends in New Castle, England, Liverpool. Well, I was just nineteen. Them girls was just fourteen. Fourteen years old, back then, was a grown woman. I had a lot of girlfriends<br />
<br />
I want to go back. I would love to go over there to Casablanca and North African. I would love to go back. I know everything has changed now but I would love to go back and put my foot on the ground that I walked on when I was nineteen. And Sicily, I would love to put my feet on the ground there in Sicily where I went for the Invasion of France.<br />
<br />
I would love to put me feet in Normandy Invasion. That morning I will never forget, Lord, the only thing I ever knew was get out here and shoot squirrels or something, I didn’t know they was going to shoot back at me. I didn't know men was going to shoot back at me. You talk to one boy one minute and the next he was gone. I was feeding a twenty millimeter and my buddy was running the twenty millimeter. I looked around and he wouldn’t shootin' anymore. He stopped shootin'. He didn’t have no, he didn’t have no head and I when I saw that, I said, “Lord, Lord, have mercy. Mommy, Mommy, where are you?"<br />
<br />
I wished I was back there eatin some cornbread and beans and some taters. I was just a young boy. Hell, I didn’t know. I didn't know what life was all about. Well, I had trained there in Gulfport, Mississippi, Biloxi. "Have you ever been there?" I trained there. I didn’t know. (I am telling you this sweetheart and I don’t ever tell nobody, nothing). We got sunk there in the English Channel. We struck a mine there in the English Channel going in there in the Invasion of France. Sunk that ship. It all seems like a dream anymore. We had men stacked up high as a two story building, blood running down the street. Blood ran in the streets just like water in a creek. Shooo... Taking dog tags off each one of them, you got so you didn’t care, you knowed good and well you are next. I pulled through it. I don’t know how but I said, “God," I said, “If there is a God up there?" I said, I want to know who He is.” I said, “I don’t want no twixt and tweens, I want to talk to the Main Man."<br />
<br />
I was desperate. I said, "I want to talk to the Main Man." I believe he brought me through. I do. The Main Man brought me through.<br />
<br />
Come back home, I couldn’t hold a job, my nerves was all broke, tore up. I couldn’t hold a job. My Daddy would say, “Go out and get you a job.”<br />
<br />
I would get a job but I couldn’t hold it. My mind was so tore up and finally I did settle down and I worked twenty four years in the coal mines here in Cabin Creek, West Virginia, right at the foot of this hill where we are today. Where you came to today. I went in the mines there. I worked underground. I run the shuttlecar, I could run anything they had. I ran the continuous miner.<br />
<br />
Harlan, what are all of your medals?<br />
<br />
I shot down two German planes. I shot down two German planes. They was Straffins. They called them Straffins. I don’t know if you know what I am talking about. I got two Bronze Stars for that. Then, I got a Bronze Star for going in the Invasion of North African. Everything is on my record out there in Washington D.C. I have been through Hell. I am seventy seven years old, honey and I see these young boys, I can remember the time when I pulled a crosscut for $1.50 a day and all I got was cornbread and beans and taters.<br />
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<br />
"Even the Sinners Pray Up There" <br />
<br />
Don Summers, WWII<br />
<br />
"Even the Sinners Pray Up There"<br />
<br />
Oral History Interview with Don Summers, WWII Veteran<br />
<br />
Memorial Day May 27, 2002<br />
<br />
Summersville, West Virginia<br />
<br />
Don Summers letter to his mother written May 18, 1945, from the front lines<br />
<br />
Author's note: Before we got started on Don's oral history, he brought out his helmet shell (the steel helmet had been lost during battle) showing me where the bullet went in the helmet while on his head, right above the left ear, splitting the leather strap in half; the bullet came out in the back of the helmet. The bullet singed his hair and that was the extent of the damage. Don says, "God spared me for a reason." He also showed me the Japanese Flag, his medals and Japanese bayonet.<br />
<br />
Don Summers and his wife, Loretta, are life-long residents of Appalachia. Retired, now they devote their lives to the church and civic activities. <br />
<br />
Did you like the Veterans' ceremony today?<br />
<br />
"Yes, the Veterans ceremony was nice, didn't you think so?" Don asked me. Now we hold it at the Memorial Park. It is sponsored by the VFW. The reason for the ceremony is to remember the fallen comrades of all wars who have died to preserve our freedom.<br />
<br />
What about the President going to Normandy for today's events?<br />
<br />
That was nice-and if we could all talk like him-but he has writers. So, really all he has to do is read what someone else has written for him.<br />
<br />
What does a Memorial Day Ceremony mean to you?<br />
<br />
It makes me feel proud to be an American and live in a free country and be able to take part to honor those heroes that gave their lives in all wars.<br />
<br />
What about the young people of today, their feelings toward patriotism?<br />
<br />
I believe young people, if called, would answer the call to serve their country. The war now is so technical that with the modern planes and rockets and weapons different clothing, ships, etc., you need people who are trained to do those things. It is more mechanized.<br />
<br />
The Greatest Generation, what does that term mean to you?<br />
<br />
Tom Brokaw wrote a book on that and I read it. It was good. It means patriotism and serving and men giving their lives for freedom. I believe the earlier men were more patriotic than the present day youth. One reason, drugs are so prevalent, alcohol and tobacco-drugs more than anything and the pornography on television perverts their minds, takes away their patriotism.<br />
<br />
What about your service to our Country and isn't this Memorial Day, the perfect day to get your story?<br />
<br />
I was raised at Drennen, West Virginia on a farm. Graduated from Nicholas County High School and graduated from Charleston School of Commerce. My mother was a Samples and I had eight brothers and sisters. My dad was a farmer and stock man, raised and sold cattle and sheep and farmed. Earlier in life he worked for the department of highways. None of my family worked in the coal mines. They worked at Alloy Plant, Kraft Food, Monsanto, commercial jobs.<br />
<br />
I was drafted in the US Army in 1944 after graduation from high school. I graduated in the spring of 1944 and worked in a defense plant, US Rubber Plant at Institute, WV and then I was called up in September of 1944 when I was eighteen years old. I had not been out of the state. I was wild and wooly. All three of my brothers were already in when I went. Being the youngest, I was the last to go.<br />
<br />
My brother told me, "You have hunted a lot, so, remember how to shoot and where to shoot (squirrel hunted) and try to bring that skill with you when you engage the enemy." I wanted to go. I felt I had health enough to go. I was anxious for the adventure.<br />
<br />
What were your parents' feelings about sending the fourth son into battle?<br />
<br />
My parents had a flag in the window of our home with four blue stars in it. One star for each son serving. That was traditional, to hang a flag in the window of your home when you had sons in the war. Hanging in the window, a flag. Blue stars for living service men; silver stars if you had a son wounded and gold if you had a fatality. So, my parents had a flag in the window with four blue stars.<br />
<br />
My parents accepted I would go, but they had a heavy heart. I went by bus to Huntington, WV and when I started to board the train I was so enthusiastic or excited I ran into a huge column and bounced back getting on the train. I looked around to see if anyone saw me, then I got on the train and went to Camp Atterbury, Indiana and for further processing for two weeks.<br />
<br />
Then I was shipped to my basic training center at Little Rock, Ark., Camp Robinson. There I had basic training for six weeks. I didn't like basic training because we had twenty mile hikes and cold barracks and about twenty soldiers to a barrack.<br />
<br />
Were there many different races serving with you?<br />
<br />
In WWII we were segregated. The blacks were not with the whites. The blacks had their own companies. The blacks were the truck drivers and supply people more than whites. They had their own barracks, camps and platoons. This was under FD Roosevelt.<br />
<br />
What was basic training like, was it very difficult?<br />
<br />
We had good food, good hygiene and good instructors in basic training. We had regular hours and we were in tip-top shape. I made friends there but they were only temporary friends during basic training. After basic I was granted a furlough to come home. My three brothers serving were Arthur in Germany, Joe Bill in the South Pacific in the Navy and Junior in Ft. Hood Texas at a German POW. He was guarding German prisoners of war they brought over here. They brought the Germans over here to the United States. England had some POWs and Russia killed some of their POWs, France had some. The Allied countries were fighting the Axis. They were fighting the Axis, Japan and Germany. Junior had nerve problems to a certain extent related to his duty guarding the German POWs.<br />
<br />
I was home for two weeks and then I was shipped overseas as an infantry replacement. We debarked from Monterey, Calif. under the Golden Gate Bridge and it took us thirty days to land in Leyte Island, Philippine Island. I was on the SS Steamship Butner. We had to zigzag crossing the Pacific to escape Japanese torpedoes.<br />
<br />
You always think when you go in a danger zone or war zone, I am the one who is going to come back. I am going and I am going to come back. We didn't see any action on Leyte but plenty of mosquitoes and banana trees. We slept in canvas tents with nets all around our cots. No covers. It was extremely hot in the Philippines. We had to have those nets or we would get eaten up with the mosquitoes. We were there for six weeks, then, we went to Luzon, Philippine Islands. (He showed me a picture of the men in Basic Training in Little Rock, 250 men in our battalion. He pointed to himself in the center of the photo.)<br />
<br />
We were allowed to write V-mail (Victory Mail). It was free, no postage. Some of the things in the letters were censored. It was blacked out if we put in a letter any secrets like where we were, etc. It was censored.<br />
<br />
I was single, foot-loose and fancy free (I asked Don if he had any letters from the war), his wife, sitting nearby said, "I didn't know him then, I grew up in a coal camp in Raleigh County." Our schools were segregated. We had one black girl and they bused her all the way to Beckley to go to school."<br />
<br />
We were in Luzon. We were in Baung LUnion (that was like a county in the US) in San Fernando Valley (they had a San Fernando Valley like the US). The entire battalion was there, the 33rd Infantry Division (250 men).<br />
<br />
Then we got our orders to go into action against the Japanese Imperial Army in Northern Luzon. These were remnants of Japanese General Yamashita. Remnants of his Army that were holed up in the mountains in and around Baguio. The weather was warm in the winter and hot in the summer. It is more towards the equator. We were taken in Army trucks at night up the Kennon Road to Baguio. That is where I first saw action against the Japanese. I was eighteen years old. Our job was routing them out of their foxholes, caves and picking them off the top of the mountains.<br />
<br />
Our first job was to advance up the hill and DESTROY the enemy, the Japs. Now, (he showed me his helmet which was only a hard plastic liner) I was going up a hill (my first time out) I lost my steel helmet, the one that can protect your head from bullets. I can't remember exactly what happened that I lost the steel part of my helmet, but I think it was knocked off my head and rolled down a steep hill. It was dark and I was afraid to leave the company and go down and get it. So, all I had to wear was the plastic liner.<br />
<br />
When we climbed to the top of the hill occupied by the Japs, they opened fire on our company, shooting rapidly at all of us. We took cover behind trees and rocks and began returning the fire. My gun was a M1 30 caliber automatic rifle. I could shoot eight times straight. The clip held eight shots.<br />
<br />
We were shooting at each other, open fire-the Japs and the Americans. The Japs were shooting down hill. They were entrenched. We were pelting them with grenades and returning their fire. Our field artillery had their big guns lobbing mortar fire on the enemy's position.<br />
<br />
I stuck my head up at the wrong time and a Jap sniper took a shot at me and hit my helmet. (He picked up the helmet from the table and had me feel where the leather strap was split in half from the bullet). The liner deflected the bullet. It went in (if you have the helmet on) it went in on the left side and came out in the back, right up over the left ear splitting the leather liner. It didn't touch me only singeing and parting my hair.<br />
<br />
I know that God spared my life for some reason at this time and as a result, I was baptized, by immersion, by our army chaplain in one of the ponds of Luzon.<br />
<br />
We were squatted down behind rocks and trees and down in low places during the battle. My buddies thought I was lucky not to be wounded or killed. We were lucky during that battle not to be wounded or killed. We kept up the attack until reinforcement came in. We fought until we overcame their position.<br />
<br />
When we were sure we the battle was over, we went up the hill. We found all the Japanese soldiers dead. They would not surrender.<br />
<br />
We had to kill them all for victory. It was the Japanese Orders not to be taken prisoner but fight to their death to honor their emperor Hiro Hito. The Japanese believed to die in action you were assured of going to Japanese Paradise.<br />
<br />
The Japs were on every hill. In this one place where I was shot they must have been at least a dozen in one place we found in a mopping up exercise of one of the hills. Then we had to go over and do the same thing on another hill. This engagement lasted three or four weeks until we were satisfied that there was no enemy left.<br />
<br />
We were trucked back to our base camp near Manila, the Capitol of the Philippines. By this time, when we returned, the war was close to the end.<br />
<br />
I witnessed General Tomiyuki. Yamashita's surrender. I saw him being brought down out of the hills in an American jeep as an American Prisoner of War. He cooperated after we got the upper hand. He cooperated after the Japanese were subdued-beaten back. Did you know he was a graduate of Harvard University and spoke fluent English? Yes, we educated him here in our country. When he was finally surrounded by American troops, he walked forward and surrendered the remaining forces that he was with on the mountain. Just his top aids, about 100 of his advisors. Following his surrender he was very meek and very cooperative and agreed to an unconditional surrender.<br />
<br />
Now, General Tomiyki Yamashita was a very poplar Japanese General. The Army had tribunals and he was tried for war crimes and he was hung by the American Army.<br />
<br />
Our 33rd Division was told that we were to invade Japanese in November of 1945. We were to be the lead division to invade Fortress, Japan. Our division to was ordered lead the attack.<br />
<br />
It was a fortress, the Japanese civilians were all told we were cannibals and rapists and heathens. Every woman, child and available man would resist our invasion and fight to their deaths to save their country. Luckily the atomic bomb saved that invasion. <br />
<br />
Harry Truman called for the surrender of Japan. They refused to surrender. That was when Pres. Truman authorized the atomic bombing of Hiroshima.<br />
<br />
They still would not surrender and they sent negotiators to Russia to formulate a conditional surrender with the United States. But the United States would not go along with anything except unconditional surrender.<br />
<br />
The conditional surrender, the way I understand it, was that we would pull out our Forces from the Philippines, Okinawa and allow the Axis forces to continue their invasion of the Far East countries east in their quest for oil.<br />
<br />
That is the reason the war started. It started over oil. They wanted to continue their quest in the far East to gain oil and raw materials for their countries. Just Japan, they were the ones that wanted to further their quest for fishing rights and oil and food, and they wanted us to hold them harmless of any war crimes.<br />
<br />
In 1942 Gen. Jimmy Doolittle took off from the USS Hornet with 16-B-25 bombers. His purpose was to bomb Toyko and land in China and Burma. The bombers were flying 1500 feet high. All planes were destroyed and the Americans were killed or taken prisoners by the Japanese, except one which diverted to Vladivostok, Russia.<br />
<br />
The US said, "No, we demand unconditional surrender." And after they rejected our second offer President Truman authorized the atomic bombing of Nagasaki, Japan. The second bombing dropped on August 9, 1945. They thought we were bluffing with the Atomic bombs. One of the big sayings back them was, "Give'em Hell, Harry." <br />
<br />
I remember the war correspondent in the South Pacific during that time. It was Ernie Pyle. He was killed by the Japanese Army in the front lines covering a story near the end of the war. The magazines were filled with war stories, like Life, Saturday Evening Post, Time. And Don's wife told me, "Ernie Pyles' death was covered by those magazines." Those stories were plastered all over those magazines and lots of pictures. The service men had the newspaper called, "The Stars and Stripes."<br />
<br />
Hiroshima, August 6, 1945, just three days between bombings. Of the thousands that were killed by the atomic bomb would not have been a comparison of the 100s of thousands that would have been killed had we invaded Japan.<br />
<br />
If we had not dropped the atomic bomb, we were going to invade Japan and that would have been the lost of thousands of life of American and Japanese, if we had not dropped the atomic bomb. That was a life saving event. A lot of people now are saying, "Oh, we should not have dropped the Atomic bomb," but they aren't thinking about the consequences if we had not dropped the bomb.<br />
<br />
Then the surrender. It came in Tokyo Bay. The signing of the surrender took place on September 2, 1945 on board the USS Missouri. Gen. Douglas McArthur and Japanese Gen. Tomiyki Yamshita. Of course they didn't want to sign but they were forced to or we would have dropped another bomb.<br />
<br />
On August 6, 1945, Col. Paul Tibbets took off from Tinian Island flying a B-29 bomber nicknamed, "The Enola-Gay", loaded with the first atomic bomb, bound for Hiroshima, Japan. President Truman gave his approval to use the weapon against Japan. One minute after explosion it killed 66,000 Japanese. On August 9, 1945 Major Charles Sweeney dropped the 2nd automatic bomb on Nagasaki killing 39,000.<br />
<br />
After the signing of the unconditional surrender by the Japanese, then the American Forces went in to occupy Japan to form a democracy and rebuild their infrastructure and the cities that had been bombed. This was all under Gen. Douglas McArthur.<br />
<br />
I first landed in Japan on the beach at Yokahama with no resistance. They were very apprehensive at first. But after the Japanese learned we were civilized, we enjoyed their cooperation. The government of Japan and people of Japan were very co-operative with the American soldier-and showed no resistance. At this time, Japan was a very poor country because they had lost so many soldiers and had lost so many ships and planes during the war and their industries were completely bombed out. They had to start from ground zero. They had to start rebuilding with the help of the American soldier.<br />
<br />
I was assigned to the Quartermaster section of 8th Army in Yokahama, Japan to account for all of the inventory remaining in Japan, their houses, guns, ammunition, ships, planes and even number of people there.<br />
<br />
I stayed in Japan until I was sent back to the States in November 1946. I was in occupational forces in Japan about one year.<br />
<br />
I was given my release in November, 1946 to return stateside. While in Japan we would visit large cities like Tokyo and Osaka and for recreation we would go to Japanese Cabarets and the Japanese Cabarets would have taxi dancers for the American GIs. (Don opened the box containing souvenirs and showed me a picture taken of him and a taxi dancer).<br />
<br />
The GIs would give the taxi dancer a ticket for each dance; then the girls would cash these tickets in at the close of the dance for cash. I was overseas for eighteen months and came back and received an honorable discharge and went to college under the GI Bill of Rights. I was discharged at Ft. Sam Houston at Antonio, Texas as a Technician 5th grade rank T5.<br />
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"War is Hell"<br />
<br />
Narrative by Hearold Taylor, Korean War Veteran<br />
<br />
February, 2001<br />
<br />
Canvas, West Virginia<br />
<br />
Statement by Hearold Taylor: Here is a short statement of my tour in the United States Marine Corps.<br />
<br />
I went to Canvas Grade School and I started to high school at (Old Main) at Summersville, West Virginia. I quit at the start of my second year and volunteered in the Marine Corps. I took my basic training at Paris Island, S.C.; then on to training at Camp Lejune, North Carolina, then on to Camp Pendleton, California. I was assigned to the 3rd Marine Division to a fourteen month tour in the Far East. I was in the Far East at the age of seventeen.<br />
<br />
I was also stationed at Okinawa during the latter part of 1952-53. This was following WWII and I witnessed some of the aftermath of that war.<br />
<br />
This is where the Japanese were during WWII. There were holes dug out in the mountains and skeletons of Japanese soldiers were still in the holes. The soldiers had been killed with flame-throwers and the remains were still there and so were the machine guns. The skeletons were black where they had been burned.<br />
<br />
There was a memorial on a cliff for the Japanese and bones were piled up around the Memorial.<br />
<br />
"War is Hell."<br />
<br />
Comments: Hearold participated in Nicholas County's first veterans' high school graduation ceremony, receiving his high school diploma on February 26, 2001<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Good Morning Vietnam"<br />
<br />
Oral History Interview with Flavie Hugh Ellison II, Vietnam War Veteran<br />
<br />
March 13, 2002 10:30 a.m.<br />
<br />
Summersville, West Virginia<br />
<br />
What are some of the lasting effects of fighting a war, in your opinion?<br />
<br />
I used to be a big hunter but I don't even own a gun now, I have got deer and rabbits running all over my property and I can't even shoot one, because I was in a war. I was in the Vietnam War. I don't own a gun. I saw so much killing. I got a five gallon bucket of rocks I throw at rabbits and deer because I can't shoot anything. I can't do it. No war movies. I can't watch any war movies or any movies where people get killed. I just can't do it. When I was young, I watched all those vampire movies and everything but after the war, I can't do it.<br />
<br />
Now about half the guys over there, you know, I remember all their faces, but not their names. All the guys had nicknames and mine was "Crazy L" (L was for Ellison).<br />
<br />
A good friend of mine that was over there-I haven't got a hold of since then. His grandmother was still on the reservation I think, Okalahoma. She was full-bloodied Cherokee, and his nickname was "Fast Eddie." Damn, all those memories.<br />
<br />
What was it like growing up for you?<br />
<br />
See, my parents died when I was young and I walked to grade school. It was back in those days when there were no buses for grade schools kids. I walked three miles one way to school. It was a two room school and the last half of my eighth grade year, I was the only one in the eighth grade. "Talkin' small." Yeah, I was the only eighth grade student. The other family moved away. There was two of us at the beginning of the year and they moved down south, so that left me the only one in the eighth grade.<br />
<br />
How did you parents die?<br />
<br />
My Dad-a car ran over my Dad. Three years later, my Mom died of cancer. I may have been ten at that time. I lived with my one grandmother on and off for awhile. There were seven of us kids. My one aunt, mom's sister up in Ohio, took the three youngest, my oldest sister and my oldest brother were on their own. The other aunt took my other brother just out on Cranberry Road in Craigsville. My grandmother took me. I had to cut the grass, work in the garden. They didn't like for me to go anywhere, and she was raising another child who had living parents.<br />
<br />
Grandma Bessie was getting some kind of check for me, but I never did see any of it. I worked in the hay field for Wade Bailey and Paul Cooper for fifty cents per hour. Then finally, things just kept getting worse where I was staying with my grandmother. I just took off. My senior year in high school-do you know where Curtin Bridge is, between Craigsville and Richwood? I lived down there. I gathered up an old blanket and a pillow from somewhere and I slept out in the middle of a river on a flat rock. I ate a lot of fish. I fished every evening and every night. I was a senior in high school. See, that is why I didn't graduate, things just got to the point where I couldn't buy my cap and gown and stuff, the last two or three weeks I didn't go. Half the kids didn't go. We weren't doing anything and I already had my report card but they wouldn't let me graduate. They said I dropped out which was a crock. I just didn't go the last two or three weeks, and when I went up there for graduation they wouldn't let me in.<br />
<br />
Shortly after that, I was, I think about nineteen, see I already had two older brothers in the Service and I was tired of not having anything, Hell, I thought I will just join the Army. I couldn't pass the physical because of the rheumatic fever I had when I was five and six years old. I was in the first grade that is why I had to pull two years of the first grade. I didn't go to school enough.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I went up to Ohio, I had aunts and uncles and relatives, I figured Hell, I will just go up there and get a job and I did. That would have been in '62 or '63. I worked up there a couple of years, then I figured well, Hell, I will just go and join the Army. I failed again. The same thing. So then I went to Southern California, Pasadena; my oldest sister was out there. I went to work out there and I lived with them awhile until I got me enough money gathered up to rent my own place.<br />
<br />
Well, it was out in the Sierra Madre Canyon, a beautiful area, at that time after I lived there awhile. I had five or six vehicles. I had license on every one of them and the last day of December in '65 I bought a brand new motorcycles; I always loved motorcycles. It was an English Bike, 750 Norton and I just had a good time. I got in a little bit of trouble with the law, something they call "hit and run," but the guy hit me. He was on a 125 Honda.<br />
<br />
I still remember his name and where he was from. His name was Abraham A.... and he was from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and he was 41 and weighed 220 lbs. He looked like a monkey on a football. A big guy on a little cycle like that. He went clear over my car. He hit my front fender. I had a '51 Ford convertible and he went over my car slid down the street. I jumped out and ran down there. The traffic was swerving trying to miss him. He knocked one of his shoes off. I am trying to get him up and out of the road and he took off up the street running, screaming that he couldn't walk, he couldn't walk. I could get a hold of him but he wouldn't stop I couldn't hold him back. I chased him about five blocks and I walked back down the street. The law was there and the ambulance. They wanted to know where the guy was. They didn't arrest me but they put me in the car and we drove down the street. So we went door to door looking for this guy; somebody got him stopped had him stretched out on the bed in there. He was screaming, crying; he was in bad shape.<br />
<br />
The cops said if I would sign papers covering his motorcycle, ambulance bill and hospital bill and give him a $100.00 per week, they would not press charges. I paid for the motorcycle and the ambulance. They told me he would only be off work a week. So, at the end of the week I went down to where he was staying. He was still on the bed. He said he would have to be off another week. That went on five weeks.<br />
<br />
I went down there to pay him at the end of the fifth week and the neighbors came out and said, "Man, don't you know what is going on?"<br />
<br />
I said, "What are you talking about?"<br />
<br />
They said that guy is a con artist. He had a '66 Cadillac convertible. His wife had a 66 Buick convertible and the three weeks I had been paying, he was off on vacation from the post office. He delivered mail on foot. So, I quit paying him. I just quit paying him. Two or three weeks went by and the law came up to where I worked about the middle of the week. They told me they would give me till Friday to come up with the rest of the guy's money.<br />
<br />
Friday was payday and I realized I had been taken all that time for my money, so I said, "You know I am not going to pay that."<br />
<br />
I sold my '51 Ford convertible to my oldest brother who lived out there and I sold my '33 Ford pickup truck and my other vehicles I just left the key in the switch, the registration up over the sun visor and left them in the parking lot and I jumped on a motorcycle and headed for West Virginia. That was July 22, 1966.<br />
<br />
That was a fun trip. So I came to Craigsville where I was born and raised. I fooled around there for awhile. I remember I got there on Sunday. I left California on Friday evening and I was in Craigsville on Sunday-2650 miles. Wednesday I figured I will just go to Florida. I had an older first cousin that lived down there so I went down. I got there about 10 a.m.; she was starting to fix dinner so I stayed and had dinner and I drank some coffee with Junior and jumped on my bike and headed for New York.<br />
<br />
I had been up there before. I had worked up there. I spent the night up there and I started back to California and I got to some little one horse- town in Texas and changed my mind and came back to West Virginia.<br />
<br />
I was in West Virginia for awhile then I wound up in Ohio. Beautiful country, a wide stop in the road. That was where I was working when I got drafted.<br />
<br />
You were drafted after failing the physical two times?<br />
<br />
I stopped at a little post office every evening to get my mail. I got a long white envelope (about the last part of June, 1968) that said "Greetings, Uncle Sam Wants You!"<br />
<br />
I had two weeks or so. I had to go to Cleveland about 100 miles to take the examination and in those days that took all day. At the end of the day, I realized I had done passed that physical and I just asked him, "Man, you know what is going on?"<br />
<br />
He said, "You call me sir" and I said, "I am not in the Army yet," and he said, "You will be."<br />
<br />
So, I asked him how could that be; I took two of these examinations before and failed both of them so he looked in my records and found my name and he said, "I see you tried to enlist."<br />
<br />
"You have passed this one, we are making exceptions. You have been drafted."<br />
<br />
Where did you go for Basic Training?<br />
<br />
Ft. Knox, Kentucky, that is where I went for Basic Training. That was eight weeks. Graduation was on Friday and on Monday morning I was to report for AIT (Advanced Individual Training) at Ft. Polk. Louisiana. That was nine weeks. I have a picture of me standing in front of a sign which reads: Ft. Polk. Louisiana, Birthplace of Combat Infantrymen for Vietnam. I guess I lost the picture in the fire. It took everything I had, all my clothes, my woodworking shop, nearly everything I owned that is how I lost one half of my ear. (He asked me, "Did you notice one half of my right ear is gone?") He showed me his ear.<br />
<br />
I had two weeks time from graduation at Ft. Polk to be at the Seattle, Tacoma Airport in Washington State. I was going to Vietnam.<br />
<br />
What type of special training did you receive to prepare you for military action in Vietnam?<br />
<br />
I went over there. We touched down at Cameron Bay, South Vietnam. I was there three days they had what they called three day training on the ways and customs of the people. Then they decide where everybody is going to go. I got orders to go up north-about 300 miles.<br />
<br />
Did they fly you to Vietnam?<br />
<br />
The plane came down to pick us up. It was a C130, a cargo plane; about 150 of us got on there. He had lost an engine coming down , the pilot did. (Flavie asked me, "Do you know anything about a C130?") It had four engines. He lost one coming down but all the Army had was junk. The pilot told us, "I think we can take off," and we did.<br />
<br />
We got up there about half way and I could notice a change in the sound of the airplane. The co-pilot came back and said "Boys,that is what you are, if you get out of this you might be men."<br />
<br />
We lost another engine on the same wing. It won't stay up with two engines. We are ten or twelve miles inland, and we were going to try to make it to the South China Beach. I will never forget what he said, now mind you, we are heading north, he said, "We are going south and that means down."<br />
<br />
Viet Cong all around. We didn't have any weapons. My God, the pilot was good. We just barely cleared that mountain range. He dipped it real hard to the left and put it down on the South China Beach. We hit the beach and it kinda skipped. We hit the beach again, hard, and it skipped and we hit it again and it tore the right wing off and water was coming in. That was the third day in the country. That was the day my oldest son, Scott was born, December 12, 1968. (Do you know my boy?)<br />
<br />
What is the truth about the War in Vietnam, "were we prepared?"<br />
<br />
Eight or ten years ago I started to write a book and I finally just gave up on it because I figured no one will believe it anyway. Four or five years ago, I sorted through everything from the fire, I wrote a song, when we crashed on that C130 on the third day; the song says, "The next nine days on the run, my year in Nam had just begun."<br />
<br />
The pilot had got hold of back-up forces by radio and they sent some helicopter to pick up some of us. They brought weapons and sea rations.<br />
<br />
I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time; I got volunteered. Someone was going to have to stay there and guard that C130, so they picked five of us and then we hid out up in the woods, in the jungle on the side of the mountain. We hid out for nine days. They finally come down and carried that crashed C130 off with those big monsters they call a flying crane; two of them hovered down over and picked it up. Then I wound up going up country about another 150 miles where I had started in the first place.<br />
<br />
The Army didn't make any sense in those days because I was infantry and got assigned to an aviation battalion, 14th Aviation Battalion. Now this was all 14th Aviation Battalion and I was across the swamp with the 14th Security Platoon but I was assigned to 170th Aviation. Hell, I am infantry what did; I know about airplanes? Well, I found out not too long after that.<br />
<br />
What are some of the details of being in Vietnam, like living conditions? Were things as bad as we heard?<br />
<br />
Mercy, mercy, in the beginning we just had the regular bunkers in the ground. My old 1st sergeant, good old guy, he reminded me of my dad; he took care of me; he took care of me, that old boy did. He saw it somewhere-got some papers on it or something-prefabs, prefab bunkers about twenty feet off the ground and the walls and the floor and the roof were a foot and one half thick filled up with sand. The idea-being up above the ground you can see better up there looking down. So, I worked with him, me and some of the other guys and we built twelve and by that time I am already making some rank; I think I am Spec 4 by then.<br />
<br />
I was the oldest guy there twenty five except for the Sergeant and the lifers and I am from West Virginia. Everybody knew I was from West Virginia. He put me in charge of the bunkers. All the city boys knew I was from West Virginia. That is what got me in a lot of jams I got in over there. They just assumed if you lived in West Virginia, you lived under a rock cliff. I lived on a rock, but Hell, not everybody did. A lot of times they would send me to places they would not send a city boy because they just figured I could do it. They knew I was coming back.<br />
<br />
They came to me one day and said that they were going to make me Acting E5, meaning I had temporary stripes and all the responsibilities and duties of an E5, but not getting paid for it. After about a month I told them, "If I am going in to these damn hell holes and you are expecting me to come out, I am going to start having to get paid for E5."<br />
<br />
They said, "You can't quit."<br />
<br />
Orders came down from the battalion and I made Permanent Party, E5 Sgt. E5 gets you about $25.00 or $30.00 extra a month ( went over as E1 and within 24 hours if you are in combat zone, you go automatic E Deuce).<br />
<br />
That was about after nine months. You see if I am not on them bunkers, I had another job there too. I done eight hours a day RTO (Radio, Telephone Operator). It was in the Command Bunker underground. I pulled twelve hours a night on the Bunker Line, then eight hrs a day in that Command Bunker, RTO. That is twenty hours a day. That only leaves four hours. Plus all the same time, I am having to fly with these yo-yos across the swamp to 176th.<br />
<br />
What are some of the events you consider major that occurred while you were in Vietnam?<br />
<br />
My God, if I told you everything it would take all day. I am going to tell you about this.<br />
<br />
We went way up the country somewhere, me and those guys from 176th and, Hell, rather than the co-pilot on a helicopter, they called him a Peter Pilot. I am the oldest guy rather than the pilot and Peter pilot and I was given the responsibility of being Crew Chief and Door Gunner. That was with a M60 machine gun and a 50 caliber machine gun and we went up with a full rocket load, (we were carrying all the rockets we could carry) I think seventy eight and aired off all those rockets on a village, a known Cong village. We are on our way back-everybody drank beer- and we never did drink going in. Coming out is we when would drag our beer out, pilot and peter pilot are in the cockpit; me and the other guys are in the back. Hell, we are jut drinking our beer and proud of ourselves for getting out of there and swapping stories about our girlfriend or wife back in the world (that is what we called back home, "the World").<br />
<br />
Here comes the hard part; sometimes I can get through this, sometimes I can't.<br />
<br />
Anyway, we thought we was in the clear, but we weren't. We took a rocket in the nose, right in the front belly, and it killed the pilot; drove him right out of his seat. A mess, blew him to pieces. The peter pilot was sitting to the pilot's right. It blew his left arm off (he showed me on his arm and it was even with the shoulder) and he jump up with no arm and came to the back yelling; everybody else was crying.<br />
<br />
I was the oldest, these guys are crying, it is starting to fill up with smoke and mind you I am infantry; but these other guys are crying and squalling. I knew they couldn't do it, so I went to the cockpit and moved what I could of the dead pilot; he was blown all to pieces and the Peter pilot. His name was Jeff; I don't remember his last name. Anyway, he started telling me which lever does what, which petal does what, what gauges to keep an eye on, what switch to flick if this happened or that happened, first time I had every been in a cockpit in my life in a helicopter. In a situation like that you had to fly at treetop level.<br />
<br />
Now, he said enough to me, he taught me how to go up or down, left or right, then he passed out, I thought he died. I am trying to fly this damn thing and trying to take care of him; he passed out. I thought he died. We are running just about 120 miles per hour. I don't know how many miles per hour by air. It was 100 miles from back to where we were headed south, back down to the 176th and these guys in the back are still crying. I think the peter pilot is dead, (he wasn't but I didn't know that). I think it was about 120miles per hour we were flying which is something less than one hour to get down there so I start getting closer and I am starting to recognize the country. Then, I realize I don't know how to slow the thing down, hydraulic oil spraying everywhere, smoke everywhere, I am getting closer and closer and I know where I have to put down. I started working levers, pulling switches and kicking petals. I got it slowed down to 70 or 80 miles per hour.<br />
<br />
I knew where I was going to have to put it down because if I missed we would wind up in that swamp and there was alligators in the swamp. So, I hit the ground at 70 or 80 miles per hour and it just went to flopping; it finally stopped and I realized I wasn't dead and the guys in the back, they ain't dead; they went off squalling, cussing and running off in the woods.<br />
<br />
I got the peter pilot out and what body parts I could find of the pilot-got them and we may have been as far as that garage over there (showing me how far by pointing to a garage across the street) and it blew up.<br />
<br />
About a week later I was in military court because I was not supposed to be flying that Huey. I was infantry.<br />
<br />
It is just like a civilian court except it is all military. The guy was the Judge. He was Sergeant Major, something like that. They was going to court martial me because I crashed that thing and it burned up. They was going to charge me $250,000. That is about less than half of what it cost new, but it was junk in the first place. They was going to make me sign papers to the effect they was going to take all my check except of twenty percent. They was <br />
<br />
going to take eighty percent of my check and make me sign papers to the effect that I would stay in the Army until that thing was paid for or I died, whichever one came first.<br />
<br />
I told him, "Hey man, your Honor, I haven't had time to get Counsel yet, you know a lawyer?"<br />
<br />
He said, "I will give you two weeks."<br />
<br />
In two weeks I hadn't found anybody. I didn't have time to go too far so I went back down there by myself and they were going to make me do all that stuff, like they said; so about that minute this peter pilot, his name was Jeff; he found out about it someway; he showed up, the one who lost his arm.<br />
<br />
He told them, he said, "No, you are not going to do anything like that."<br />
<br />
He was talking to a superior officer and he didn't know my name, he just knew "Crazy L." My nickname, that is all.<br />
<br />
He told them, " I just want this whole thing thrown out, forgotten about. If it had not been for "Crazy L," we would all be dead. It was junk anyway. They turned me loose; I was tickled to death.<br />
<br />
I went back up and right on the Bunker Line and right back in the Command Bunker doing all the other too. This part here is kinda funny and I want to tell you about it. I didn't think it was funny then.<br />
<br />
We had been out somewhere with this 176th again, only this time we are on what is called a fixed wing, 123: we get hit with a rocket a mortar or something and the co pilot flew the door open out of the cockpit and started throwing parachutes at everybody-only five of us in there. I had never seen a parachute, you know.<br />
<br />
I said, "Man, how does this thing work?" Mind you, this airplane is coming down and that pilot grabbed his and he said, "Watch me; you have one chance."<br />
<br />
He said, "We are leaving this."<br />
<br />
I was the last one out because I just couldn't get that thing on. I was the last one out.<br />
<br />
While I was still in high school, I had jumped off the top of Curtin Bridge (a very high structure) nineteen times one summer and hit wrong seventeen times in the river and it is way high too. You know where I am talking about, don't you? So when I jumped out of that airplane in the parachute and I pulled that ripcord, I was ticked to death when it opened. Then I got to thinking about jumping off Curtin Bridge and hitting wrong all those times and I was thinking, I hope I don't hit wrong this time. Well, I hit wrong because I saw I was going to come down in the trees and I came down right in the top of a big tree and skinned myself all up. It is funny now, but it wasn't funny then.<br />
<br />
If I had known what I was doing, you can steer those parachutes, I didn't know it then. Luck is what I am talking about. Another time over we got into some trouble and had to jump out of a helicopter and there are no parachutes on a helicopter but were lucky we were over a rice paddy. We was probably up a 100 feet and jumped, cause it was on fire, and I am thinking the same thing. I hit just right, straight up and down, just right.<br />
<br />
There was one guy, who didn't hit right; he was tipped forward and he was out of commission for about three weeks because of his eyes. All that stuff hit him in his eyes.<br />
<br />
What was it like returning to the United States? Did you know about the controversy over the War in Vietnam?<br />
<br />
When I came home, back to the USA, I had a little old cheap camera. I took pictures out the airplane window-the clouds and all-and happy to be alive and I met three guys on the plane that I didn't know when I was over there but this was leaving there and coming back here back to what we referred to as back to "The World," "The Freedom Flight."<br />
<br />
I met these three guys on the plane and we was going to land at the Seattle Tacoma Airport, (same place I took off from) and me and these other guys had our mind made up that when got off the plane, off the black top in the dirt, we were going kneel down and kiss "Mother Earth," bend over and throw dirt in our face and scream and holler and have a big time, a celebration.<br />
<br />
Well, when we started doing that a whole mob of people men and women together, started throwing rocks at us and called us baby killers and hit one guy in the head and hurt him.<br />
<br />
Boy that made me mad I had a notion just to fly into them. That was our homecoming. Back to our homeland.<br />
<br />
What did you do after returning from Vietnam?<br />
<br />
Then I was going to have six months left in the Army yet, at Ft. Ord in northern California and while I was in Vietnam they offered me a chance after I got to Ft. Ord, I was Sgt. E5 they offered to waive my time and grade as E5 if I would extend my tour of duty thirty days.<br />
<br />
If I had of done that I would have qualified early out, five month drop, if you had five months or less left. After I got to Ft. Ord, I wish I had because they put me in to training men to go to Vietnam. I taught three two hour classes every day on how kill and how to survive in the jungles of Nam.<br />
<br />
When I got out of Vietnam, hell, I was happy, when I got out of the Army I celebrated. Then I moved back to Ohio and then I came back to West Virginia in 1975.<br />
<br />
What about the Vietnam War?<br />
<br />
I don't know, you really didn't know what to think. It has had a lasting effect on me, on my life. I still have flashbacks and nerve problems. I learned to speak their language. My second wife said that the reason she left me, I was beating her up at night and speaking in Vietnamese and calling her Nam names. I didn't know I was doing that. I have three appointments at the VA Center in the next couple of months all related to the war.<br />
<br />
Who were the victims?<br />
<br />
Supposedly, it was just like our Civil War in one respect the North was Communist; the South was not. Down where I was some of those villages (supposedly friendly villages) because they were North Vietnam Army (NVA), Viet Cong (VC) didn't uniforms but they were worse that the NVA.<br />
<br />
I have two doctors' appointments this month at the Veterans hospital because of nerve problems. I have had to have counseling because of the war. He has got me on some nerve pills.<br />
<br />
I was up there at the Recruitment Center and talked to Newt McCutcheon, "Do you know Newt?" He wrote down some stuff about what happened. I brought it for you to look over and read.<br />
<br />
I asked Flavie if this information could it be included in his oral history? He said, "Yes."<br />
<br />
Description of a life-threatening episode that caused nervous condition - details as to the nature and severity of the episode and when it occurred<br />
<br />
(Post Traumatic Stress)<br />
<br />
"While stationed with the 14th Security Platoon, Cho, Lai, Republic of South Vietnam while on duty in the guard tower over watching the parameters of our compound I was scanning my section which was my responsibility while using my "Starlight Scope" (ANPUS-4) I suddenly noticed that there was a clump of something moving outside the parameter.<br />
<br />
I quickly called the Tower to my immediate left and right to see if they could confirm the same thing. They saw movement as well.<br />
<br />
I then called back to the CP and reached the ISG. I explained to him what I had seen and told him that towers confirmed the same thing.<br />
<br />
ISG said, "You know that you are in a "No-Fire" zone."<br />
<br />
Suddenly the Company Commander walked in the CP and asked the ISG what was going on, the ISG turned the phone over to him and I explained what was going and that the "clump" was getting closer and closer. The Company Commander also told me that we were in a "No-Fire" zone as well.<br />
<br />
I asked him what to do, and he replied, "I know what I would do if it were me."<br />
<br />
I acknowledged and said, "Roger Out!"<br />
<br />
I then phoned and told them to get ready, "We are going to give whatever is out there all we got!"<br />
<br />
I was the squad leader at the time and I was in Tower #9 (Lucky #9). I always took #9 because I felt that it was the most crucial due to the fact that we could be hit by sea or land. The guys in Towers 8 and 10 asked me who authorized me to engage the "Clump," and I said, "Nobody move," I am taking responsibility of this my own damn self. I then said that we are going to open up at the count of "3" and we did. I initiated fire with my M-60 machine gun, Tower #8 cut loose with the M79 grenade launcher and Tower#10 with a M-14 crap began to blow up everywhere. The engagement lasted approximately ten-twenty seconds and then silence.<br />
<br />
I then looked through my "Starlight Scope" and saw nothing.<br />
<br />
I was on end the rest of the night. When daylight finally arrived we checked the perimeter and found pieces of bodies everywhere. The best I could tell there was about five of them and the body parts were painted the same color as the sand. There was a lot of blood too. I was relieved from my watch. I went directly to the CP and worked there for eight hours and then caught some sleep.<br />
<br />
I was scared and nervous and really couldn't sleep because of what had taken place. This is how I earned my Combat Infantryman's Badge!<br />
<br />
Flavie said, "I brought you a letter from a close friend of mine, I want you to read it and tell me what you think, when you have a minute here. It is pretty personal. " He handed me the letter. I read the letter and I asked if he would like to have it made a part of his oral history and he said, "Most definitely"<br />
<br />
3/Jan 2002<br />
<br />
Craigsville, WV<br />
<br />
To Whom It May Concern;<br />
<br />
I was asked to write down what I thought were changes in Flavie Ellison's personality after the Vietnam War.<br />
<br />
He went into Service a nice young man and came out a person without purpose. He attended church practically every Sunday. Now he drinks - lives to drink, has a mouth full of 'swamp' talk that can embarrass and hurt and he doesn't understand why. He brought back something in his mind that won't let him leave that place.<br />
<br />
Over the last two years he has been through two marriages, several jobs, lots of alcohol and living alone in a very isolated place. His isolation is self-inflicted. He doesn't want company. He has become anti-social, can't hold a job, can't hang on to relationships and says that just gets in the way of the past.<br />
<br />
He was in a motorcycle accident several years ago and when he woke up after being unconscious, he had reverted back to Vietnam - didn't know his wife at that time. But he knew his ex wife's name and spoke Vietnamese as his training had taught him to do. His doctor, who was a Veteran, recognized the language and could communicate with him. Yet, today I'll bet he couldn't consciously speak any other language but American English.<br />
<br />
This, this horror of that war has touched every aspect of his life and it still does to this day. I personally feel that it will keep affecting him the rest of his life.<br />
<br />
He was a "country" boy who was given a rifle, trained, and told to KILL! And being a patriotic young man, did just that. It went against his passive nature, but he had been trained, so he now lives with what he saw and did. Somewhere in all the blood and death and warm beer, he put himself away to be brought back at a later time. But he could never do it. So Sad.<br />
<br />
His Friend,<br />
<br />
Shirley Farley<br />
<br />
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
"What in the Hell is so Special About Eddie Caudill"<br />
<br />
August 3, 1972<br />
<br />
Written by Jim Branscome, Investigative Reporter and published in The Mountain Eagle Newspaper, Whitesburg, KY<br />
<br />
Reprinted with permission of Tom Gish, proprietor of the Mountain Eagle Newspaper<br />
<br />
Vietnam War story - Wounded mountain boy faces desertion charges<br />
<br />
Fort Gay, West Virginia : Six years ago this May Eddie Caudill left his home here on the banks of the Big Sandy River to board a bus for Fort Knox, Kentucky. Nineteen years old and married only three weeks, Eddie was not particularly interested in joining the army, but his Lawrence County, Kentucky, draft board had said go, and he went. In words that one hears often in the mountains, he says, "When I got orders, I sure didn't want to go because of Vietnam. But I went because I knew there was a lot of other guys going, and I wasn't one bit better than them."<br />
<br />
On Thursday morning of this week Sergeant Eddie Caudill will again board the bus for Fort Knox, Kentucky. He will be asked to step forward just like he did when he was a green recruit. But this time, he will not be asked to take an oath, but to answer to charges of deserting the U.S. Army.<br />
<br />
A VIET CONG BULLET<br />
<br />
When he makes that step forward, his left leg will be dragging behind the right one, its muscles and nerves wrangled by a Viet Cong rifle bullet. His body will lean slightly forward to avoid pain from a large, deep hole in his left side, the entrance of the bullet that has yet to completely heal after five years. After that step, Eddie will get the verdict on whether he will get a court martial or a dismissal. The court martial is the more probable.<br />
<br />
Eddie Caudill was a good soldier. His eighth-grade education got him into the Army to begin with it; it also got him into the jungles instead of behind a desk when he arrived in Vietnam. His superior performance as a foot soldier won him fast promotions. In a year and a half he rose from a Private carrying a M-60 machine gun to a Sergeant commanding his own ten-man unit weapons squad.<br />
<br />
A Veterans Administration spokesman in Huntington says the statistics show that, "mountain boys make superior soldiers but I can't recall one doing as well as Eddie Caudill." The army statistics also show that mountain boys die at rates twice the average of other state groups. Eddie Caudill almost became one of these statistics.<br />
<br />
On October 28, 1967, Caudill was ordered to take his squad on a patrol into enemy territory. "They don't usually do this," he says, "because I had only nineteen days to go before I was to leave for home. But they were short of E-5's and sent me on patrol even though I tried to get them not to." As Caudill was preparing to report to headquarters on a successful patrol, he was struck in the shoulder and stomach by rifle bullets fired by a Viet Cong soldier with a captured American weapon. "I covered the knot sticking out of my stomach with my bandage and passed out," he says.<br />
<br />
Thanks to a successful medical evacuation mission, Caudill awoke alive in the Long Bin hospital. After twenty days, he was transferred to the army hospital in Yokahama, Japan. He thought he was progressing well. Nurses changed his bandages three times a day and gave him a total of sixteen pills a day to prevent infection. After two weeks, he was transferred to Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington, D.C. It was here that problems developed. Caudill tells it this way: "A doctor came in and looked at my wound. He told the nurse that I could care for my own wound and gave me a thing I could use to stick back into the wound to pull the pus out of my side. They didn't change the solution that I put into my side, so each time I used it, I was just reinfecting myself. They gave me no pills and no packing. The wound healed from the outside, closing the pus in, and they just had to bust it open. It was just as big as ever. All that work for nothing."<br />
<br />
The only treatment Caudill got at Walter Reed Hospital was in April of 1968 re-connecting his severed intestines and restoring his bowel movements to normal, instead into a sack on his side.<br />
<br />
NO MEDICAL SUPERVISION<br />
<br />
After a short period of recovery, he was reassigned to a barracks outside of Walter Reed with no medical supervision. On his initiative Caudill bought bandages, Q-tips, and hydrogen peroxide to clean his wound. Despite his continued infection, he was assigned on regular detail at the barracks and had to care for his wound "whenever I could fine time."<br />
<br />
Several times during this period, he asked to be sent to a Veterans Administration hospital. "Each time they said they was going to do something, but they never did," he says. Finally, in May of 1968 he asked a Walter Reed doctor for a leave of absence and received it. After being home for two weeks, he asked his sister to call the doctor and request another week of leave. According to Caudill, "The doctor gave it to me and specified no time that I was to return. So I stayed home until the first of September. They knew where I was. If they'd have said 'come back' I'd have gone back."<br />
<br />
When he returned to Walter Reed in September, he was arrested by military police for desertion. "They put me in a little cage with a six- or eight-inch bench to sleep on. I had to treat my wound laying on that bench. I had to stick the Q-tip all the way in to its tip, just like always," he says.<br />
<br />
From the cage Caudill was transferred to Fort Meade, Maryland. There he was taken before a Colonel and given a summary court martial, but no demotion and no sentence. Despite his continued requests, Caudill was never given a release date from the army. On December 23 of 1968, "It didn't look like I was any closer to being released, so I asked for a leave to go home for Christmas: "They gave it to me. I never went back." By this time Caudill had already spent more time in the army than was required. He was receiving no medical attention at Fort Meade. He never returned, he said "because I didn't feel I was being taken care of the way I should have been after I went over there and got shot."<br />
<br />
GETS HIGHWAY DEPT JOB<br />
<br />
After returning home, Caudill tried working. A job with the highway department lasted until his leg started giving him problems. An examination by a local physician revealed that the nerves in the leg were severed by his stomach wound. The examination also revealed-- to Caudill's surprise -- that he still has metal stitches inside his body and must have them removed in an operation. "They never told me they put any stitches in there," he says.<br />
<br />
Caudill was forced to go on welfare after giving up his job. He draws a monthly check of $112 to support his wife and three children ages 4, 2, and six months. He pays rent on a two-story frame house that has no plumbing and stands a few feet from the main line of the N & W Railroad and across the river from the Kentucky border. Since he left on December 23, 1968, he had not heard from Uncle Sam, no letters, no checks, nothing.<br />
<br />
It was the welfare department that advised him to contact the Veterans Administration. The Veterans Administration in turn advised him to write his Congressmen and try to establish his military standing. He wrote Rep. Carl Perkins because he lived in Kentucky until he was drafted; then Rep. Ken Hechler; then "even President Nixon." After a string of letters from each, Caudill decided the best thing he could do was "to go in and settle up with the army."<br />
<br />
Settling up with the army is not an easy matter, though. It took the Veterans Administration several days to even find his records - they were located in Fort Benjamin Harrison in Indiana, the headquarters for all files on AWOL's and deserters.<br />
<br />
A Major at Fort Knox would give no assurance about what the army will do when Caudill arrives Thursday. Caudill isn't certain himself. "If I get a bad discharge, I don't deserve it," he says, adding, "I want to get medical help` and GI Benefits. I need an education. When I was in this trouble, I didn't even know who to write for help; even who my Congressman was."<br />
<br />
Caudill has asked the welfare department for assurance that his family will be cared for if he is imprisoned. They have agreed. He has also tried to sell his litter of pigs, the only tangible property he has besides a 1956 Mercury automobile.<br />
<br />
Caudill says he is not bitter about the army and would serve in Vietnam again "if they asked me to." But he does not believe he deserves a court martial and a sentence. "I was proud toward the uniform I was wearing. I never had any problems -- not even an Article 15 -- with the army until I got to Walter Reed."<br />
<br />
Caudill's recitation of his problems with army bureaucracy left reporters shaking their heads at his home last Saturday. Somehow, you just can not believe that Eddie Caudill could be in trouble with anybody, particularly an army that he served so well. The only decoration on Eddie Caudill's living room wall is that hauntingly familiar blue sign seen all over the mountains: In white letters it says, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."<br />
<br />
One week after Sergeant Eddie Caudill surrendered to authorities at Fort Knox, Kentucky, he has still to receive medical treatment or to get any definite word about desertion charges that will be brought against him by the army. He is lodged in a fenced and guarded confinement center and assigned to "limited duty" on the base.<br />
<br />
Army spokesmen are refusing specific information to a reporter about when the wounded soldier will be court martialed. One commanding officer, however, says that it could be in "three or four weeks."<br />
<br />
Caudill reported to the Personnel Confinement Facility last Thursday night. On Friday morning he arose at 5:30 a.m. with two hundred others accused of desertion. When a reporter arrived at the facility to inquire about Caudill's status, the commanding officer, Major J. L. Deryck, refused to disclose whether he was there. After several questions, however, he shouted, "What in the Hell is so special about Eddie Caudill?"<br />
<br />
Major Deryck insisted that the reporter could not talk to Caudill because "he's at the hospital getting medical treatment." A few hours later, however, the reporter saw Caudill walking around the facility. He had not been anywhere near the hospital. After this fact was called to the major's attention, he did interview Caudill and ordered that he be sent to the hospital for a "complete medical examination."<br />
<br />
Despite army information to the contrary, Caudill was never examined by a doctor on Friday. This reporter was ordered out of the hospital after he found that Caudill was to be examined on Monday by a para-professional not qualified to give medical diagnosis. On Monday, an army spokesman at the base confirmed that Caudill had seen a medic. Asked what the examination revealed, the spokesman, a lieutenant colonel, said, "The examination shows that the man needs medical treatment."<br />
<br />
No date has been set for Caudill to enter the hospital "pending receipt of his medical records from the Walter Reed hospital in Washington, D.C.). Caudill has an infection in a stomach wound, the result of metal stitches left in his body at Walter Reed.<br />
<br />
The chain of command at Ft. Knox is not of one opinion about whether Caudill will be court martialed. A spokesman Friday morning said, "It's prime material for a general court martial. A general court martial is the most serious, meaning a possible five-year sentence at hard labor, loss of all army benefits, and a dishonorable discharge. On Friday afternoon, the same officer had changed his mind, saying, "If his story is true, he will get an honorable discharge."<br />
<br />
The base press officers, who control information going to newsmen, say that "nothing" will probably happen so far as a court martial is concerned. But on Monday it was learned that Caudill has been given his rights and had a lawyer assigned from the Judge Advocate General's office to defend him. This is the usual procedure before a court martial; on Friday the army had said Caudill had not been assigned an attorney since "we're not certain we're doing to do anything to him."<br />
<br />
Apparently, the commanding officers are not impressed by the congressional inquiries being made about Caudill. Two congressmen, Rep. Ken Hechler and Rep. Carl Perkins, and Senator Robert Byrd of West Virginia, have reportedly sent letters to the army asking that Caudill be given medical treatment and expeditious processing. A commanding officer at the base, asked about the army's lack of concern over the congressional inquiries, said, "Oh, everyone writes their congressmen. We get those things all the time and send a form letter back."<br />
<br />
Caudill has charged that he received unsatisfactory medical treatment at Walter Reed Army Hospital in Washington and deserted because he felt he should have been treated better "after I went over there and got shot." Caudill says he had to change his own bandages at the hospital. He describes Ward 32 at Walter Reed where he was kept as a "dirty place" where "nurses mistreated guys by throwing water on them and things like that." Asked whether the army was prepared to deny those charges, a press officer said, "No."<br />
<br />
Eddie Caudill is only one of hundreds of mountain men brought into the Fort Knox center for AWOL's and deserters (anyone AWOL for more than 30 days) each month. On the same day that Caudill reported in, 32 other West Virginians arrived at the center in the custody of military police. The army is not certain how many AWOL's and deserters it brings in each month at Fort Knox. One commanding officer said from 700 to 1,100 a month. Army information officers say this figure may be exaggerated because "sometimes we catch the same guy two or three times a month." Regardless, most of Ft. Knox's AWOL's are from the mountains, presumably because such a large number of mountain youth are unable to avoid being drafted by obtaining deferments.<br />
<br />
Even though the army is moving toward voluntary enlistment, it still gets a disproportionate share of its soldiers from the "job" poor Appalachian region. The Department of Defense has reported, for example, that West Virginia leads the nation in per capita Vietnam deaths: 25 West Virginians die per 100,000 population compared to 17 per 100,000 population nationally.<br />
<br />
The army does not keep figures on portions of Appalachians states like eastern Kentucky.<br />
<br />
The army says it has a total of 50,000 AWOL's and deserters in the country at any one time. If the figures quoted by the army are correct, then one-fourth of all those who are brought in come to Fort Knox. About 90 per cent of those who desert have less than a high school education; their average age is 18. Fort Knox has a total of seven army lawyers to defend these 700 to 1,100 soldiers who come in each month.<br />
<br />
Part of the explanation of why mountain men find the army less than desirable may rest with the attitude of their commanding officers. One high-ranking officer at Fort Knox, who asked not to be identified by name, said mountain soldiers are "unsophisticated, disadvantaged, can't see the big picture, lack proper values and are more concerned about themselves than they are the army."<br />
<br />
They're just different. The same officer resents the "modern approach" under which the army handles those who go AWOL or desert. "What we ought to do is take these guys out behind the barracks and pull their ears," the officer said. Even though he says he commands the AWOL center under the modern approach, the same officer said, "Most of these guys wish they were in the stockade instead of here when I get through with them."<br />
<br />
This officer refused to allow a reporter to visit the area where AWOL's and deserters are first brought in. Asked why, he replied, "You'd just get in the way. You write that these guys desert because they have strong family ties. If you can't write something good, don't write anything about us. We can handle affairs here without reporters snooping around."<br />
<br />
"The New Army Wants to Serve You" the signs in all the mountain courtrooms say. That sign should perhaps be amended to say exactly how the army treats those who insist on retaining some of their mountain independence.<br />
<br />
With all the talk about amnesty for those in Canada, maybe it's time to suggest that we have a similar problem for soldiers in the army who don't like Vietnam and army life either. Especially those like Eddie Caudill who "went over there and got shot up."<br />
<br />
Army officials at Fort Knox did an about face this week and announced that "in all likelihood" Sergeant Eddie Caudill will be a free man in less than a month. When Caudill arrived at the base three weeks ago, commanding officers disagreed only on the kind of court martial that he would get, one commanding officer saying that "he's prime material for a general court martial" -- the most serious disciplinary action that can be taken against a deserter. This week, however, the army press information office released a statement saying, "The Army feels there would be no justice in court martialing this man. He filled his time."<br />
<br />
The army chose an administrative maneuver that allows it to release Caudill without having to officially consider his absence of four years. Technically, Caudill's case has been transferred to the Medical Review Board at the Pentagon with the recommendation that he be discharged from the army "for medical reasons." The recommendation was made by a medical review board at Fort Knox, thus taking the case from the hands of the Commander of the Personnel Control Facility. The Pentagon normally acts on such cases in about a month, a spokesman said. During this time Caudill will either be confined at the base and assigned to "light duty" or sent home on leave. (After considerable delay, Caudill was assigned to the hospital for test and treatment last week.)<br />
<br />
For some unexplained reason, the Fort Knox spokesman still insist that Caudill's medical condition is "normal" despite the recommendation that he be given a medical discharge with all benefits. Spokesmen have consistently played down a visible infection in a side wound the soldier received in Vietnam in 1967.<br />
<br />
On Friday a Major Gant with the press information office sidestepped a question about the infection by saying, "A little infection may have come from those metal stitches left in his side. But, you must understand, these stitches always work themselves out. The doctors usually tell a man to take a finger nail clipper and clip them off when they come out so they won't tear his shirt." Major Gant said he would have to get a doctor's opinion before he could say whether four years was an unusually long time for stitches to take in "working themselves out." Army spokesman remained tightlipped about Caudill's charges of mistreatment while at Walter Reed Army Hospital, saying that such questions should be directed to the Surgeon General's Office in Washington.<br />
<br />
Caudill's case has been followed closely by Congressman Ken Hechler, who made a personal call to Gen. Wm. R. Desorby, the commanding General at Fort Knox, and by Congressman Carl Perkins and Senator Robert Byrd, who wrote letters to the Commander of the Army. Press attention, particularly that of the Washington Post, appears to have been a major reason the army changed its mind about Caudill's case. The Army teletyped messages about press inquiries and newspaper stories back and forth between Fort Knox and the Pentagon Press information offices. It would not be an overstatement to say that Caudill so far has seen more of the Fort Knox press information officers than he has of the Fort Knox medical officers.<br />
<br />
Regardless, the good news for Sergeant Eddie Caudill is that barring some unforseen difficulties he will soon be a "civilian" for the first time since May of 1966 when he first entered the army. The Army answered its own question about "What in the Hell is so special about Eddie Caudill?" In its announcement dropping charges against the wounded veteran, the army said, "The only obligations involved were ours to him."<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-76470426771102261192013-12-01T08:46:00.000-05:002013-12-01T08:46:06.751-05:00Sago Mine Disaster, (Appalachian Coalfield Stories) feature Builder Levy photosBuilder Levy photos<br />found in Sago Mine Disaster, featured story (Appalachian Coalfield Stories) Book<br />by B. L. Dotson-Lewis<br />
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End of Shift by Builder Levy<br />
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sago-Mine-Disaster-Featured-Story/dp/0741434784">http://www.amazon.com/Sago-Mine-Disaster-Featured-Story/dp/0741434784</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-87186547934314699562013-11-12T18:38:00.002-05:002013-11-12T18:38:49.446-05:00Black Lung<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: 19px;"><b>Black Lung</b></span></div>
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Oral History Interview
with Dr. Donald L. Rasmussen</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
(A Doctor Devoting
His Life to Defeating Black Lung Disease)</div>
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Sophia, West Virginia<br />
July, 2002-5:00 p.m.</div>
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Dr. Donald Rasmussen</div>
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(Introductory comments by friends and associates)</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Sherry
Williams, <st1:date day="6" month="8" w:st="on" year="2002">August 6, 2002</st1:date>,
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beckley</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">WV</st1:state></st1:place><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> In 1975
Dr. Rasmussen helped my mother get her black lung. My father died when he was
51 years old. Dr. Rasmussen performed
an autopsy and that was instrumental in my mother getting black lung. He has been instrumental in getting
hundreds and hundreds of coalminers their black lung. He is not only a number one doctor. He is a number one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Cecil
Roberts, UMWA (United Miners Workers of <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region>) President - August, 2002<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> As a
champion for human rights, Dr. Donald Rasmussen helped spearhead the fight
waged by the United Mine Workers of America and other advocates to compensate
victims of black lung and prevent further victimization. As a leading expert on pulmonary disease,
he helped change the way that <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region>'s
medical profession views this disease.
Through his extensive research on black lung, he was able to dispel
the mythology spewed by operator-hired doctors, who often claimed the disease
resulted from smoking instead of coal dust.
As an outspoken advocate for justice, he played a key role in shaping
laws that provide compensation and benefits for black lung victims, including
thousands of UMWA members, in <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">West
Virginia</st1:place></st1:state> and across <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Alan
Derickson, Penn <st1:place w:st="on">St.</st1:place> Professor and author,
Black Lung: <i>Anatomy of a Public Health
Disaster</i></span></b><i><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> Donald
Rasmussen made a singular and extremely important contribution to the
historic efforts to compensate victims of black lung and to prevent further
victimization. All those who care
about this issue and, beyond that, about a human society are deeply in his
debt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Mike
Clark. <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Yellowstone</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">National Park</st1:placetype></st1:place>, Heritage
Foundation, August, 2002<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> Please
pass on to Dr. Rasmussen my warmest personal regards. I have few heroes left
-- perhaps a legacy of growing older in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region> -- but he is one of my
heroes and I admire him enormously. His work remains for me the outstanding
example of a medical doctor in <st1:place w:st="on">Appalachia</st1:place>
responding to a region-wide crisis, bringing his medical expertise and moral
judgment to bear on the problem, and then helping ordinary people and their
union work to solve the problem.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> His
expertise on black lung and his willingness to help thousands of victims and
their families improved the lives of miners throughout the country. All of us who care about coal miners and
the coal mining regions of the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">United States</st1:place></st1:country-region> are forever
indebted to him for his service, his humanity, and his leadership over the
past thirty years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> During
my time at Highlander and in the years since, I have often been reminded of
his unique role and his leadership in bringing about reforms in the coal
industry and in public health for rural people in this country. I remember his willingness to not only help
coal miners, but to also educate other industrial workers about hazards in
the workplace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> For
example, once at a Highlander workshop for textile workers suffering from
brown lung, Dr. Rasmussen made the long drive to Highlander and spent a day
with about thirty disabled textile workers.
At the end of the day, one leader in the group, with tears in her
eyes, told me -- "That's the first doctor I've ever met who told us the
truth about why we can't breathe and who has helped us figure out what to do
about it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> Those
workers went on to gain some degree of compensation for their disease in
North and <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">South Carolina</st1:place></st1:state>
because of what Dr. Rasmussen taught them that day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> I
think this kind of story could be repeated again and again about the good
doctor. Please convey to him my complete
admiration for his career and my thanks for all he has done for working
people in this country.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Oral history interview.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> Author’s
note: </span></b><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> During an oral history interview with a
coalminer suffering from black lung, I learned that Dr. Donald Rasmussen was
still living and practicing medicine in the Appalachian area. I wrote a
letter to him explaining the purpose of my website and sent him copies of
several stories I had collected from coal miners. I asked him for
an oral history interview to capture the story of the miners' struggle in
obtaining black lung benefits; as well as the events leading up to Jock
Yablonski, his wife and daughter's, brutal murder during his bid for
President of the United Miners Workers of America. Two
weeks passed, no call, no letter, nothing from Dr. Rasmussen-I was becoming a
little skeptical, a little worried I would not get this great story-then one
day, I was busy working at my desk in the early afternoon around two p.m. when my phone rang in July, 2002-it
was Dr. Rasmussen. We spoke briefly and he agreed to an oral history
interview <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> I was so excited I immediately emailed friends out of
the region who were familiar with Dr. Rasmussen's work; Branscome, NYC; Hall,
DC; Clark, Montana; Derickson, Penn St. I quickly wrote Ken Hechler a
letter. Then, I told everyone in the office, Dr. Rasmussen was going to
give me an oral history oral. I was the lucky one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> He invited me to come to his home in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Sophia</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">WV</st1:state></st1:place>
on the following Tuesday around <st1:time hour="17" minute="30" w:st="on">5:30
pm.</st1:time> (same coal camp town where Sen. Robert C. Byrd grew
up). I left for Sophia on that Tuesday right after work
heading toward <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Sophia</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">WV</st1:state></st1:place> on <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Robert C. Byrd Drive</st1:address></st1:street>. At exit 42, the
sign said "Keep right for Sophia."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> I arrived in Sophia, a typical southern Appalachian coal mining
town. At the stop light, I turned right instead of left and realized I
was lost. I pulled over to the side and waved to a town cop, who
immediately came to my rescue. When I asked him for directions to Dr.
Rasmussen's home, he just said, "Follow me." It was probably
two blocks away. A home for Dr. Rasmussen in the heart of the Southern
Appalachian coalfields of <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">West
Virginia</st1:place></st1:state>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> I was greeted warmly by Dr.
Rasmussen, his beautiful wife, Carmen, their dog and two of their 6
cats. </span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>How did you get here and become involved in the coal miners' struggles?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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"The
Journal of American Medical Association classified ad in October, 1962 read, -
"Doctors Needed in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beckley</st1:city>,
<st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state></st1:place>, at the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Miners</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Memorial</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place>"</div>
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"I came to look around and
never left." - Dr. Donald
Rasmussen, Black Lung Specialist, told me.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>When did you become an advocate for the coalminers and their families?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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I
was merely caring for my patients. It
was all in the scope of my job, I never considered the work I did as anything
beyond what my job called for in caring for my patient. I never used the term "advocate" to
describe myself-just a physician performing my duty. Unfortunately not a lot has changed for the
coal miner, maybe some in the areas of safety and health improvements have been
made.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Where did you grow up, was it near <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:place></st1:state>? <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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I
was born in the southern part of <st1:state w:st="on">Colorado</st1:state>
in a little place called Manassa, just north of the <st1:state w:st="on">New Mexico</st1:state> state line on the banks of the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Conejas</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">River</st1:placetype></st1:place>, close to a town called Alamosa,
between <st1:place w:st="on">Trinidad</st1:place> and <st1:state w:st="on">Durango</st1:state>.</div>
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When
I was five, my family left there and moved to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Collins</st1:placename></st1:place>
where my father went to veterinary school.
I attended school in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype>
<st1:placename w:st="on">Collins</st1:placename></st1:place> through the first
three grades; when my dad got out of school we moved to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Ogden</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Utah</st1:state></st1:place>
where my dad's brother had a veterinary practice.</div>
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We
lived there in <st1:city w:st="on">Ogden</st1:city>
up to my junior year in high school. We moved to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Logan</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Utah</st1:state></st1:place>,
where I finished high school and pre-med in college. So, I was not born in <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state> but many miles away.</div>
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<b>Where did you
complete your education?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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I
did my undergraduate work at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Utah</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">State</st1:placetype> <st1:placetype w:st="on">University</st1:placetype></st1:place>
at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Logan</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Utah</st1:state></st1:place>. I then went to medical school in <st1:city w:st="on">Salt Lake City</st1:city> at the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">University</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">Utah</st1:placename></st1:place>. I graduated in 1952 I
interned at the University of Minnesota and then spent one year at the
University of Utah and two years at Letterman General Army Hospital in San
Francisco. I had one year of pulmonary
residency at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Fitzsimmons</st1:placename>
<st1:placename w:st="on">General</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place>
in <st1:state w:st="on">Colorado</st1:state>.</div>
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I
was in the Army in 1955 and stayed until 1962. I was in the Army for some of my
training at Letterman and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Fitzsimmons</st1:placename>
<st1:placename w:st="on">Army</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospitals</st1:placetype></st1:place>. I was in the Army between <st1:country-region w:st="on">Korea</st1:country-region> and <st1:country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region> serving
initially at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Ft. Ord</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">California</st1:state></st1:place>.
Then I was assigned to Fitzsimmons as Chief of TB and then Chief of
Chest Services at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Brookside</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place> at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Sam</st1:placename></st1:place>,
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Houston</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Texas</st1:state></st1:place>.</div>
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When
I got out of the army and I was looking for a place to practice medicine, I ran
across an ad in JAMA (Journal of American Medical Association),"Doctors
needed in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beckley</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state></st1:place> at the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Miners</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Memorial</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place>." They were going to pay my way out and
back. I came in October 1962 just to
look around and I never left.</div>
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I liked
what I saw, the facility and the people.
I was very much impressed with the medical staff at the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Miners</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Memorial</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place> in <st1:city w:st="on">Beckley</st1:city> in 1962. They
had, for example, a pulmonary specialist.
He was Robert Hyatt and he subsequently went to the Mayo Clinic and
eventually became the director of the Mayo Clinic's Pulmonary Function.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
(<b>Author's note</b>: I spoke with
Dr. Hyatt on the phone at his cabin in northern <st1:state w:st="on">Minnesota</st1:state> after Dr. Rasmussen told me that
he had originally practiced at the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Miners</st1:placename>
<st1:placename w:st="on">Memorial</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place>. He has just retired after three decades of
work at the Mayo Clinic. I also
learned that Dr. Hyatt supervised doctors at Ground Zero; to help diagnose
rescue workers suffering from respiratory problems at the site of the September
11 attacks - Dr. Hyatt told me he was leaving <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Miners</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Memorial</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place> when Dr.
Rasmussen came on board but he did remember him well. Dr. Hyatt said he had visited the area two
years ago looking for the little state police headquarters converted to a house
he and his family occupied while living in Beckley. He told me that his daughter attended college
in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Blacksburg</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">VA.</st1:state></st1:place>
Finally, Dr. Hyatt said that he could never forget the beauty of the
region but was appalled by what he saw happening with mountaintop removal.)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We
had a pathologist who was interested in cytopathology. We had a cardiologist who had done a lot of
work on cardiac rhythm who later was working with <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">George</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">Washington</st1:placename>
<st1:placename w:st="on">Medical</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Center</st1:placetype></st1:place>. A medical center was dedicated to him. We had others who were excellent, plus the
situation was comfortable with the closeness of the staff and the salary was
attractive. I also liked the idea of
caring for the coal miners. I was
impressed. I never regretted coming to
the hospital. I was fascinated by the
work.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When
I came, I had no knowledge about coal miners' lung disease, black lung. I did not come for that but I began to see a
lot of miners who had trouble with their lungs and breathing. I became more
interested and began to study the cases.
They had definite shortness of breath.
Even the X-rays did not show very much.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Breathing
studies might not show much either but we had seen a lot of different types of
lung disease at Fitzsimmons. The patient
may not show shortness of breath until they exercised. Normally these people would show a drop in
oxygen in the blood.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I
was able to persuade the hospital to get a gas analyzer and I guess the first
coal miner that we exercised and drew blood from showed the same kind of
abnormalities we had seen in unusual lung disease cases in hospitals where I
trained in <st1:city w:st="on">Denver</st1:city>
and <st1:city w:st="on">San Antonio</st1:city>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
For example, here was a guy, a coal miner, who
complained of shortness of breath. His
breathing test was normal, but through the exercise studies we were able to
determine a respiratory problem. We found a fair number of those with shortness
of breath with abnormalities and function and that was very interesting. I did not come here to do lung disease, but
this really got me interested. I was
fascinated by these cases.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Later,
I quit my job with the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Miners</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Hospital</st1:placetype></st1:place> and spent two
years in the public health services. I
was doing the same type of studies though, and I traveled throughout the
Appalachian coalfields supervising two field teams evaluating Appalachian
coalminers. I was able to continue to do the exercise studies while I was in
the public health field.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
To date we have evaluated approximately 50,000
coalminers for black lung disease. About
forty percent of those who have come to us show some evidence of the
disease. We continue to find the same
abnormalities, as well as miners with COPD.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
What
I began to do after public health service-was to write reports for some of
these men for social security disability and others who were filing workers
compensation claims as a result of respiratory problems. I actually spent a lot of time being cross
examined as an expert witness. I would
go to <st1:city w:st="on">Charleston</st1:city>
and testify and be cross-examined.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Also, I have served as an expert witness
before federal judges in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Washington</st1:city>,
<st1:state w:st="on">DC</st1:state></st1:place> or in many cases the attending
physician in cases relating to Black Lung claims such as the appeal case of
Mildred Clovis, widow of Everett Clovis vs. FMC Mining Equipment Division,
Decision issued, <st1:date day="22" month="12" w:st="on" year="2000">December
22, 2000</st1:date>. These cases usually involve the awarding of a miner or
his widow benefits and then the coal operator tries to take those benefits
away. These cases are heard by Federal Appeals Judges.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Then
in 1968 Dr. Hawey Wells, a pathologist in the public health service, who was
working at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Johnstown</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">PA.</st1:state></st1:place>, (had been working in Washington, D.C. with Congress) invited me
and three coal miners to come to Washington and testify before the Judicial
Subcommittee. l never thought that
Subcommittee or the Bill they were talking about had any authority over the
coalminers and lung disease. There were
so many injuries and fatalities at that time in the mines due to inadequate
health and safety measures.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I
suppose that was the first time I did any advocacy work, trying to explain to
congressman the problems miners had. The
next year the miners had their annual convention in <st1:city w:st="on">Denver</st1:city>, the fall of '68. Those miners came back from that convention
with a strong determination to change laws.
Dr. Lorin Kerr, who had been concerned about coal miners' lung disease
for many years, gave a talk at the convention. That was the spark that really
got it going. They began to organize for
changes in the workers compensation laws and an election was coming up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The
miners wanted the House and Senate to talk to Dr. I. E. Buff who had been
talking about lung disease for some time as it related to the coal
industry. He was drawing a lot of
attention to the problems. There was
also a group of local union presidents that came to my office and asked me to
speak to and for the miners in the workers compensation cases and they begin to
invite me, Buff and Wells to their organization meetings.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
After
that we were known as a circus; Buff and Wells were great entertainers. I was shocked at what Buff would do. He would thunder out, <b>"Y'all got black lung and y'all gonna die!"<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It
was an interesting act to try to follow.
Wells was the one who had gotten the dry inflated lung tissue from Dr.
Lorin Kerr and he would crunch this stuff up and let it fall to the floor and
say<b>, "That is what is happening to
your brothers' lungs."</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Buff
would come with an oxygen tank and mask and a white hat and black hat. He would tell the miners about the
legislators, "They wear their black hat when they talk to coal
operators. He would wear the oxygen tank
and oxygen mask and roar this when talking to miners<b>, "This is what you will end up wearing."</b> That was quite an experience.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
In
November 1968 the mine at Mannington blew up.
This focused the whole county on the mine issue. It was obvious they needed laws to address
safety and health of the coal miners nationwide. Legislation was needed for workers
compensation to become more fair for the miners.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
They
kept that up at rallies and really what they did over Christmas and New Years
in 1968 and 69 at Cabin Creek, they organized the Black Lung Association. A large percentage of the miners in the state
belonged to the organization.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
They
hired a lawyer. The first President of
the Black Lung Association was Charles Brooks, a black miner, who began working
in the mines in 1941. He mortgaged his
home to get a down payment for a lawyer.
Paul Kauffman was the lawyer; Paul had been a <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state> state senator in 1968. He ran for governor and lost. I campaigned for Paul. That was the first time I had done anything
like that. His son is Circuit Judge in <st1:city w:st="on">Charleston</st1:city>, Todd
Kauffman. Paul basically wrote the provisions for the Black Lung
Association. (Paul, his wife and another
son were killed by a drunk driver in the '80s).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Warren
McGraw who was a West Virginia House of Delegates member at the time, also,
wrote a model and was very instrumental in the passing of what the Black Lung
Association wanted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At
any rate, The Black Lung Association lobbied in the state capitol. They had
representatives from all over the state.
The miners had some of the lung tissue from Dr. Lorin Kerr and they
carried it around in a coffin with a sign <b>"Black
Lung Kills."</b> Basically, they
polled every member of the House and Senate.
They were complimented by some of the most conservative news media
because they were said to have not even overturned an ash tray.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
They
were orderly; this subsequently culminated in some big rallies held all over
the state. Eventually, in <st1:city w:st="on">Charleston</st1:city>
they had the combined House and Senate Judicial hearings in which three groups
participated.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The
United Mine Workers President, Tony Boyle, opposed the legislation. He even sent a delegate from <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Washington</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">D.C.</st1:state></st1:place>
in an attempt to dissuade the Black Lung Association in going on with their
proposal. Kaufman put a stop to that by debating an attorney
they had chosen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When
the hearings started, The Black Lung Association had some of us testify on
their behalf. The coal operators had
experts to testify. The group The United
Miners Workers had selected included the renowned radiologist, Dr. Eugene
Prendergrass. They looked at the lung disease X-rays from Phil Jetrow Gough
from <st1:country-region w:st="on">Great Britain</st1:country-region>
who had done the pioneer work on coal workers lung disease. Leon Cander at one time had been Governor
Scranton's Chief of Lung Disease in <st1:state w:st="on">Pennsylvania</st1:state>. At that time he was professor of medicine and
physiology in <st1:city w:st="on">San Antonio</st1:city>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The
testimonies of these three were 100% in favor of what the members of The Black Lung Association proposed.
Afterward they rebroadcast the hearing. That night <st1:country-region w:st="on">Leon</st1:country-region> came to
the hotel and he was saying, <b>"We
won!" "We won!" "We won!"<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
At
any rate, we all felt so happy and satisfied by that hearing. Guess what?
They claimed the transcript had been lost and they came out with a new
proposal that was worse than what the miners had been living under.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Kauffman
and McGraw started scrambling to get something but that was not quick
enough. The miners started walking out
all over the state. They agreed to
adopt some of the provisions the Black Lung Association wanted. The most significant was the
"Presumption Clause" which said that if someone had worked ten years
or more in the mines subjected to dust exposure, you didn't need X-rays.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
They
keep trying to bend that all the time.
That has helped a good many miners by having that "Presumption
Clause" in there. It has been
valuable to coal miners. When Governor
Moore signed that bill the miners went back to work.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<st1:date day="30" month="7" w:st="on" year="2002"><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">July 30, 2002</span></st1:date><span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> - second interview, <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Sophia</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state></st1:place>: This interview took place after <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Quecreek</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Pennsylvania</st1:state></st1:place>,
mine disaster which occurred on <st1:date day="25" month="7" w:st="on" year="2002">July 25, 2002</st1:date> resulting in miners trapped underground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .1in; margin-right: .1in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;"> We
talked about the Quecreek rescue and Dr. Rasmussen told me he was not
surprised the miners were still alive.
I asked him about the rumors of inadequate mapping as the possible
fault for the cutting in of the abandoned adjacent mine. He told me in many cases the mapping is
fine - sometimes coal operators instruct the miners to go beyond the lines on
the map.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Dr. Rasmussen told me the following stories about miners he knew.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
One
story was about a miner who was involved in a mining accident, both legs were
cut off - at that time there was no workmen's compensation or unemployment and
he had to support his family, he made a cart with wheels, rolled himself into
the mines and continued to shovel coal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We
talked about the role of the coal operator and the concept of
"Paternalism" brought about by coal camp life with the coal operator
controlling the life of the miner and his family; I was disturbed by this revealing statement -
"Yes, they depended on the coal operator for everything-in many cases the
miners were treated no better than slaves."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I
remember a story, he said, "A miner living in a coal-camp, his sister
died. She lived in another town. He needed a cash advance to go to her
funeral. The coal company required he
report all his assets, everything he owned; when the coal company officials
found out he had a cook stove in his house not purchased at the company story,
they denied the salary advance and the brother was unable to attend the
funeral."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
His
wife Carmen came into the kitchen where we were working and she told me she
came from a family of coal miners. She
said that her grandfather worked in the coalmines, underground. He was in a mining accident and got both his
legs cut off. She said that her
grandparents never wanted her father to work in the mines.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>What kept you involved in this movement?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The
thing that motivated me-I could see the injustice done to coal miners in the
workers' compensation arena because some of the miners I had may not have had
enough X-rays to satisfy people in those positions who had a say; so those miners
were denied Black Lung benefits. We had
a big fight on hand. We knew, based on
studies from <st1:country-region w:st="on">Britain</st1:country-region>,
we could cut down on lung disease by cutting down on the dust the miners were
exposed to in the mines. This has been
known for hundred of years. So the
proposition has been made repeatedly over the years to take measures to cut
down on the dust in the mines.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I
wanted to get laws passed for the miners, but I never voluntarily pushed myself
out. I was invited to come and testify
before the Congressional Committee in D.C.
I did not voluntarily push myself out and I never considered myself an
advocate; I only did the work I knew was correct. I saw the miners who needed help; I never
felt I was leading a charge. I just told
of my own experiences and went on from that position. Everything I did and said was from the
laboratory and that is basically the same thing that happens now on a daily
basis. I do stick up for miners who have
impairment and so I back up the same thing I say. So basically, that is what I do. That is part of my normal duty-to take care
of my patients in whatever capacity needed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I
don't know exactly how the miners began their progress toward getting Black
Lung Legislation; maybe it was through the directions from Ken Hechler or John
Cline. John Cline was one of the
original <st1:place w:st="on">VISTA</st1:place> (Volunteers in Service to <st1:country-region w:st="on">America</st1:country-region>)
workers which began in 1964. John Cline
had worked for years helping people. He
finally decided to go to law school and had recently graduated and I heard has
begun his own law practice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Craig
Robinson, (you have to talk to Craig Robinson-get his story for your project)
he actually had been working with poor
people and many were displaced miners and disenfranized miners who were members
of the UMWA (United Mine Workers of
America) whose benefits had been
illegally and improperly withheld He was
interested in the Black Lung legislation.
He met with miners who should
have been retired and receiving benefits; but because of the lack of
legislation, they were denied. They
talked about what should be in the bill for coal miners. He worked along with Rick Banks. They even began formulating a Bill. They enlisted the help of Delegate Warren
McGraw. (You need to interview Warren
McGraw, he is now Chief Justice) He worked very hard in getting the Act of 1969
with changes in West Virginia Workers Compensation Law.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The
Black Lung Association hired Paul Kaufman, an attorney, to write a model bill
and to get it introduced; he consulted with those of us involved in the Black
Lung Association. Paul knew the ropes on
how to get bills introduced into the legislation because he was a former
senator himself; so he knew the mechanism. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Well,
I guess it was "politics" because it was funny that the bill was
delayed and the two groups that Craig had been working with joined together and
so they put forth the bill. Craig
Robinson and John Cline were principal guys in that work in getting that
important Bill passed. They were also
strong advocates for the Federal Mine Health and Safety Act.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Craig
along with Dr. Daniel Doyle built that up, that clinic as one of the most
effective, strong clinics in operation.
Craig knew everything about that place.
He knew everything, all the records, who was to be paid; they were
always trying to improve the image of the place. He is sorta like my boss now. He is doing the same thing at my
clinic-trying to salvage it, to keep it
from going under financially. Craig can
do it, if anyone can. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
John
Cline stayed around here and worked at various community service jobs. He became a great advocate lobbying for coal
miners in their attempts for federal benefits and worked out of New River
Clinic for a long time. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>What about your clinic, what is going on, can it be saved?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
What
became the Southern West Virginia Clinic in 1964 was founded when UMWA Welfare
and Retirement Fund sold the clinics and hospitals they funded in <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state>, <st1:state w:st="on">Virginia</st1:state> and <st1:state w:st="on">Kentucky</st1:state> to a non-profit
group Regional Health Care.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
When
that happened, most of the doctors who had been here formed the clinic. There was not adequate space at the hospital
so in 1967 they built this building.
Some of the original doctors are still there at the clinic - Yates and
Maiola, they are still here and they came here before I did in 1962.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>What were the other
guys like, Buff and Wells, did you get along and what has happened to them?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Wells
is alive and living in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Martinsburg</st1:city>,
<st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state></st1:place>. Buff is dead. We were like a group. I had known Wells since 1964 when he came as
a doctor for the public health service.
He grew up here. His father was a
professor at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Concord</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">College</st1:placetype></st1:place>. Wells is the kind of guy you can get into a
real fight with and the next day everything is fine. He is a likeable guy. You should talk with Wells. He did some of
the early pathology work in this country along with Lorin Kerr.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Were you ever in danger or were you threatened?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
There
were some times when a few threats were made but that was primarily during the
United Mine Workers election in 1969.
Following the election and actually two weeks after the election,
Hechler called me up and said, "I miss those rallies. Yes, let's have another rally, a post rally."</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We
organized a post rally at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Sophia</st1:placename>
<st1:placename w:st="on">High School</st1:placename></st1:place>, near <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beckley</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">WV</st1:state></st1:place>. Quite a big crowd of people came. Hechler came a little late and a car with
three passengers was parked in the path between the sidewalk and the high
school front door. Ken walked over to
the car. It was those men who later
murdered Yablonski. They had Ken on their
list to murder, and they had been following him all the time. It is amazing. The sad part is they didn't have to pay
hardly any money to get those guys to do this.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I
was with Yablonski at every rally he had between <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Fairmont</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state></st1:place>
and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Pikeville</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Kentucky</st1:state></st1:place>. At every single rally. I would do it again. Yablonski, I thought and still do think he
would have done things differently. He
would have made a strong Union president.
He would have picked the union up.
If only Yablonski had not been murdered.
Two districts in Eastern Kentucky, one in Virginia and several in West
Virginia and Ohio and Pennsylvania-that is where the Yablonskis lived-in a nice
place in southwest Pennsylvania, that is where they were killed. murdered in
their own home in 1969.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It
didn't take long for the law enforcement to arrest the murderers because they
had been casing the place and had people writing down the license plate numbers
of people coming through the area. I
think it was only the next day, and that made us more determined than ever to
form the Miners for Democracy. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt;">Mr.
and Mrs. Joseph "Jock" Yablonski are shown in early December 1969,
just before the Dec. 9 United Mine Workers election. Yablonski was challenging
W.A. "Tony" Boyle for the presidency. Yablonski lost, but was
contesting the election when he, his wife and their daughter were murdered on
New Year's Eve as they slept in their <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Clarksville</st1:city>,
<st1:state w:st="on">Pa.</st1:state></st1:place>, farmhouse. Boyle denied any
connection to the five thugs charged with the murders. Then in March 1971,
Boyle canceled a trip to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Charleston</st1:place></st1:city>
because he had been indicted for embezzling union funds and making illegal
political contributions. Shortly after he was convicted on those charges, Boyle
was charged with paying the assassins $20,000 to execute Yablonski. He tried to
kill himself. Eventually, Boyle was convicted and sentenced to three life
sentences. He died in 1985 at the age of eighty three</span>.</div>
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Pete McCall (standing), United Mine Workers Journalist, interviews Dr. Don
Rasmussen for Journal - photo: July,
2002<br />
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</span><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;">Rasmussen (seated), a long-time champion
for black lung victims, was honored by the UMWA membership at the District 17
executive board meeting Dec. 13, 2002 at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Twin Falls Park</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">WV</st1:state></st1:place>. He was recognized for his efforts in the
1960s and '70s in leading the fight for black lung legislation and his
continued dedication to coal miners.
President Roberts presented Dr. Rasmussen with a plaque of
appreciation and designated him an honorary member of the UMWA. Looking
on: District 17 President Joe
Carter, IEB member Bernard Evans, Secretary-Treasurer Harold Hayden and
Carmen Rasmussen, the doctor's wife.<br />
(Photo, July, 2002) - Photo: Pete McCall, UMW Journalist<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-5709077130013655112013-05-17T22:21:00.000-04:002013-05-17T22:21:03.107-04:00Scotland National Library selects books on Appalachia by Betty Dotson-Lewis for International Collection<br />
<h1 style="background: white; margin-top: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Scotland
National Library selects West Virginia Writer, Betty Dotson-Lewis (B. L. Dotson-Lewis), books on
Appalachia due to their connection to Scottish and Scots-Irish Culture and
History</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%;"><br />
<br />
Books selected by Scotland National Library for International Collection </span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%;">“</span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Appalachia-Triumphant-B-L-Dotson-Lewis/dp/0741418746/ref=la_B007YMHFBE_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1368721068&sr=1-4"><span style="color: #996633; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Appalachia: Spirit Triumphant</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; line-height: 115%;">”</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">“</span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sago-Mine-Disaster-Featured-Story/dp/0741434784/ref=la_B007YMHFBE_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1368721068&sr=1-1"><span style="color: #996633; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">Sago
Mine Disaster (Featured Story): Appalachian Coalfield Stories</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">”</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.5pt;">“</span></span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sunny-Side-Appalachia-Bluegrass-Grassroots/dp/0741448459/ref=la_B007YMHFBE_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1368721068&sr=1-2"><span style="color: #996633; font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt;">The
Sunny Side of Appalachia: Bluegrass from the Grassroots</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal;">”</span></h1>
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Images from Appalachia<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTsF-MZB9mSm5iaOZXJeFR0OCyRWDBkyiacqVpwmNdniKMcjdacBCjVvFusMeVowAitrem-MtAFswLbqvlYygmB0WhhNoLIfVt5xqVbw3D_dEttO5ikY25hWCTyVmESq7yMHZ11rAaAXU/s1600/collage+for+Prince+of+Scots+with+both.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTsF-MZB9mSm5iaOZXJeFR0OCyRWDBkyiacqVpwmNdniKMcjdacBCjVvFusMeVowAitrem-MtAFswLbqvlYygmB0WhhNoLIfVt5xqVbw3D_dEttO5ikY25hWCTyVmESq7yMHZ11rAaAXU/s1600/collage+for+Prince+of+Scots+with+both.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Letter from Author:</span></div>
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<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Hi Y’all,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">My name is Betty Dotson-Lewis. I am a writer from Summersville, West
Virginia (Appalachia). My grandfather was William Basil Young of Southwest
Virginia and of Scottish descent. I
grew up in the Appalachian coalfields surrounded by the best people in the
world with popular Scottish surnames such as; Smith, Brown, Wilson, McDaniel,
McKenzie, Burnett, Ritchie, McQueen, Kincaid, McMillan, Akins and on and
on. These are the people in my books.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">So, I wanted you to know that we,
the descendants of the Scottish and Scots-Irish, are still here, in these
secluded hollows and windswept ridges of the Appalachian Mountains where our
tough and resilient ancestors first settled. Appalachia is where you can get close to your
Scottish roots on this side of the Atlantic and acquainted with your kin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Our Scottish and Scots-Irish
ancestors fled to America because of political and religious persecution. These
settlers who made that long, hard journey across the ocean in the 1700s, often
sick or starving, brought little or no material baggage, but they did bring
their cultural baggage, which included the many ballads, stories, and
instrumental tunes from their own heritage. Fiddle tunes with bows dusted in
kitchen flour fill the air on any given Sunday after church when clans gather.
They brought with them their severe and stubborn reputation and their brand of
Protestantism which has served as the foundation for our Baptist and Methodist
faiths today. They brought a talent for
making corn whiskey (moonshine) to go along with their distaste for government.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Most landed in Philadelphia where
they intended to settle but soon they discovered the good farm land was already
taken, and they disliked the British Colonial government as much as the one
they had left behind. Thus, the immigrants left Philly and headed west and
south settling in the Appalachian Mountains becoming some of the first white setters in
that region. The green valleys and highlands not only provided a remote haven
and a barrier to the outside world, but reminded the Scotch and Scots-Irish of
their homes in the Old World.<br />
<br />
Take care,<br />
Betty Dotson-Lewis (B. L. Dotson-Lewis,
WV Writer)<br />
lewis_betty@hotmail.com<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; tab-stops: 1.75in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">********************************<br />
About my books:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="ecxmsonormal" style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">My books are devoted to documenting and</span><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"> understanding Appalachian culture and values
and passing down the heritage. Readers will be fascinated by numerous
first-person interviews with the Scots-Irish settlers and other immigrants who
have struggled through coal mine tragedies, union wars, floods, family feuds,
industrialization and de-industrialization to help form the modern Appalachia.
There are prescriptions for reform, celebrations of things that are worth preserving
in the modern world. A unique portrait
of mountain people is painted in their own words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cooper Black","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Journey into our world of Appalachia- A place both
physical and spiritual <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Cooper Black","serif";">Books may
be ordered from:<br />
</span><b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> (www.) Amazon, Barnesandnoble, WV Book Co. in
Charleston, WV, </span></b><a href="http://www.buybooksontheweb.com/"><b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">www.buybooksontheweb.com</span></b></a><b><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%;">, booksamillion.com, Tamarack in
Beckley, West Virginia, etc. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="color: maroon; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Selected works by this
author:</span></b><span style="color: maroon; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;">1 . <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVkfb_7tAFOir-tPhBBSvRjonANXAymEwu7aved1PfOJnep3faSmyDdDGn6wonLtBqtVprNF-4hZpokoSUN9_I-dTUnNFYUmCvaco0aK5cnkGCq5A_Z00-yKOsFJaCoC8B4BkMxJoaFg/s1600/Appalachia,+Spirit+Triumphant+for+prince+of+scots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVkfb_7tAFOir-tPhBBSvRjonANXAymEwu7aved1PfOJnep3faSmyDdDGn6wonLtBqtVprNF-4hZpokoSUN9_I-dTUnNFYUmCvaco0aK5cnkGCq5A_Z00-yKOsFJaCoC8B4BkMxJoaFg/s1600/Appalachia,+Spirit+Triumphant+for+prince+of+scots.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.buybooksontheweb.com/product.aspx?ISBN=0-7414-1874-6"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Appalachia: Spirit
Triumphant </span></b></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
A book filled with numerous first-person interviews; those individuals
who lived and worked in the southern Appalachian coalfields. All of the
events that have formed Appalachia today </span><a href="http://www.buybooksontheweb.com/product.aspx?ISBN=0-7414-1874-6"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">read more</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
by <i>B. L. Dotson-Lewis </i>~ 0-7414-1874-6 ©2004<br />
<b>Price: </b></span><b><span style="color: maroon; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;">$18.95 </span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.buybooksontheweb.com/product.aspx?ISBN=0-7414-3478-4"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Sago Mine Disaster
(Featured Story): Appalachian Coalfield Stories </span></b></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
My goal as a resident of the Appalachian coalfields and as a writer is to
capture the spirit of these people, their pride, work ethics, strong
religious convictions, traditions and love for these mountains. </span><a href="http://www.buybooksontheweb.com/product.aspx?ISBN=0-7414-3478-4"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">read more</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
by <i>B. L. Dotson-Lewis </i>~ 0-7414-3478-4 ©2007<br />
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<a href="http://www.buybooksontheweb.com/product.aspx?ISBN=0-7414-4845-9"><b><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Sunny Side of
Appalachia: Bluegrass from the Grassroots </span></b></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
There is no short description available for this title. </span><a href="http://www.buybooksontheweb.com/product.aspx?ISBN=0-7414-4845-9"><span style="color: #990000; font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">read more</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
by <i>B. L. Dotson-Lewis </i>~ 0-7414-4845-9 ©2008<br />
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*********************<br />
co-author of “The Girl From Stretchneck Holler, Inside Appalachia” by Betty Dotson-Lewis and Kathleen Colley Slusher (novel - fiction) --- not included in Scotland National Library selection<br /><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Stretchneck-Holler-Inside-Appalachia-ebook/dp/B007UIYD8A">http://www.amazon.com/Stretchneck-Holler-Inside-Appalachia-ebook/dp/B007UIYD8A</a>
-- print copy also available</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-52541823390953725122012-11-15T16:12:00.001-05:002013-12-28T13:38:39.452-05:00Black Lung - Dr. Donald Rasmussen, a Doctor Devoting his life to defeat Black Lung<br />
Dr. Donald Rasmussen<br />
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Dr. Donald Rasmussen, a Doctor Devoting His Life to Defeating Black Lung<br />
Interviewed by Betty Dotson-Lewis<br />
<br />
Oral History Interview with Dr. Donald L. Rasmussen<br />
<br />
The story of the coal miners' struggle in obtaining black lung benefits as well as the events leading up to Jock Yablonski, his wife and daughter's brutal murder during his bid for President of the United Miners Workers of America.<br />
<br />
(Introductory comments by friends and associates)<br />
<br />
Sherry Williams, August 6, 2002, Beckley, WV<br />
In 1975 Dr. Rasmussen helped my mother get her black lung. My father died when he was 51 years old. Dr. Rasmussen performed an autopsy and that was instrumental in my mother getting black lung. He has been instrumental in getting hundreds and hundreds of coalminers their black lung. He is not only a number one doctor. He is a number one person.<br />
<br />
Cecil Roberts, UMWA (United Miners Workers of America) President - August, 2002<br />
As a champion for human rights, Dr. Donald Rasmussen helped spearhead the fight waged by the United Mine Workers of America and other advocates to compensate victims of black lung and prevent further victimization. As a leading expert on pulmonary disease, he helped change the way that America's medical profession views this disease. Through his extensive research on black lung, he was able to dispel the mythology spewed by operator-hired doctors, who often claimed the disease resulted from smoking instead of coal dust. As an outspoken advocate for justice, he played a key role in shaping laws that provide compensation and benefits for black lung victims, including thousands of UMWA members, in West Virginia and across America.<br />
<br />
Alan Derickson, Penn St. Professor and author, Black Lung: Anatomy of a Public Health Disaster<br />
Donald Rasmussen made a singular and extremely important contribution to the historic efforts to compensate victims of black lung and to prevent further victimization. All those who care about this issue and, beyond that, about a human society are deeply in his debt.<br />
<br />
Mike Clark. Yellowstone National Park, Heritage Foundation, August, 2002<br />
Please pass on to Dr. Rasmussen my warmest personal regards. I have few heroes left -- perhaps a legacy of growing older in America -- but he is one of my heroes and I admire him enormously. His work remains for me the outstanding example of a medical doctor in Appalachia responding to a region-wide crisis, bringing his medical expertise and moral judgment to bear on the problem, and then helping ordinary people and their union work to solve the problem.<br />
<br />
His expertise on black lung and his willingness to help thousands of victims and their families improved the lives of miners throughout the country. All of us who care about coal miners and the coal mining regions of the United States are forever indebted to him for his service, his humanity, and his leadership over the past thirty years.<br />
<br />
During my time at Highlander and in the years since, I have often been reminded of his unique role and his leadership in bringing about reforms in the coal industry and in public health for rural people in this country. I remember his willingness to not only help coal miners, but to also educate other industrial workers about hazards in the workplace.<br />
<br />
For example, once at a Highlander workshop for textile workers suffering from brown lung, Dr. Rasmussen made the long drive to Highlander and spent a day with about thirty disabled textile workers. At the end of the day, one leader in the group, with tears in her eyes, told me -- "That's the first doctor I've ever met who told us the truth about why we can't breathe and who has helped us figure out what to do about it."<br />
<br />
Those workers went on to gain some degree of compensation for their disease in North and South Carolina because of what Dr. Rasmussen taught them that day.<br />
I think this kind of story could be repeated again and again about the good doctor. Please convey to him my complete admiration for his career and my thanks for all he has done for working people in this country.<br />
<br />
Sophia, West Virginia<br />
July, 2002<br />
During an oral history interview with a coalminer suffering from black lung, I learned that Dr. Donald Rasmussen was still in the Appalachian area. I wrote a letter to him explaining the purpose of my website and sent him copies of several stories I had collected from coal miners. I asked him for an oral history interview to capture the story of the miners' struggle in obtaining black lung benefits; as well as the events leading up to Jock Yablonski, his wife and daughter's, brutal murder during his bid for President of the United Miners Workers of America.<br />
<br />
Two weeks passed, no call, no letter, nothing from Dr. Rasmussen-I was becoming a little skeptical, a little worried I would not get this great story-then one day, I was busy working at my desk in the early afternoon around two p.m. when my phone rang; it was Dr. Rasmussen. We spoke briefly and he agreed to an oral history interview<br />
<br />
I was so excited I immediately emailed friends out of the region who are familiar with Dr. Rasmussen's work; Branscome, NYC; Hall, DC; Clark, Montana; Derickson, Penn St. I quickly wrote Ken Hechler a letter. Then, I told everyone in the office, Dr. Rasmussen is giving me an oral history oral. I was the lucky one.<br />
<br />
He invited me to come to his home in Sophia, WV on the following Tuesday around 5:30 pm. (same coal camp town where Sen. Robert C. Byrd grew up). I left for Sophia on that Tuesday right after work heading toward Sophia, WV on Robert C. Byrd Drive. At exit 42, the sign said "keep right for Sophia."<br />
<br />
I arrived in Sophia, a typical southern Appalachian coal mining town. At the stop light, I turned right instead of left and realized I was lost. Pulled over to the side and waved to a town cop, who immediately came to my rescue. When I asked him for directions to Dr. Rasmussen's home, he just said, "Follow me." It was probably two blocks away. A home for Dr. Rasmussen in the heart of the Southern Appalachian coalfields of West Virginia.<br />
<br />
I was greeted warmly by Dr. Rasmussen, his beautiful wife, Carmen, their dog and two of their 6 cats.<br />
<br />
<strong>How did you get here and become involved in the coal miners' struggles?</strong><br />
<br />
Rasmussen -"The Journal of American Medical Association classified ad in October, 1962 read, - "Doctors Needed in Beckley, West Virginia, at the Miners Memorial Hospital"<br />
<br />
"I came to look around and never left." - Dr. Donald Rasmussen, Black Lung Specialist, told me.<br />
<br />
<strong>When did you become an advocate for the coalminers and their families?</strong><br />
<br />
Rasmussen -I was merely caring for my patients. It was all in the scope of my job, I never considered the work I did as anything beyond what my job called for in caring for my patient. I never used the term "advocate" to describe myself-just a physician performing my duty. Unfortunately not a lot has changed for the coal miner, maybe some in the areas of safety and health improvements have been made.<br />
<br />
<strong>Where did you grow up, was it near West Virginia?</strong><br />
<br />
Rasmussen -I was born in the southern part of Colorado in a little place called Manassa, just north of the New Mexico state line on the banks of the Conejas River, close to a town called Alamosa, between Trinidad and Durango.<br />
<br />
When I was five, my family left there and moved to Ft. Collins where my father went to veterinary school. I attended school in Ft. Collins through the first three grades; when my dad got out of school we moved to Ogden, Utah where my dad's brother had a veterinary practice.<br />
<br />
We lived there in Ogden up to my junior year in high school. We moved to Logan, Utah, where I finished high school and pre-med in college. So, I was not born in West Virginia but many miles away.<br />
<br />
<strong>Where did you complete your education?</strong><br />
<br />
Rasmussen -I did my undergraduate work at Utah State University at Logan, Utah. I then went to medical school in Salt Lake City at the University of Utah. I graduated in 1952 I interned at the University of Minnesota and then spent one year at the University of Utah and two years at Letterman General Army Hospital in San Francisco. I had one year of pulmonary residency at Fitzsimmons General Hospital in Colorado.<br />
<br />
I was in the Army in 1955 and stayed until 1962. I was in the Army for some of my training at Letterman and Fitzsimmons Army Hospitals. I was in the Army between Korea and Vietnam serving initially at Ft. Ord, California. Then I was assigned to Fitzsimmons as Chief of TB and then Chief of Chest Services at Brookside Hospital at Ft. Sam, Houston, Texas.<br />
<br />
When I got out of the army and I was looking for a place to practice medicine, I ran across an ad in JAMA (Journal of American Medical Association),"Doctors needed in Beckley, West Virginia at the Miners Memorial Hospital." They were going to pay my way out and back. I came in October 1962 just to look around and I never left.<br />
<br />
I liked what I saw, the facility and the people. I was very much impressed with the medical staff at the Miners Memorial Hospital in Beckley in 1962. They had, for example, a pulmonary specialist. He was Robert Hyatt and he subsequently went to the Mayo Clinic and eventually became the director of the Mayo Clinic's Pulmonary Function.<br />
<br />
(Author's note: I spoke with Dr. Hyatt on the phone at his cabin in northern Minnesota after Dr. Rasmussen told me that he had originally practiced at the Miners Memorial Hospital. He has just retired after three decades of work at the Mayo Clinic. I also learned that Dr. Hyatt supervised doctors at Ground Zero; to help diagnose rescue workers suffering from respiratory problems at the site of the September 11 attacks - Dr. Hyatt told me he was leaving Miners Memorial Hospital when Dr. Rasmussen came on board but he did remember him well. Dr. Hyatt said he had visited the area two years ago looking for the little state police headquarters converted to a house he and his family occupied while living in Beckley. He told me that his daughter attended college in Blacksburg, VA. Finally, Dr. Hyatt said that he could never forget the beauty of the region but was appalled by what he saw happening with mountaintop removal.)<br />
<br />
Rasmussen -We had a pathologist who was interested in cytopathology. We had a<br />
Cardiologist who had done a lot of work on cardiac rhythm who later was working with George Washington Medical Center. A medical center was dedicated to him. We had others who were excellent, plus the situation was comfortable with the closeness of the staff and the salary was attractive. I also liked the idea of caring for the coal miners. I was impressed. I never regretted coming to the hospital. I was fascinated by the work.<br />
<br />
When I came, I had no knowledge about coal miners' lung disease, black lung. I did not come for that but I began to see a lot of miners who had trouble with their lungs and breathing. I became more interested and began to study the cases. They had definite shortness of breath. Even the X-rays did not show very much.<br />
<br />
Breathing studies might not show much either but we had seen a lot of different types of lung disease at Fitzsimmons. The patient may not show shortness of breath until they exercised. Normally these people would show a drop in oxygen in the blood.<br />
<br />
I was able to persuade the hospital to get a gas analyzer and I guess the first coal miner that we exercised and drew blood from showed the same kind of abnormalities we had seen in unusual lung disease cases in hospitals where I trained in Denver and San Antonio.<br />
<br />
For example, here was a guy, a coal miner, who complained of shortness of breath. His breathing test was normal, but through the exercise studies we were able to determine a respiratory problem. We found a fair number of those with shortness of breath with abnormalities and function and that was very interesting. I did not come here to do lung disease, but this really got me interested. I was fascinated by these cases.<br />
<br />
Later, I quit my job with the Miners Hospital and spent two years in the public health services. I was doing the same type of studies though, and I traveled throughout the Appalachian coalfields supervising two field teams evaluating Appalachian coalminers. I was able to continue to do the exercise studies while I was in the public health field.<br />
<br />
To date we have evaluated approximately 50,000 coalminers for black lung disease. About forty percent of those who have come to us show some evidence of the disease. We continue to find the same abnormalities, as well as miners with COPD.<br />
<br />
What I began to do after public health service-was to write reports for some of these men for social security disability and others who were filing workers compensation claims as a result of respiratory problems. I actually spent a lot of time being cross examined as an expert witness. I would go to Charleston and testify and be cross-examined.<br />
<br />
Also, I have served as an expert witness before federal judges in Washington, DC or in many cases the attending physician in cases relating to Black Lung claims such as the appeal case of Mildred Clovis, widow of Everett Clovis vs. FMC Mining Equipment Division, Decision issued, December 22, 2000). These cases usually involve the awarding of a miner or his widow benefits and then the coal operator tries to take those benefits away. These cases are heard by Federal Appeals Judges.<br />
<br />
Then in 1968 Dr. Hawey Wells, a pathologist in the public health service, who was working at Johnstown, PA., (had been working in Washington, D.C. with Congress) invited me and three coal miners to come to Washington and testify before the Judicial Subcommittee. l never thought that Subcommittee or the Bill they were talking about had any authority over the coalminers and lung disease. There were so many injuries and fatalities at that time in the mines due to inadequate health and safety measures.<br />
<br />
I suppose that was the first time I did any advocacy work, trying to explain to congressman the problems miners had. The next year the miners had their annual convention in Denver, the fall of '68. Those miners came back from that convention with a strong determination to change laws. Dr. Lorin Kerr, who had been concerned about coal miners' lung disease for many years, gave a talk at the convention. That was the spark that really got it going. They began to organize for changes in the workers compensation laws and an election was coming up.<br />
<br />
The miners wanted the House and Senate to talk to Dr. I. E. Buff who had been talking about lung disease for some time as it related to the coal industry. He was drawing a lot of attention to the problems. There was also a group of local union presidents that came to my office and asked me to speak to and for the miners in the workers compensation cases and they begin to invite me, Buff and Wells to their organization meetings.<br />
<br />
After that we were known as a circus; Buff and Wells were great entertainers. I was shocked at what Buff would do. He would thunder out, "Y'all got black lung and y'all gonna die!"<br />
<br />
It was an interesting act to try to follow. Wells was the one who had gotten the dry inflated lung tissue from Dr. Lorin Kerr and he would crunch this stuff up and let it fall to the floor and say, "That is what is happening to your brothers' lungs."<br />
<br />
Buff would come with an oxygen tank and mask and a white hat and black hat. He would tell the miners about the legislators, "They wear their black hat when they talk to coal operators. He would wear the oxygen tank and oxygen mask and roar this when talking to miners, "This is what you will end up wearing." That was quite an experience.<br />
<br />
In November 1968 the mine at Mannington blew up. This focused the whole county on the mine issue. It was obvious they needed laws to address safety and health of the coal miners nationwide. Legislation was needed for workers compensation to become more fair for the miners.<br />
<br />
They kept that up at rallies and really what they did over Christmas and New Years in 1968 and 69 at Cabin Creek, they organized the Black Lung Association. A large percentage of the miners in the state belonged to the organization.<br />
<br />
They hired a lawyer. The first President of the Black Lung Association was Charles Brooks, a black miner, who began working in the mines in 1941. He mortgaged his home to get a down payment for a lawyer. Paul Kauffman was the lawyer; Paul had been a West Virginia state senator in 1968. He ran for governor and lost. I campaigned for Paul. That was the first time I had done anything like that. His son is Circuit Judge in Charleston, Todd Kauffman. Paul basically wrote the provisions for the Black Lung Association. (Paul, his wife and another son were killed by a drunk driver in the '80s).<br />
<br />
Warren McGraw who was a West Virginia House of Delegates member at the time, also, wrote a model and was very instrumental in the passing of what the Black Lung Association wanted.<br />
<br />
At any rate, The Black Lung Association lobbied in the state capitol. They had representatives from all over the state. The miners had some of the lung tissue from Dr. Lorin Kerr and they carried it around in a coffin with a sign "Black Lung Kills." Basically, they polled every member of the House and Senate. They were complimented by some of the most conservative news media because they were said to have not even overturned an ash tray.<br />
<br />
They were orderly; this subsequently culminated in some big rallies held all over the state. Eventually, in Charleston they had the combined House and Senate Judicial hearings in which three groups participated.<br />
<br />
The United Mine Workers President, Tony Boyle, opposed the legislation. He even sent a delegate from Washington, D.C. in an attempt to dissuade the Black Lung Association in going on with their proposal. Kaufman put a stop to that by debating an attorney they had chosen.<br />
<br />
When the hearings started, The Black Lung Association had some of us testify on their behalf. The coal operators had experts to testify. The group The United Miners Workers had selected included the renowned radiologist, Dr. Eugene Prendergrass. They looked at the lung disease X-rays from Phil Jetrow Gough from Great Britain who had done the pioneer work on coal workers lung disease. Leon Cander at one time had been Governor Scranton's Chief of Lung Disease in Pennsylvania. At that time he was professor of medicine and physiology in San Antonio.<br />
<br />
The testimonies of these three were 100% in favor of what the members of the Black Lung Association proposed. Afterward they rebroadcast the hearing. That night Leon came to the hotel and he was saying, "We won!" "We won!" "We won!"<br />
<br />
At any rate, we all felt so happy and satisfied by that hearing. Guess what? They claimed the transcript had been lost and they came out with a new proposal that was worse than what the miners had been living under.<br />
<br />
Kauffman and McGraw started scrambling to get something but that was not quick enough. The miners started walking out all over the state. They agreed to adopt some of the provisions the Black Lung Association wanted. The most significant was the "Presumption Clause" which said that if someone had worked ten years or more in the mines subjected to dust exposure, you didn't need X-rays.<br />
<br />
They keep trying to bend that all the time. That has helped a good many miners by having that "Presumption Clause" in there. It has been valuable to coal miners. When Governor Moore signed that bill the miners went back to work.<br />
<br />
<strong>July 30, 2002 - second interview, Sophia, West Virginia: This interview took place after Quecreek, Pennsylvania, mine disaster which occurred on July 25, 2002 resulting in miners trapped underground.<br />We talked about the Quecreek rescue and Dr. Rasmussen told me he was not surprised the miners were still alive. I asked him about the rumors of inadequate mapping as the possible fault for the cutting in of the abandoned adjacent mine. He told me in many cases the mapping is fine - sometimes coal operators instruct the miners to go beyond the lines on the map.<br /><br /><br /><br />Dr. Rasmussen told me the following stories about miners he knew.<br /><br />One story was about a miner who was involved in a mining accident, both legs were cut off - at that time there was no workmen's compensation or unemployment and he had to support his family, he made a cart with wheels, rolled himself into the mines and continued to shovel coal.<br /><br />We talked about the role of the coal operator and the concept of "Paternalism" brought about by coal camp life with the coal operator controlling the life of the miner and his family; I was disturbed by this revealing statement - "Yes, they depended on the coal operator for everything-in many cases the miners were treated no better than slaves."</strong> I remember a story, he said, "A miner living in a coal-camp, his sister died. She lived in another town. He needed a cash advance to go to her funeral. The coal company required he report all his assets, everything he owned; when the coal company officials found out he had a cook stove in his house not purchased at the company story, they denied the salary advance and the brother was unable to attend the funeral."<br />
<br />
His wife Carmen came into the kitchen where we were working and she told me she came from a family of coal miners. She said that her grandfather worked in the coalmines, underground. He was in a mining accident and got both his legs cut off. She said that her grandparents never wanted her father to work in the mines.<br />
<br />
<strong>What kept you involved in this movement?</strong><br />
<br />
The thing that motivated me-I could see the injustice done to coal miners in the workers' compensation arena because some of the miners I had may not have had enough X-rays to satisfy people in those positions who had a say; so those miners were denied Black Lung benefits. We had a big fight on hand. We knew, based on studies from Britain, we could cut down on lung disease by cutting down on the dust the miners were exposed to in the mines. This has been known for hundred of years. So the proposition has been made repeatedly over the years to take measures to cut down on the dust in the mines.<br />
<br />
I wanted to get laws passed for the miners, but I never voluntarily pushed myself out. I was invited to come and testify before the Congressional Committee in D.C. I did not voluntarily push myself out and I never considered myself an advocate; I only did the work I knew was correct. I saw the miners who needed help; I never felt I was leading a charge. I just told of my own experiences and went on from that position. Everything I did and said was from the laboratory and that is basically the same thing that happens now on a daily basis. I do stick up for miners who have impairment and so I back up the same thing I say. So basically, that is what I do. That is part of my normal duty-to take care of my patients in whatever capacity needed.<br />
<br />
I don't know exactly how the miners began their progress toward getting Black Lung Legislation; maybe it was through the directions from Ken Hechler or John Kline. John Kline was one of the original VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America) workers which began in 1964. John Kline had worked for years helping people. He finally decided to go to law school and had recently graduated and I heard has begun his own law practice.<br />
<br />
Craig Robinson, (you have to talk to Craig Robinson-get his story for your project) he actually had been working with poor people and many were displaced miners and disenfranized miners who were members of the UMWA (United Mine Workers of America) whose benefits had been illegally and improperly withheld He was interested in the Black Lung legislation. He met with miners who should have been retired and receiving benefits; but because of the lack of legislation, they were denied. They talked about what should be in the bill for coal miners. He worked along with Rick Banks. They even began formulating a Bill. They enlisted the help of Delegate Warren McGraw. (You need to interview Warren McGraw, he is now Chief Justice) He worked very hard in getting the Act of 1969 with changes in West Virginia Workers Compensation Law.<br />
<br />
The Black Lung Association hired Paul Kaufman, an attorney, to write a model bill and to get it introduced; he consulted with those of us involved in the Black Lung Association. Paul knew the ropes on how to get bills introduced into the legislation because he was a former senator himself; so he knew the mechanism.<br />
<br />
Well, I guess it was "politics" because it was funny that the bill was delayed and the two groups that Craig had been working with joined together and so they put forth the bill. Craig Robinson and John Kline were principal guys in that work in getting that important Bill passed. They were also strong advocates for the Federal Mine Health and Safety Act.<br />
<br />
Craig along with Dr. Daniel Doyle built that up, that clinic as one of the most effective, strong clinics in operation. Craig knew everything about that place. He knew everything, all the records, who was to be paid; they were always trying to improve the image of the place. He is sorta like my boss now. He is doing the same thing at my clinic-trying to salvage it, to keep it from going under financially. Craig can do it, if anyone can.<br />
<br />
John Cline stayed around here and worked at various community service jobs. He became a great advocate lobbying for coal miners in their attempts for federal benefits and worked out of New River Clinic for a long time.<br />
<br />
<strong>What about your clinic, what is going on, can it be saved?</strong><br />
<br />
What became the Southern West Virginia Clinic in 1964 was founded when UMWA Welfare and Retirement Fund sold the clinics and hospitals they funded in West Virginia, Virginia and Kentucky to a non-profit group Regional Health Care.<br />
<br />
When that happened, most of the doctors who had been here formed the clinic. There was not adequate space at the hospital so in 1967 they built this building. Some of the original doctors are still there at the clinic - Yates and Maiola, they are still here and they came here before I did in 1962.<br />
<br />
<strong>What were the other guys like, Buff and Wells, did you get along and what has happened to them?</strong><br />
<br />
Wells is alive and living in Martinsburg, West Virginia. Buff is dead. We were like a group. I had known Wells since 1964 when he came as a doctor for the public health service. He grew up here. His father was a professor at Concord College. Wells is the kind of guy you can get into a real fight with and the next day everything is fine. He is a likeable guy. You should talk with Wells. He did some of the early pathology work in this country along with Lorin Kerr.<br />
.<br />
<strong>Were you ever in danger or were you threatened?</strong><br />
<br />
There were some times when a few threats were made but that was primarily during the United Mine Workers election in 1969. Following the election and actually two weeks after the election, Hechler called me up and said, "I miss those rallies. Yes, let's have another rally, a post rally."<br />
<br />
We organized a post rally at Sophia High School, near Beckley, WV. Quite a big crowd of people came. Hechler came a little late and a car with three passengers was parked in the path between the sidewalk and the high school front door. Ken walked over to the car. It was those men who later murdered Yablonski. They had Ken on their list to murder, and they had been following him all the time. It is amazing. The sad part is they didn't have to pay hardly any money to get those guys to do this.<br />
<br />
I was with Yablonski at every rally he had between Fairmont, West Virginia and Pikeville, Kentucky, At every single rally. I would do it again. Yablonski, I thought and still do think he would have done things differently. He would have made a strong Union president. He would have picked the union up. If only Yablonski had not been murdered. Two districts in Eastern Kentucky, one in Virginia and several in West Virginia and Ohio and Pennsylvania-that is where the Yablonskis lived-in a nice place in southwest Pennsylvania, that is where they were killed. murdered in their own home in 1969.<br />
<br />
It didn't take long for the law enforcement to arrest the murderers because they had been casing the place and had people writing down the license plate numbers of people coming through the area. I think it was only the next day, and that made us more determined than ever to form the Miners for Democracy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Girl-From-Stretchneck-Holler/dp/1621830136/ref=tmm_pap_title_0">The Girl From Stretchneck Holler, Inside Appalachia</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-28488431373438373142012-11-12T08:49:00.000-05:002012-11-12T08:49:13.266-05:00Vietnam War Veteran<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Good Morning <st1:country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region>"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oral History
Interview with Flavie Hugh Ellison II, Vietnam War Veteran</span></div>
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<st1:place w:st="on"><span style="font-size: large;"><st1:city w:st="on">Summersville</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state></span></st1:place></div>
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<st1:place w:st="on"><span style="font-size: large;"><st1:state w:st="on">By: Betty Dotson-Lewis</st1:state></span></st1:place></div>
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<b><span style="color: grey; mso-color-alt: black; text-effect: emboss;"><span style="font-size: large;">What
are some of the lasting effects of fighting a war, in your opinion?<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I
used to be a big hunter but I don't even own a gun now, I have got deer and
rabbits running all over my property and I can't even shoot one, because I was
in a war. I was in the Vietnam War. I
don't own a gun. I saw so much
killing. I got a five gallon bucket of
rocks I throw at rabbits and deer because I can't shoot anything. I can't do it. No war movies. I can't watch any war movies
or any movies where people get killed. I
just can't do it. When I was young, I
watched all those vampire movies and everything but after the war, I can't do
it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Now
about half the guys over there, you know, I remember all their faces, but not
their names. All the guys had nicknames
and mine was "Crazy L" (L was for Ellison).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> A
good friend of mine that was over there-I haven't got a hold of since then. His
grandmother was still on the reservation I think, Okalahoma. She was full-bloodied Cherokee, and his
nickname was "Fast Eddie."
Damn, all those memories.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>What was it like growing up for you</b>?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> See,
my parents died when I was young and I walked to grade school. It was back in those days when there were no
buses for grade schools kids. I walked
three miles one way to school. It was a
two room school and the last half of my eighth grade year, I was the only one
in the eighth grade. "Talkin' small." Yeah, I was the only eighth grade
student. The other family moved
away. There was two of us at the
beginning of the year and they moved down south, so that left me the only one
in the eighth grade.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">How did you parents die?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> My
Dad-a car ran over my Dad. Three years
later, my Mom died of cancer. I may have
been ten at that time. I lived with my
one grandmother on and off for awhile.
There were seven of us kids. My
one aunt, mom's sister up in <st1:state w:st="on">Ohio</st1:state>,
took the three youngest, my oldest sister and my oldest brother were on their
own. The other aunt took my other
brother just out on <st1:street w:st="on">Cranberry Road</st1:street>
in Craigsville. My grandmother took
me. I had to cut the grass, work in the
garden. They didn't like for me to go
anywhere, and she was raising another child who had living parents.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Grandma Bessie was getting some kind of check
for me, but I never did see any of it. I
worked in the hay field for Wade Bailey and Paul Cooper for fifty cents per
hour. Then finally, things just kept
getting worse where I was staying with my grandmother. I just took off. My senior year in high school-do you know
where <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Curtin</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Bridge</st1:placetype></st1:place> is, between Craigsville and
Richwood? I lived down there. I gathered up an old blanket and a pillow from
somewhere and I slept out in the middle of a river on a flat rock. I ate a lot of fish. I fished every evening and every night. I was a senior in high school. See, that is why I didn't graduate, things
just got to the point where I couldn't buy my cap and gown and stuff, the last
two or three weeks I didn't go. Half the
kids didn't go. We weren't doing
anything and I already had my report card but they wouldn't let me
graduate. They said I dropped out which
was a crock. I just didn't go the last
two or three weeks, and when I went up there for graduation they wouldn't let
me in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Shortly
after that, I was, I think about nineteen, see I already had two older brothers
in the Service and I was tired of not having anything, Hell, I thought I will
just join the Army. I couldn't pass the
physical because of the rheumatic fever I had when I was five and six years
old. I was in the first grade that is
why I had to pull two years of the first grade.
I didn't go to school enough.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Anyway,
I went up to <st1:state w:st="on">Ohio</st1:state>,
I had aunts and uncles and relatives, I figured Hell, I will just go up there
and get a job and I did. That would have
been in '62 or '63. I worked up there a
couple of years, then I figured well, Hell, I will just go and join the
Army. I failed again. The same thing. So then I went to <st1:place w:st="on">Southern
California</st1:place>, <st1:city w:st="on">Pasadena</st1:city>;
my oldest sister was out there. I went
to work out there and I lived with them awhile until I got me enough money
gathered up to rent my own place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Well,
it was out in the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Sierra</st1:placename>
<st1:placename w:st="on">Madre</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Canyon</st1:placetype></st1:place>,
a beautiful area, at that time after I lived there awhile. I had five or six vehicles. I had license on every one of them and the
last day of December in '65 I bought a brand new motorcycles; I always loved
motorcycles. It was an English Bike, 750
Norton and I just had a good time. I got
in a little bit of trouble with the law, something they call "hit and
run," but the guy hit me. He was on
a 125 Honda.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I
still remember his name and where he was from.
His name was Abraham A.... and he was from <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Pittsburgh</st1:city>,
<st1:state w:st="on">Pennsylvania</st1:state></st1:place>, and he was 41 and
weighed 220 lbs. He looked like a monkey
on a football. A big guy on a little
cycle like that. He went clear over my car. He hit my front fender. I had a '51 Ford convertible and he went over
my car slid down the street. I jumped
out and ran down there. The traffic was
swerving trying to miss him. He knocked
one of his shoes off. I am trying to get him up and out of the road and he took
off up the street running, screaming that he couldn't walk, he couldn't
walk. I could get a hold of him but he
wouldn't stop I couldn't hold him back.
I chased him about five blocks and I walked back down the street. The law was there and the ambulance. They wanted to know where the guy was. They didn't arrest me but they put me in the
car and we drove down the street. So we
went door to door looking for this guy; somebody got him stopped had him
stretched out on the bed in there. He
was screaming, crying; he was in bad shape.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The
cops said if I would sign papers covering his motorcycle, ambulance bill and hospital bill and give him a $100.00 per week, they would not
press charges. I paid for the motorcycle
and the ambulance. They told me he would
only be off work a week. So, at the end
of the week I went down to where he was staying. He was still on the bed. He said he would have to be off another
week. That went on five weeks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I went down there to pay him at the end of the
fifth week and the neighbors came out and said, "Man, don't you know what
is going on?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I
said, "What are you talking about?"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> They
said that guy is a con artist. He had a '66
Cadillac convertible. His wife had a 66
Buick convertible and the three weeks I had been paying, he was off on vacation
from the post office. He delivered mail
on foot. So, I quit paying him. I just quit paying him. Two or three weeks went by and the law came
up to where I worked about the middle of the week. They told me they would give me till Friday
to come up with the rest of the guy's money.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Friday
was payday and I realized I had been taken all that time for my money, so I
said, "You know I am not going to pay that."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I
sold my '51 Ford convertible to my oldest brother who lived out there and I
sold my '33 Ford pickup truck and my other vehicles I just left the key in the
switch, the registration up over the sun visor and left them in the parking lot
and I jumped on a motorcycle and headed for <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state>. That was <st1:date day="22" month="7" w:st="on" year="1966">July 22, 1966</st1:date>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> That
was a fun trip. So I came to Craigsville
where I was born and raised. I fooled
around there for awhile. I remember I
got there on Sunday. I left <st1:state w:st="on">California</st1:state> on Friday
evening and I was in Craigsville on Sunday-2650 miles. Wednesday
I figured I will just go to <st1:state w:st="on">Florida</st1:state>. I had an older first cousin that lived down
there so I went down. I got there about <st1:time hour="10" minute="0" w:st="on">10 a.m.</st1:time>; she was starting to fix
dinner so I stayed and had dinner and I drank some coffee with Junior and
jumped on my bike and headed for <st1:state w:st="on">New
York</st1:state>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
had been up there before. I had worked
up there. I spent the night up there and
I started back to <st1:state w:st="on">California</st1:state>
and I got to some little one horse- town in <st1:state w:st="on">Texas</st1:state> and changed my mind and came back to <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was in <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state>
for awhile then I wound up in <st1:state w:st="on">Ohio</st1:state>. Beautiful country, a wide stop in the
road. That was where I was working when
I got drafted.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"> You were drafted after failing
the physical two times?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
stopped at a little post office every evening to get my mail. I got a long white envelope (about the last
part of June, 1968) that said "Greetings, Uncle Sam Wants You!"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
had two weeks or so. I had to go to <st1:city w:st="on">Cleveland</st1:city> about 100 miles
to take the examination and in those days that took all day. At the end of the day, I realized I had done
passed that physical and I just asked him, "Man, you know what is going
on?"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
said, "You call me sir" and I said, "I am not in the Army
yet," and he said, "You will be."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> So,
I asked him how could that be; I took two of these examinations before and
failed both of them so he looked in my records and found my name and he said,
"I see you tried to enlist."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> "You
have passed this one, we are making exceptions.
You have been drafted."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Where did you go for Basic Training?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Ft. Knox</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">Kentucky</st1:state></st1:place>,
that is where I went for Basic Training.
That was eight weeks. Graduation was on Friday and on Monday morning I
was to report for AIT (Advanced Individual Training) at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Polk</st1:placename></st1:place>.
<st1:state w:st="on">Louisiana</st1:state>.
That was nine weeks. I have a picture of
me standing in front of a sign which reads: <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Polk</st1:placename></st1:place>.
<st1:state w:st="on">Louisiana</st1:state>,
Birthplace of Combat Infantrymen for <st1:country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region>. I guess I lost the picture in the fire. It took everything I had, all my clothes, my
woodworking shop, nearly everything I owned that is how I lost one half of my
ear. (He asked me, "Did you notice one half of my right ear is
gone?") He showed me his ear.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
had two weeks time from graduation at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Polk</st1:placename></st1:place>
to be at the <st1:city w:st="on">Seattle</st1:city>,
<st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Tacoma</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Airport</st1:placetype></st1:place> in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Washington</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">State</st1:placetype></st1:place>. I was going to <st1:country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">What type of special training did you receive to prepare you for
military action in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region>?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
went over there. We touched down at
Cameron Bay, South Vietnam. I was there
three days they had what they called three day training on the ways and customs
of the people. Then they decide where
everybody is going to go. I got orders
to go up north-about 300 miles.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Did they fly you to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region>?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The
plane came down to pick us up. It was a
C130, a cargo plane; about 150 of us got on there. He had lost an engine coming down , the pilot
did. (Flavie asked me, "Do you know anything about a C130?") It had four engines. He lost one coming down but all the Army had
was junk. The pilot told us, "I
think we can take off," and we did.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> We
got up there about half way and I could notice a change in the sound of the
airplane. The co-pilot came back and said "Boys,that is what you are, if
you get out of this you might be men."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> We
lost another engine on the same wing. It won't stay up with two engines. We are ten or twelve miles inland, and we
were going to try to make it to the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">South</st1:placename>
<st1:placename w:st="on">China</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Beach</st1:placetype></st1:place>. I will never forget what he said, now mind you,
we are heading north, he said, "We are going south and that means
down."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Viet
Cong all around. We didn't have any
weapons. My God, the pilot was good. We
just barely cleared that mountain range.
He dipped it real hard to the left and put it down on the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">South</st1:placename> <st1:placename w:st="on">China</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Beach</st1:placetype></st1:place>. We hit the beach and it kinda skipped. We hit the beach again, hard, and it skipped
and we hit it again and it tore the right wing off and water was coming
in. That was the third day in the
country. That was the day my oldest son,
Scott was born, <st1:date day="12" month="12" w:st="on" year="1968">December
12, 1968</st1:date>. (Do you know my
boy?)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">What is the truth about the War in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region>, "were we prepared?"<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Eight
or ten years ago I started to write a book and I finally just gave up on it
because I figured no one will believe it anyway. Four or five years ago, I sorted through
everything from the fire, I wrote a song, when we crashed on that C130 on the
third day; the song says, "The next nine days on the run, my year in <st1:country-region w:st="on">Nam</st1:country-region> had just
begun."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The
pilot had got hold of back-up forces by radio and they sent some helicopter to
pick up some of us. They brought weapons
and sea rations.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was just in the wrong place at the wrong time; I got volunteered. Someone was going to have to stay there and guard
that C130, so they picked five of us and then we hid out up in the woods, in
the jungle on the side of the mountain.
We hid out for nine days. They
finally come down and carried that crashed C130 off with those big monsters
they call a flying crane; two of them
hovered down over and picked it up. Then I wound up going up country about
another 150 miles where I had started in the first place.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The
Army didn't make any sense in those days because I was infantry and got
assigned to an aviation battalion, 14th Aviation Battalion. Now this was all
14th Aviation Battalion and I was across the swamp with the 14th Security
Platoon but I was assigned to 170th Aviation.
Hell, I am infantry what did; I know about airplanes? Well, I found out not too long after that.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">What are some of the details of being in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region>, like living
conditions? Were things as bad as we
heard?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Mercy,
mercy, in the beginning we just had the
regular bunkers in the ground. My old
1st sergeant, good old guy, he reminded me of my dad; he took care of me; he
took care of me, that old boy did. He
saw it somewhere-got some papers on it or something-prefabs, prefab bunkers
about twenty feet off the ground and the walls and the floor and the roof were
a foot and one half thick filled up with sand.
The idea-being up above the ground you can see better up there looking
down. So, I worked with him, me and some
of the other guys and we built twelve and by that time I am already making some
rank; I think I am Spec 4 by then.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was the oldest guy there twenty five except for the Sergeant and the lifers and
I am from <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state>. Everybody knew I was from <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state>. He put me in charge of the bunkers. All the
city boys knew I was from <st1:state w:st="on">West
Virginia</st1:state>. That
is what got me in a lot of jams I got in over there. They just assumed if you lived in <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state>, you lived
under a rock cliff. I lived on a rock,
but Hell, not everybody did. A lot of
times they would send me to places they would not send a city boy because they
just figured I could do it. They knew I
was coming back.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> They
came to me one day and said that they were going to make me Acting E5, meaning I had temporary stripes and all the
responsibilities and duties of an E5, but not getting paid for it. After about a month I told them, "If I
am going in to these damn hell holes and you are expecting me to come out, I am
going to start having to get paid for E5."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> They
said, "You can't quit."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Orders
came down from the battalion and I made Permanent Party, E5 Sgt. E5 gets you
about $25.00 or $30.00 extra a month ( went over as E1 and within 24 hours if
you are in combat zone, you go automatic E Deuce).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> That
was about after nine months. You see if
I am not on them bunkers, I had another job there too. I done eight hours a day RTO (Radio,
Telephone Operator). It was in the Command Bunker underground. I pulled twelve hours a night on the Bunker
Line, then eight hrs a day in that Command Bunker, RTO. That is twenty hours a day. That only leaves four hours. Plus all the same time, I am having to fly
with these yo-yos across the swamp to 176th.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">What are some of the events you consider major that occurred while you
were in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region>?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> My
God, if I told you everything it would take all day. I am going to tell you about this.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We went way up the country
somewhere, me and those guys from 176th and, Hell, rather than the co-pilot on
a helicopter, they called him a Peter Pilot.
I am the oldest guy rather than the pilot and Peter pilot and I was
given the responsibility of being Crew Chief and Door Gunner. That was with a M60 machine gun and a 50
caliber machine gun and we went up with a full rocket load, (we were carrying
all the rockets we could carry) I think seventy eight and aired off all those
rockets on a village, a known Cong village. We are on our way back-everybody drank
beer- and we never did drink going in. Coming
out is we when would drag our beer out, pilot and peter pilot are in the
cockpit; me and the other guys are in the back.
Hell, we are jut drinking our beer and proud of ourselves for getting
out of there and swapping stories about our girlfriend or wife back in the
world (that is what we called back home, "the World").</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Here
comes the hard part; sometimes I can get through this, sometimes I can't.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Anyway,
we thought we was in the clear, but we weren't.
We took a rocket in the nose, right in the front belly, and it killed
the pilot; drove him right out of his seat.
A mess, blew him to pieces. The
peter pilot was sitting to the pilot's right.
It blew his left arm off (he showed me on his arm and it was even with
the shoulder) and he jump up with no arm and came to the back yelling;
everybody else was crying.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was the oldest, these guys are crying, it is starting to fill up with smoke and
mind you I am infantry; but these other guys are crying and squalling. I knew
they couldn't do it, so I went to the cockpit and moved what I could of the
dead pilot; he was blown all to pieces and the Peter pilot. His name was Jeff; I don't remember his last
name. Anyway, he started telling me
which lever does what, which petal does what, what gauges to keep an eye on,
what switch to flick if this happened or that happened, first time I had every
been in a cockpit in my life in a helicopter.
In a situation like that you had to fly at treetop level.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Now,
he said enough to me, he taught me how to go up or down, left or right, then he
passed out, I thought he died. I am
trying to fly this damn thing and trying to take care of him; he passed out. I
thought he died. We are running just
about 120 miles per hour. I don't know
how many miles per hour by air. It was
100 miles from back to where we were headed south, back down to the 176th and
these guys in the back are still crying. I think the peter pilot is dead, (he
wasn't but I didn't know that). I think
it was about 120miles per hour we were flying which is something less than one
hour to get down there so I start getting closer and I am starting to recognize
the country. Then, I realize I don't
know how to slow the thing down, hydraulic oil spraying everywhere, smoke
everywhere, I am getting closer and closer and I know where I have to put
down. I started working levers, pulling
switches and kicking petals. I got it slowed down to 70 or 80 miles per hour.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
knew where I was going to have to put it down because if I missed we would wind
up in that swamp and there was alligators in the swamp. So, I hit the ground at 70 or 80 miles per hour
and it just went to flopping; it finally stopped and I realized I wasn't dead
and the guys in the back, they ain't dead; they went off squalling, cussing and
running off in the woods.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
got the peter pilot out and what body parts I could find of the pilot-got them
and we may have been as far as that garage over there (showing me how far by
pointing to a garage across the street) and it blew up.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> About
a week later I was in military court because I was not supposed to be flying
that Huey. I was infantry.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> It
is just like a civilian court except it is all military. The guy was the Judge. He was Sergeant Major, something like that. They was going to court martial me because I
crashed that thing and it burned up.
They was going to charge me $250,000.
That is about less than half of what it cost new, but it was junk in the
first place. They was going to make me
sign papers to the effect they was going to take all my check except of twenty
percent. They was </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">going to take eighty percent of
my check and make me sign papers to the effect that I would stay in the Army
until that thing was paid for or I died, whichever one came first.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
told him, "Hey man, your Honor, I haven't had time to get Counsel yet, you
know a lawyer?"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
said, "I will give you two weeks."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> In
two weeks I hadn't found anybody. I
didn't have time to go too far so I went back down there by myself and they
were going to make me do all that stuff, like they said; so about that minute
this peter pilot, his name was Jeff; he found out about it someway; he showed
up, the one who lost his arm.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
told them, he said, "No, you are not going to do anything like that."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
was talking to a superior officer and he didn't know my name, he just knew
"Crazy L." My nickname, that is all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
told them, " I just want this whole thing thrown out, forgotten
about. If it had not been for
"Crazy L," we would all be dead.
It was junk anyway. They turned
me loose; I was tickled to death.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
went back up and right on the Bunker Line and right back in the Command Bunker
doing all the other too. This part here
is kinda funny and I want to tell you about it.
I didn't think it was funny then.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> We
had been out somewhere with this 176th again, only this time we are on what is
called a fixed wing, 123: we get hit
with a rocket a mortar or something and the co pilot flew the door open out of
the cockpit and started throwing parachutes at everybody-only five of us in
there. I had never seen a parachute, you know.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
said, "Man, how does this thing work?" Mind you, this airplane is coming down and
that pilot grabbed his and he said, "Watch me; you have one chance."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
said, "We are leaving this."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was the last one out because I just couldn't get that thing on. I was the last one out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> While
I was still in high school, I had jumped off the top of <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Curtin</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Bridge</st1:placetype></st1:place>
(a very high structure) nineteen times one summer and hit wrong seventeen times
in the river and it is way high too. You know where I am talking about, don't
you? So when I jumped out of that airplane in the parachute and I pulled that
ripcord, I was ticked to death when it opened.
Then I got to thinking about jumping off Curtin Bridge and hitting wrong
all those times and I was thinking, I hope I don't hit wrong this time. Well, I hit wrong because I saw I was going
to come down in the trees and I came down right in the top of a big tree and
skinned myself all up. It is funny now,
but it wasn't funny then.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> If
I had known what I was doing, you can steer those parachutes, I didn't know it
then. Luck is what I am talking
about. Another time over we got into
some trouble and had to jump out of a helicopter and there are no parachutes on
a helicopter but were lucky we were over a rice paddy. We was probably up a 100 feet and jumped,
cause it was on fire, and I am thinking the same thing. I hit
just right, straight up and down, just right.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> There
was one guy, who didn't hit right; he was tipped forward and he was out of
commission for about three weeks because of his eyes. All that stuff hit him in his eyes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">What was it like returning to the <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">United States</st1:place></st1:country-region>? Did you know about the controversy over the
War in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region>?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> When
I came home, back to the <st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region>,
I had a little old cheap camera. I took
pictures out the airplane window-the clouds and all-and happy to be alive and I
met three guys on the plane that I didn't know when I was over there but this
was leaving there and coming back here back to what we referred to as back to
"The World," "The Freedom Flight."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
met these three guys on the plane and we was going to land at the Seattle
Tacoma Airport, (same place I took off from) and me and these other guys had
our mind made up that when got off the plane, off the black top in the dirt, we
were going kneel down and kiss "Mother Earth," bend over and throw
dirt in our face and scream and holler and have a big time, a celebration.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Well,
when we started doing that a whole mob of people men and women together,
started throwing rocks at us and called us baby killers and hit one guy in the
head and hurt him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Boy
that made me mad I had a notion just to fly into them. That was our homecoming. Back to our
homeland.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">What did you do after returning from <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:place></st1:country-region>?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Then
I was going to have six months left in the Army yet, at <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Ord</st1:placename></st1:place>
in northern <st1:state w:st="on">California</st1:state>
and while I was in <st1:country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region>
they offered me a chance after I got to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Ord</st1:placename></st1:place>,
I was Sgt. E5 they offered to waive my time and grade as E5 if I would extend
my tour of duty thirty days.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> If
I had of done that I would have qualified early out, five month drop, if you
had five months or less left. After I
got to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">Ft.</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Ord</st1:placename></st1:place>, I wish I had because they put me in
to training men to go to <st1:country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region>. I taught three two hour classes every day on
how kill and how to survive in the jungles of <st1:country-region w:st="on">Nam</st1:country-region>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> When
I got out of <st1:country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region>,
hell, I was happy, when I got out of the Army I celebrated. Then I moved back
to <st1:state w:st="on">Ohio</st1:state> and
then I came back to <st1:state w:st="on">West Virginia</st1:state>
in 1975.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">What about the Vietnam War?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
don't know, you really didn't know what to think. It has had a lasting effect on me, on my
life. I still have flashbacks and nerve
problems. I learned to speak their language. My second wife said that the
reason she left me, I was beating her up at night and speaking in Vietnamese
and calling her <st1:country-region w:st="on">Nam</st1:country-region>
names. I didn't know I was doing
that. I have three appointments at the
VA Center in the next couple of months all related to the war.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Who were the victims?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Supposedly,
it was just like our Civil War in one respect the North was Communist; the
South was not. Down where I was some of
those villages (supposedly friendly villages) because they were North Vietnam
Army (NVA), Viet Cong (VC) didn't
uniforms but they were worse that the NVA.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
have two doctors' appointments this month at the Veterans hospital because of
nerve problems. I have had to have
counseling because of the war. He has
got me on some nerve pills.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was up there at the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Recruitment</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Center</st1:placetype></st1:place> and talked to Newt
McCutcheon, "Do you know Newt?"
He wrote down some stuff about what happened. I brought it for you to look over and read.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
I asked Flavie if this information could it be included in his oral
history? He said, "Yes."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Description of a life-threatening
episode that caused nervous condition - details as to the nature and severity
of the episode and when it occurred</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">(Post Traumatic Stress)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> "While
stationed with the 14th Security Platoon, Cho, Lai, Republic of South Vietnam
while on duty in the guard tower over watching the parameters of our compound I
was scanning my section which was my responsibility while using my
"Starlight Scope" (ANPUS-4) I suddenly noticed that there was a clump
of something moving outside the parameter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
quickly called the Tower to my immediate left and right to see if they could
confirm the same thing. They saw
movement as well.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
then called back to the CP and reached the ISG.
I explained to him what I had seen and told him that towers confirmed
the same thing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> ISG
said, "You know that you are in a "No-Fire" zone."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Suddenly
the Company Commander walked in the CP and asked the ISG what was going on, the
ISG turned the phone over to him and I explained what was going and that the
"clump" was getting closer and closer. The Company Commander also told me that we
were in a "No-Fire" zone as well.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
asked him what to do, and he replied, "I know what I would do if it were
me."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
acknowledged and said, "Roger Out!"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
then phoned and told them to get ready, "We are going to give whatever is
out there all we got!"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was the squad leader at the time and I was in Tower #9 (Lucky #9). I always took #9 because I felt that it was
the most crucial due to the fact that we could be hit by sea or land. The guys in Towers 8 and 10 asked me who
authorized me to engage the "Clump," and I said, "Nobody move,"
I am taking responsibility of this my own damn self. I then said that we are going to open up at
the count of "3" and we did. I
initiated fire with my M-60 machine gun, Tower #8 cut loose with the M79
grenade launcher and Tower#10 with a M-14 crap began to blow up
everywhere. The engagement lasted
approximately ten-twenty seconds and then silence.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
then looked through my "Starlight Scope" and saw nothing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was on end the rest of the night. When
daylight finally arrived we checked the perimeter and found pieces of bodies
everywhere. The best I could tell there
was about five of them and the body parts were painted the same color as the
sand. There was a lot of blood too. I was relieved from my watch. I went directly to the CP and worked there
for eight hours and then caught some sleep.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was scared and nervous and really couldn't sleep because of what had taken
place. This is how I earned my Combat
Infantryman's Badge!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Flavie
said, "I brought you a letter from a close friend of mine, I want you to
read it and tell me what you think, when you have a minute here. It is pretty personal. " He handed me the letter. I read the letter
and I asked if he would like to have it made a part of his oral history and he
said, "Most definitely"</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<st1:place w:st="on"><span style="font-size: large;"><st1:city w:st="on">Craigsville</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">WV</st1:state></span></st1:place></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">To Whom It May Concern;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I
was asked to write down what I thought were changes in Flavie Ellison's
personality after the Vietnam War.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
went into Service a nice young man and came out a person without purpose. He attended church practically every
Sunday. Now he drinks - lives to drink,
has a mouth full of 'swamp' talk that can embarrass and hurt and he doesn't
understand why. He brought back
something in his mind that won't let him leave that place.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Over
the last two years he has been through two marriages, several jobs, lots of
alcohol and living alone in a very isolated place. His isolation is self-inflicted. He doesn't want company. He has become anti-social, can't hold a job,
can't hang on to relationships and says that just gets in the way of the past.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
was in a motorcycle accident several years ago and when he woke up after being
unconscious, he had reverted back to <st1:country-region w:st="on">Vietnam</st1:country-region> - didn't know his wife at
that time. But he knew his ex wife's
name and spoke Vietnamese as his training had taught him to do. His doctor, who was a Veteran, recognized the
language and could communicate with him.
Yet, today I'll bet he couldn't consciously speak any other language but
American English.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> This,
this horror of that war has touched every aspect of his life and it still does
to this day. I personally feel that it
will keep affecting him the rest of his life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> He
was a "country" boy who was given a rifle, trained, and told to
KILL! And being a patriotic young man,
did just that. It went against his
passive nature, but he had been trained, so he now lives with what he saw and
did. Somewhere in all the blood and
death and warm beer, he put himself away to be brought back at a later
time. But he could never do it. So Sad.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">His Friend,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Shirley Farley</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-83669473534227460012012-06-19T22:02:00.003-04:002012-11-11T07:06:22.063-05:00The Girl From Stretchneck Holler, "Inside Appalachia"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rARiGqzucZ1am5r_TNLMgemK3zJy7dS6xS7R1yLK0rsukbgaY4VMcv08btZsNR9aSaGpK9z5ex-vRxKCHGsSWqAgT4fZDDdZIT8XwY_afobggVPO4nbDOz0a1rC6o5ztl6pxUuPznWQ/s1600/amazon.book+for+profile.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rARiGqzucZ1am5r_TNLMgemK3zJy7dS6xS7R1yLK0rsukbgaY4VMcv08btZsNR9aSaGpK9z5ex-vRxKCHGsSWqAgT4fZDDdZIT8XwY_afobggVPO4nbDOz0a1rC6o5ztl6pxUuPznWQ/s1600/amazon.book+for+profile.jpg" /></a></div>
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Youtube Videos: Veterans Honored<br />
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<br /><br />
<br />
new: New River Gorge Bridge Day, Fayetteville, WV Oct. 20, 2012 video below:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPe0hd1h8Ts&feature=share">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iPe0hd1h8Ts&feature=share</a><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; mso-hyphenate: auto;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 150%;"><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/152040"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 150%;">The Girl
From Stretchneck Holler "Inside Appalachia"</span></a> </span><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 150%;"> </span><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">by </span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Lewisslusher"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Betty Dotson Lewis and Kathleen Colley Slusher</span></a><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br />
</span><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Price: $5.99 USD. 72560 words.
Published by </span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/brightonpublishing"><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;">Brighton Publishing LLC </span></a><span style="color: #555555; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"> on April 15, 2012. Fiction. </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 150%;"><br />
A heart-warming, heart-wrenching collection of short stories of moonshine, cock
fights, domestic abuse, Holy Rollers, coal mine thugs and the simple yet
complex lives of people up the hollers of the Appalachian Mountains. Coal
mining provides a livelihood which is colored by violence, and the rape of
mountains has forced an independent people into subservience. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; mso-hyphenate: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; mso-hyphenate: auto;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 150%;"></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">authors’ profile </span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Lewisslusher" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Lewisslusher</span></a><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<em><b><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">Smashwords:</span></b></em><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;"> </span><a href="http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/152040" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/152040</span></a><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white;">
<em><b><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">Amazon:</span></b></em><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;"> </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Stretchneck-Holler-Inside-Appalachia-book/dp/B007UIYD8A/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1334540832&sr=1-1"><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">http://www.amazon.com/Stretchneck-Holler-Inside-Appalachia-book/dp/B007UIYD8A/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1334540832&sr=1-1</span></a><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">Barnes and Noble: </span><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/"><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;">http://www.barnesandnoble.com</span></a><span style="font-family: 'Bookman Old Style', serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Excerpts from The Girl From Stretchneck Holler: Inside
Appalachia</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 24pt 0in 12pt; text-align: center;">
Coal
Miner’s Son</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">“J. C., here’s your mason jar of milk
and bread for your dinner,” my mother said. She wiped her forehead wearily.
She’d been up since before daybreak building a fire in the wooden cookstove and
fixing breakfast for her four boys. I was the oldest, seventeen years old, and
today was my first day to work in the mines.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I noticed Dad’s hard hat and work boots
by the door; he was still in the back bedroom. Mom touched my shoulder briefly
as I got my stuff and stepped out on the porch to wait for him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Take care, son,” she said softly. She
turned away quickly, but not before I caught the tear in her eye. Mom hated the
mines; she’d lost her father and two brothers during a cave-in ten years ago.
She’d wanted Dad to quit then. She didn’t want me to start now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">This was a temporary job for me. I
wanted to go to college (the first of our family to do so), but even with the
bank loan I managed to get, I needed more money for books and clothes. Dad got
me hired at his job site—a deep mine five miles away. We’d walk there and back
and eat our milk and bread so as not to have to spend our fifty cents’ pay on
food or gas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I heard Dad’s voice and he came out the
door; his eyes were ringed with the black soot residue that scrubbing couldn’t
get off, and he was rolling his Prince Albert. “Ready, boy”? Before I could
answer, he inhaled deeply and immediately his thin body was wracked with harsh
coughing. He continued to smoke as we started to walk rapidly. “You’re almost a
man now son… by the end of this summer, you will be a man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">God help me, I worked hard that summer.
A pick and a shovel, crawling on my hands and knees, too tired at the end of my
shift to barely talk; but if hard, dangerous work was the measure of a man, I
became one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">By the end of that first week, my knees
were bloody and raw from scrabbling on them for hours on end when the roof wall
was too low for a man to stand. I coughed short, hard coughs and spit up gobs
of phlegm streaked black; even the snot from my nose and the tears from my eyes
ran black.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">The men had taken to calling me Junior,
and after seeing that I aimed to stick it out, they treated me good. Dad worked
deeper than I did, with the experienced old-timers, but he heard tell of how I
wasn’t no quitter. He was happy with me then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">When I’d first told him how I wanted
more schooling, he’d snorted and said, “Are you afraid to work for your
living?” I needed to prove I could work at what he thought was a “real” job,
but I also aimed to show him I had further ambitions than to work in the mines
all my life. On our walks home, I told him of my plans to travel and see the
world. He said, “Yep, I had them plans too. Best you settle down and marry some
little girl from these hills than take off to God knows where, son.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I kept talking every day, and I wore him
down. He began listening, even asked questions about college. That summer, my
dad and I actually talked at length for the first time I could remember. I
found out that he’d dreamed of going to Texas when he was young. “Out there is
wide-open spaces so a man can breathe,” was what he said. My dad had emphysema
and black lung, also a touch of TB, but couldn’t afford medicines or doctors; ...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0.25in 0in 12pt; text-align: center;">
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The
Beautiful People of Stretchneck Holler</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">I remember seeing my grandfather on my
mother’s side. I was scared to death of him. I saw him a few more times when I
went with my mother back to visit after we moved across the mountain. His image
remains vivid even today. I may have gotten my height and coloring from him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">He was tall, big and blond, with white
and pink baby-looking skin. He was a violent man. His work: a union organizer.
He called men out on strike by shooting a pistol in the air near the mouth of
the mine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: 11pt;">He carried his money in a large leather
wallet chained to his belt. His job afforded him good money. He drank heavily
and everyone up and down Knox Creek, where he lived, knew he had another woman.
She was young and beautiful with fair skin, red hair, and pretty clothes. That’s
where he spent his time off from work. She got his money—what he did not spend
on moonshine. He would walk up the road, staggering back and forth, on payday.
Sometimes falling down by the road and lying there until he came to, then back
up to stagger towards home and my waiting grandmother. Once he made it home to
his tarpaper shack, he hung up his wide-brim hat on the wooden peg by the front
door. After making sure his white shirt was open down almost to his waist and
adjusting his shoulder holster, he sprawled out on the feather tick bed after
he checked the chambers, making sure the Smith & Wesson pistol was fully
loaded. When he was roused up by cars and trucks speeding up and down the road
and blowing their horns as they passed his house, he’d get out of bed, pull his
pistol out of his holster, throw the door open and shoot up in the air yelling,
“You scabs, damn you. You sons-of-bitches. Go to Hell.” Then he would slam the
door shut and sprawl back down on the feather tick bed until the cars and
trucks came again. He guarded the United Mine Workers of America on Knox Creek
with his very life. His allegiance belonged to the miners’ union, and anyone
who did not swear by John L. Lewis was in danger of my grandfather’s wrath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">His wife, my grandmother on my mom’s
side, was my favorite person in the world. I knew her best because my mom
talked about her constantly. A battered and abused woman, she fought off my
grandfather with a hot poker when he tried to beat her while he was drunk. He
cursed my grandmother and left her mostly penniless except for what little bit
she could lift from his wallet while he was in a drunken stupor...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-62507976669095514882012-05-29T21:26:00.001-04:002012-06-12T11:20:08.146-04:00Doc Watson<h4>
Links: Hatfields and McCoys Feud<br /><a href="http://hatfieldsandmccoysf.blogspot.com/">http://hatfieldsandmccoysf.blogspot.com/</a><br />Hatfields and McCoys Reality Show link:<span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">H</span><a class="l" href="http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-501368_162-57450997/hatfield-mccoy-kin-sought-for-reality-tv-show/" style="background-color: white; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: 1.2;"><em style="background-color: white; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; line-height: 1.2;">atfield</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="background-color: white; cursor: pointer; line-height: 1.2;">-</span></span><em style="background-color: white; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; line-height: 1.2;">McCoy</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="background-color: white; cursor: pointer; line-height: 1.2;"> kin sought for </span></span><em style="background-color: white; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; line-height: 1.2;">reality</em><span style="background-color: white; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 1.2;"><span style="background-color: white; cursor: pointer; line-height: 1.2;"> TV </span></span><em style="background-color: white; color: #1122cc; cursor: pointer; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small; font-style: normal; line-height: 1.2;">sho</em></a>w<br /><br />Novel: The Girl From Stretchneck Holler, "Inside Appalachia"</h4>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Stretchneck-Holler-Inside-Appalachia-ebook/dp/B007UIYD8A/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1334540832&sr=1-1" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/Stretchneck-Holler-Inside-Appalachia-ebook/dp/</a><br />
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<span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: large;">Doc Watson's Cure for the Blues</span><br />by Betty Dotson-Lewis, WV Writer and Regional Historian</span></div>
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A dark February weekend lights up thanks to a drive into the mountains for Doc Watson's music and a good cause. Make that two good causes. <br />
<a href="http://www.dailyyonder.com/author/betty-dotson-lewis">By Betty Dotson-Lewis</a>, co-author of The Girl From Stretchneck Holler <br />
<img alt="doc watson playing" height="367" src="http://www.dailyyonder.com/files/imagecache/story_default/imagefield/docplaying530.jpg" title="doc watson playing" width="530" /> <a href="http://www.michaelwilsonphotographer.com/?page_id=50">Michael Wilson</a> Doc Watson took North Carolina mountain music, blended it with blues, jazz, classical and whatever else he heard, and came out picking and singing like nobody else. <br />
How to avoid the Friday night blues? Indulge in more blues. Two weeks ago I made my way north to Statesville, North Carolina, then due west to North Wilkesboro. Snow was blowing hard and it took longer than expected to reach my destination, but I was seeking a remedy, and Doc Watson had the cure. <br />
My mood took a surprising upswing once I made the westward turn. Out of Statesville, heading towards the Blue Ridge Mountains, the stress of the urban world shrank to a speck of dust in my rearview mirror. I wound around the two-lane highway, past cow pastures and barns, the homes spread apart, farm animals on either side of the road, These simple gifts of rural life are often overlooked in our fast-paced attempts to find little pleasures. <br />
I was heading for a benefit concert hosted jointly by Doc Watson and the Kruger Brothers, a trio from Switzerland who have settled in Western North Carolina. Joel Landsberg, bassist for the Kruger Brothers, explained they wanted to do something to help the people of Haiti after January’s 7.0 earthquake. (Talk about the Blues!) They decided to use their musical talents to raise money for the Wilkes-Alleghany Chapter of the American Red Cross, funds that would be sent on for the Haitian relief work. When the Kruger Brothers contacted neighbor and 8-time Grammy award winner, Doc Watson, he was all in for this event. <br />
The 86-yearold Watson is legendary performer. He has blended traditional Appalachian music with bluegrass, country, gospel and blues, creating a unique style and an expansive repertoire. <br />
He was born in Stoney Fork, Watauga County, North Carolina, into a musical family. His mother sang songs around the house while washing and hanging the clothes out on the line, and at night she sang to her children as they went to sleep. His father, a farmer and day-laborer, led the singing at the Baptist church they attended. They often sang from a shape-note book published in 1866, The Christian Harmony. <br />
Doc took up playing the harmonica when he was six, stringing a piece of steel wire across the woodshed’s sliding door for bass accompaniment. When Doc was about eleven years old, his father made him a banjo using a cat’s skin for the head (discovering that groundhog hide didn’t have a good tone). Some say that banjo was the best thing Doc’s father ever did for him, but Doc would disagree. He says that the greatest gift he received from his dad was a job at the end of a crosscut saw when he was 14. “He made me know that just because I was blind, certainly didn’t mean I was helpless.” <br />
<img alt="doc watson family photo" height="368" src="http://www.dailyyonder.com/files/imagecache/story_side/imagefield/docWatsonFamilyPhoto320.jpg" title="doc watson family photo" width="320" /> <a href="http://www.events-in-music.com/merlefest-ill-fix-your-flat-picking-merle.htm">Events in Music</a> The Watson family of Stoney Fork, NC. Son Arthel (a.k.a. "Doc") stands at back, second from left Doc’s musical roots were family, church and neighbors. After the Watsons acquired a used wind-up Victrola and a stack of records , he listened to the Carter Family, Jimmie Rodgers, The Carolina Tar Heels, Gid Tanner and the Skillet Lickers. His parents sent him at age ten to Raleigh to school, where he was exposed to classical music and jazz. A friend taught Doc a few chords on the guitar, and he learned to play his first song: the Carter Family’s tune “When The Roses Bloom in Dixieland.” <br />
“The banjo was something I really liked” Doc says, “but when the guitar came along, to me that was my first love in music.” Starting out, Doc used a thumb pick but soon turned to flat picking, which has become his signature style. <br />
Doc and his brother began playing for local events. By age eighteen, Doc was playing with Paul Greer at a remote control radio show broadcast out of Lenoir, North Carolina. The announcer told “Arthel” Watson that his name was too hard to announce on the radio: he a shorter name that people could remember. A woman from the audience yelled out, “Call him <br />
Doc.” That has stayed with him. <br />
Doc married Rosa Lee, daughter of a friend and an old-time fiddler name Gaither Carlton, in 1947. Their son, Eddy Merle (named after Eddy Arnold and Merle Travis) was born in 1949. Their daughter, Nancy Ellen was born in 1951. To support his growing family, Doc tuned pianos. <br />
In 1953 he got a job playing electric lead guitar for Jack Williams and the Country Gentlemen, a country and western swing band. It was during his eight year stint with the Williams band that he began to flatpick fiddle tunes on his guitar for the square dance group at local dance halls, favorites like “Black Mountain Rag,” “Old Joe Clark,” “Sugarfoot Rag,” and “Billy In The Lowground.” <br />
In 1961 Doc, Gaither, Tom Ashley, Fred Price and his neighbor Clint Howard performed in New York City and word soon spread of this talented group. They then were invited to perform at colleges, folk festivals and clubs. In time, Doc Watson was paired with Bill Monroe, thrilling audiences with hot fiddle tunes and duet singing. <br />
Son Merle had shown no interest in guitar playing as a kid. But at about age 15, his mother showed him a few chords while Doc was on the road. When Doc returned and heard his son playing guitar for the first time, he said, “Son, you are going to California with me.” That was the first show Merle performed with his father, the Berkley Folk Festival in 1964. <br />
Although Merle listened to his father play all his life, he developed a style all his own. He loved the blues, especially as played by Mississippi John Hurt and Jerry Ricks. <br />
In 1972 Doc Watson was invited to record <em>Will The Circle Be Unbroken</em> with The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Roy Acuff, Mother Maybelle Carter, Earl Scruggs, Merle Travis, Bashful Brother Oswald, Norman Blake, Jimmy Martin and others. Doc almost turned the invitation down because his son Merle was not invited. Merle told his father that his feelings were hurt but this opportunity would put their music out to audiences who had not heard them before. <br />
After the release of <em>Will The Circle Be Unbroken</em>, Doc and Merle’s musical career picked up. They formed The Frosty Morn Band which played together a year or two. After that group disbanded Doc and Merle were joined by T. Michael Coleman on bass, a trio that toured world in 1974 and recorded 15 albums between 1973 and 1985. <br />
In October 1985 Merle Watson was killed in a tractor accident. Merle was only 36. <br />
Doc didn’t want to go on making music. He didn’t think he could go on without Merle by his side. Doc is quoted as saying he not only lost a son and a partner but, “the best friend I ever had in this world.” <br />
Doc has said that on the night before the funeral he had decided to quit playing music but that night he had a dream. Though Doc has some light perception, he’s said that in this dream it was totally dark. “I could hardly stand it.” He felt like he was in quicksand up to his waist and he wasn’t going to make it out alive. “Then, suddenly this big old strong hand reached back and grabbed me by the hand and I heard this voice saying, ‘Come on dad, you can make it. Keep going.’” <br />
Doc interprets this dream as the Good Lord telling him to continue on with his music. <br />
<img alt="western NC snow scene" height="354" src="http://www.dailyyonder.com/files/imagecache/story_default/imagefield/docwesternncsnow530.jpg" title="western NC snow scene" width="530" /> <br />
<br />
CM Sims Snowy cow pastures near North Carolina's Blue Ridge Parkway <br />
I’d drive over an hour through snow and rain to see and hear Doc Watson. And did. And I would do the same to see and hear The Kruger Brothers. They are that good. The night of the Haiti benefit, they played for almost 600 guests who had braved the winter weather in western North Carolina on a cold, snowy February night. <br />
After their performance for the standing-room-only crowd, Doc Watson, blind since he was one year old, was escorted on stage. He took his seat, center stage, in a straight back chair, and the Kruger Brothers came back out to introduce him. They told the audience that once they had heard Doc Watson perform, their dream was to perform with him -- and that dream had come true<br />
Accompanied by Charles Walsh, guitarist, vocalist and longtime friend, Doc opened his show with “Solid Gone.” Next, came a couple of blues tunes. <br />
<em>Let it rain, let it pour,</em> <br />
<em>Let it rain a whole lot more,</em> <br />
<em>
'Cause I got them deep river blues.</em> <br />
<em>
Let the rain drive right on,</em> <br />
<em>
Let the waves sweep along,</em> <br />
<em>
'Cause I got them deep river blues. </em> <br />
Doc is a man of music not just a musician. It is his heart, soul and life. He told the audience he was so happy to be able to contribute in some way towards helping the people of Haiti. He also said that there on stage performing with the crowd, it was as if he were sitting in his living room and talking or singing to only one of us. There is a softness about him. He is sincere and humble,and a natural born storyteller. <br />
Near the end of our concert Doc told the audience that he wanted to give testimony and hoped that no one would mind. He said that he was a born again Christian. He said he had been baptized when he was 14 years old but that it was the wrong kind of religion. He had listened to the wrong preaching and was baptized out of fear. He told us that four years ago he was listening to the song “Doctor Jesus” sand by Randy Travis and when the chorus came around the third time: <br />
<em>Doctor Jesus, Will you help me?</em> <br />
<em>
Make me better, make me whole
.</em> <br />
<em>Doctor Jesus, Lord, I need you</em> <br />
<em>
To mend my heart, and save my soul.</em> <br />
Doc Watson said that he prayed the prayer and became a born again Christian. <br />
<img alt="Doc Watson and Betty Lewis" height="490" src="http://www.dailyyonder.com/files/imagecache/story_default/imagefield/Doc-Watson-explains-to-betty530.jpg" title="Doc Watson and Betty Lewis" width="530" /> <br />
Courtesy Betty Dotson-Lewis Doc Watson explains Rockabilly to author Betty Dotson-Lewis, cured of the blues after the benefit concert for Haiti in North Wilkesboro, NC, Feb. 12, 2010<br />
When the concert was over Doc remained on stage. Fan after fan came up to where Doc sat and said, “We love you Doc. We love you. We love you Doc. We love you.” <br />
I asked Doc, “Doc, what is Rockabilly Music?” I climbed up on the stage to sit on the floor near him and he explained: “Goodness, goodness, Rockabilly Music is the music I heard back in the ‘40s, ‘50s and ‘60s.” <br />
Those who missed the benefit for Haiti in North Wilkesboro may want to mark their calendars for <a href="http://www.merlefest.org/MerleFestCMS/default.aspx">MerleFest</a>, Doc’s annual concert named in honor of his son. The festival, held every April-May at Wilkes Community College, features a vast array of folk, bluegrass, blues and old-time music. It’s one of the most popular acoustic music festivals in the world.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-91807097035157164522012-04-07T09:56:00.000-04:002012-04-07T09:56:39.987-04:00<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: medium;"><b>Upper Big Branch Mine - 2 years later</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: medium;"><b>Statement from Goose and Mindi Stewart</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">“First, my wife Mindi
and I would like to express our sadness that another family is being
impacted by the tragedy of April 5, 2010. We're certain Mr. May's family is
suffering tremendous fear and sadness at this time.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">That being said, we
would also like to express our gratitude to the Federal Prosecutor and his
staff for pursuing justice in this case. Nothing can bring back the wonderful
and brave men who were murdered and injured on April 5th and our hearts still
go out to the families of those miners. The best outcome of this entire
investigation would be the indictments, trials and prosecutions of all those
who were responsible for UBB's explosion from the upper Management at UBB up to
and including Don Blankenship.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Everytime an event
occurs that has to do with the tragedy at the mine, our family suffers the pain
of reliving that horrible day. I ask you to respect our family and our need for
privacy. We will not be releasing any further comments regarding this story.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">This message from Goose
and Mindi Stewart posted on WSAZ News Channel 3 website on March 29, 2012<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Stanley “Goose” Stewart
worked 34 years in the coal mine, 15 of those at Upper Big Branch mine. Goose testified before the Committee on
Education and Labor, U.S. House of Representatives, during the Hearing held May
24, 2010 in Beckley, West Virginia regarding the the Upper Big Branch mine tragedy. Goose made
the following statement at the Hearing; “There wasn’t no air. It’s hard to
ventilate a place when you ain’t got nothing to ventilate it with. A ticking time bomb because the ventilation
system they had didn’t work.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">We are on the 2 year anniversary of
the Upper Big Branch mine tragedy this Easter weekend. For family members,
loved ones and all coal field residents Easter
weekend holds a different meaning from the normal festive occasion of Easter
egg hunts, beautiful spring dresses and the celebration of the resurrection of
Jesus. On Monday, April 5 of the 2010
Easter weekend at approximately 3:02 pm
a powerful explosion tore through the Upper Big Branch mine, owned by Massey
Energy and operated by its subsidiary Performance Coal Company. The mine was
located at the convergence of the Boone and Raleigh Counties in southern West
Virginia. Twenty-nine miners were killed and one seriously injured. The blast rocketed
through more than 2 miles of underground workings tearing apart everything in
its path nearly 1,000 feet beneath the surface of the Coal River. So, Easter weekend will forever serve as a
reminder of the horrible tragedy at UBB.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> Once
again Easter weekend is upon us two years later and we have yet another family
impacted by the tragedy of the Upper Big Branch mine where 29 miners were
killed and one seriously injured. This is my story written March 29, 2012:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I’m so sad tonight, simply heartbroken that our
coalfields have suffered another deadly blow; claimed another casualty. Is it not enough we lost 29 coal
miners and another one seriously injured on Easter Monday in April 2010 at
Upper Big Branch Mine Explosion in Raleigh County, West Virginia owned by
Massey Energy. The latest heartbreaking news all over the newspapers, internet and
television stations is that Gary May, former mine superintendent at Upper Big
Branch mine, has entered a guilty plea to conspiracy to prevent MSHA from doing
their job. I don’t want to think of what
this may entail—we are family in the coalfields caring and looking out for one
another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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This news is too hard to bear. How can
residents of the coalfields comprehend much less accept the possibility that
those hired and empowered to provide and enforce a safe work place, to look
over our miners, serve as their guardian angels, their underground brothers
voluntarily give up that control at the miner’s expense. It was a well known
fact the Appalachian coalfield’s native son, former Massey Energy CEO Don Blankenship,
born in Shopover, Kentucky, raised in Delome, West Virginia and a graduate of
Matewan High School, pushed coal
production at all costs. He made no bones about that as evidenced in a memo
Blankenship sent in October 2005 to all deep mine superintendents, </span>"<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">If any of you
have been asked by your group presidents, your supervisors, engineers or anyone
else to do anything other than run coal (i.e. - build overcasts, do
construction jobs, or whatever) you need to ignore them and run coal. This memo
is necessary only because we seem not to understand that coal pays the bills."
Reported in the West Virginia Record.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
To make a long story short, after this explosion
at Upper Big Branch mine, the worst disaster in the US since 1972, Blankenship,
head of the UBB mine operation, retired after almost three decades at Massey. He
left practically in the middle of the night. The announcement of
Blankenship’s “retirement” came late on a
Friday after the markets closed – a sure-fire sign that the ouster was
abrupt and awkward. It came one day after a West Virginia judge <a href="http://noir.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=newsarchive&sid=azD6KzoySg4g" target="_blank">ruled against Blankenship’s motion to dismiss</a> two lawsuits holding him personally
responsible for the Upper Big Branch mine explosion.<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">While family members of the men killed were
tossing and turning—grieving in the night over the loss of their loved ones and
their painful deaths, in the event Blankenship suffered from any nocturnal
unrest, he left the company with enough funds to pay for sleep therapy for a
long time. CBS Money Watch reports Blankenship left with $12 million
cash</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">, health insurance
including dental, five years' use of an office with secretary, free use of a
house and land that formerly were Massey property, and reimbursement of taxes
on the free house and land and the title to a1965 blue Chevy truck previously
transferred to the company.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Cecil E. Roberts, President of the
United Mine Workers of American characterized Blankenship’s retirement as bringing to a close a long and
difficult chapter in the history of the coal industry, one that has all too
often been associated with human tragedy.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">The small, remote coalfield communities in
Appalachia are close knit and Bloomingrose in Boone County, West Virginia where
Gary May lives is less than 25 miles from Montcoal, Raleigh County, West
Virginia where the Upper Big Branch mine is located. That’s a rock’s throw
away. That’s like family. One of my
questions as a life-long resident of the coalfields is; what could Massey
Energy run by Don Blankenship possibly offer Gary May to entice him into this
web of deceit which led up and ended with the loss of 29 lives. Was it money,
threats, power...please, will someone fill in the blanks for us. Did he cross
the line from protector of his workers to protector of Massey Energy and CEO
Don Blankenship?</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">According to reports, May has agreed “to be
named as an unindicted co-conspirator and unindicted aider and abettor, as
appropriate, in subsequent indictments or informations,” and will also appear
again before a grand jury. May faces up to five years in prison and a $250,000
fine when sentenced on August 9, 2010. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Five years doesn’t seem that long in comparison
to what 29 miners received-death.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">U.S. Attorney for the
Southern District of West Virginia, R. Booth Goodwin, II had the following
comments regarding May’s guilty plea, “People who run coal mines have a
fundamental obligation to be honest with mine regulators. When mine
operators resort to tricks and deceit to keep government officials in the dark,
our mine safety system unravels and miners are put in harm's way. The least we
can do for coal miners is protect the integrity of the laws designed to keep
them safe" (WSAZ Channel 3 news website)</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Under the conspiracy charge, “May, together with others known and
unknown, unlawfully, willfully, and knowingly combined, conspired,
confederated, and agreed together with each other to defraud the United States
and an agency thereof, to wit, to hamper, hinder, impede, and obstruct by
trickery, deceit, and dishonest means, the lawful and legitimate functions of
DOL and its agency, MSHA, in the administration and enforcement of mine health
and safety laws at UBB,” according to court documents.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">May told court officially that he was responsible for tipping off mine
managers when U.S. Mine Safety and Health Administration inspectors were
coming. The person receiving this information-advance notice would conceal and
cover up violations of mine health and safety laws to avoid citations that
would be issued. Those involved in the cover up used code phrases to
pass the information along to sections of the mine to be
inspected. May stated that he engaged in acts such hanging or
rehanging ventilation curtains to direct additional air to the area where an
inspection was to take place. He said that if he inspectors were going to take
samples of respirable dust, he would rock dust those areas. He admitted to
falsifying safety records ordering an employee to omit from the record book
conditions of high water that made it unsafe to travel in parts of the
mine. May admitted to telling miners to rewire a methane monitor
rewired so a continuous miner would not automatically shut-off when excessive
methane was detected.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> CNN reported that in a December report, MSHA
found a methane ignition that set off flammable coal dust was the immediate
cause of the 2010 explosion, but it also blamed the "unlawful policies and
practices" of Massey Energy, which it said "promoted and enforced a
workplace culture that valued production over safety."</span><u><span style="color: #003399; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></u><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">It has finally come out
that Massey kept two sets of books to mislead federal inspectors and its
own workers about hazards in the mine, and had twice as many accidents as it
reported to regulators. MSHA found this company failed to conduct
adequate inspections and as intimidated their workers to prevent them from
reporting violations. (CNN & AP)</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">An earlier (state)
investigation found the mine lacked adequate ventilation; water sprays on
equipment were not properly maintained and failed to function as they should
have; and the mining company didn't meet federal and state safety standards for
the application of rock dust, a crucial tool in keeping highly volatile coal dust
from exploding.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Alpha Natural Resources purchased Massey in 2011
and has agreed to a $209 million settlement to avoid
prosecution. The deal includes payments of $1.5 million to each
family that lost a member in the Upper Big Branch mine. </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">May, became an
employee of an Alpha Natural Resources subsidiary following Alpha’s acquisition
of Massey Energy last year. May has been placed on administrative leave,
according to a company spokesperson</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">The news of this
breakdown in trust is counterproductive to any number of laws proposed or
passed to protect the coalminer or any dollar amount paid to family members. I
believe it is a necessary insult to equate the loss of a loved one to a dollar
amount. Although a sad commentary, I am interested in seeing how far
up the ladder this goes.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">The FBI and the U.S. Department of Labor’s Office of Inspector
General are handling the investigation. Counsel to the U.S. Attorney for the
Southern District of West Virginia Steve Ruby is handling the prosecution.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"> After almost two
years of investigations by state, federal and independent agencies, pieces of
this puzzle are finally coming together. Whether we like what we hear or not,
facts are coming out and we can only hope and pray for the dead miners, their
families and the family of Gary May and trust our Justice Department to put the
pieces together and give the residents
of the coalfields something to live for—that they do matter, their lives are valuable and that the outside
world recognize the dangers of coalmining.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Men
who lost their lives in the Upper Big Branch mine:</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Carl Calvin Acord</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Jason Atkins</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Christopher Bell</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Gregory Steven Brock</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Kenneth Allan Chapman</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Robert E. Clark</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Cory Thomas Davis</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Charles Timothy Davis</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Michael Lee Elswick</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">William Ildon Griffith</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Steven Harrah</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Edward Dean Jones</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Richard K. Lane</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">William Roosevelt Lynch</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Joe Marcum</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Ronald Lee Maynor</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Nicolas Darrell McCroskey</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">James E. “Eddie” Mooney</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Adam Keith Morgan</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Rex L. Mullins</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Joshua Scott Napper</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Howard D. Payne</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Dillard Earl Persinger</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Joel R. Price</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Gary Wayne Quarles</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Deward Allan Scott</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Grover Dale Skeens</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Benny Ray Willingham</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="Pa3" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16pt;">Ricky Workman</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="A4"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">And to the man who was seriously injured
in the explosion- James Woods</span></span><b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-41298287495891799952011-11-06T15:00:00.003-05:002011-11-06T19:44:21.076-05:00WWII Veteran - Ted McClung by Betty Dotson-Lewis<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjenh6ERRUyBt0-Pn4jku4yvo-UCGllKlsfsi4Rib2cgUXYeJVVJisUDl-_JXBUl18ViRkHRLaK9eRugYZVRvGkos6zygxfQ35FvnDsoQrzIf2LDOnhqPYyPQU5vmqtd5VCc9qpW7RB6eA/s1600/Ted+McClung+jpeg.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 154px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672048184095372642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjenh6ERRUyBt0-Pn4jku4yvo-UCGllKlsfsi4Rib2cgUXYeJVVJisUDl-_JXBUl18ViRkHRLaK9eRugYZVRvGkos6zygxfQ35FvnDsoQrzIf2LDOnhqPYyPQU5vmqtd5VCc9qpW7RB6eA/s320/Ted+McClung+jpeg.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>"A Mother's Prayer"<br />Oral History Interview with Ted McClung, WWII Veteran<br />February, 2001 10:00 a.m.<br />Summersville, West Virginia<br /><br /><br />Theodore "Ted" McClung, Army - WWII<br />November 5, 1942- November 3, 1945<br /><br /><br />Ted McClung, 89 year old WWII Veteran, receiving his high school diploma from Nicholas County Board member, Jim Cox, February 26, 2001. Photographed by Jurgen Lorenzen<br /><br /><br />Are you a native West Virginian and Nicholas County?<br /><br />Yes, I was born September 2, 1923 at home, Mt. Lookout, West Virginia. My parents were Ira and Nora McClung. I have five brothers and four sisters. I was the fifth one going in the service. We all served during WWII. Out of the five, four of us were overseas. We all served in the Army.<br /><br />When did you enlist in the Army and what motivated you to join up?<br /><br />I was in my second year at Nicholas County High School when I enlisted in the Army. Four of my brothers were already in the service and I felt dissatisfied and enlisted in November 5, 1942.<br /><br />Where did you take your Basic Training?<br /><br />I had my Basic Training at Camp Grant, Illinois, just out of Rockford, where the temperature got down to 45 degrees below zero. Finished Basic Training the 1st of February 1943 and I was sent to Camp Campbell, Kentucky on February 4, 1943 to the 29th Field Hospital.<br /><br />What were the train of events following Basic Training, serving as a medic during the War?<br /><br />I finished training in the hospital at Camp Campbell and was transferred to Ft. Ord, California sometime in May. There we had amphibious training with guns (live ammunition) getting ready to go to the Luzon Islands. The Japanese didn't recognize our Red Cross, so we had as much training on how to use guns as the infantry.<br />We shipped out from Ft. Ord for the Luzon Islands on the 1st day of July, 1943, on a LST Ship, and landed in the Luzons on the 26th of July. We landed on Adick Island. We were there until the 14th of August, 1943. From there we made the invasion on the 15th of August, 1943, at midnight. It was partially daylight (it just gets dusk there, never dark). We were lucky that the Japanese had evacuated the Island. According to reports received, 12,000 Japanese were on the Island but all we found were six in a plane hanger drinking coffee but their guns, supplies and everything was still there. (I always wondered if it were tea instead of coffee they were drinking because they are big tea drinkers).<br />They left behind between twenty to twenty-five suicide submarines. (It was a great honor for them to be killed like that; chained to a suicide submarine and sent out to die).<br />We were there until February 12, 1944. We had snow at least twenty feet deep. You could walk on top of the snow. The wind blew all the time. We were medics, but we also unloaded supplies used to invade Japan. We got back to Seattle, Washington on the 20th of February 1944. I went to Ft. Lewis, Washington and then to Camp Bowie, Texas. We got a twenty day furlough and then back to Camp Bowie.<br />Three weeks later, we were at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey, and from there I was shipped to our Division in England where we opened a hospital station. On the 15th of August, 1944, we moved to France and set up our Field Hospital to care for our troops. The closest the Field Hospital could be set up to the front line was from one half mile to one mile. Our job was to take care of our wounded soldiers and the wounded Germans. In November just out of Antwerp, Belgium, we opened up a Station Hospital.<br />Before Christmas, twenty-five of us were sent to Brussels to open up a hotel for the men coming back from the front lines to rest. In March, 1945, twenty of us were transferred from the hospital to the infantry.<br />We had infantry training in France but we had already had tougher training at Ft. Ord. Then we went to Nuremberg, Germany as occupational troops. We were there for one; they put us on a train to Marseilles, France for direct shipment to Japan. We were there approximately from one month to six weeks.<br />We were supposed to load on a ship the 15th of August to go to Japan. The Japanese surrendered on the 14th of August, 1945. They got us out of bed at midnight and told us that we would not be going to Japan; we would be going home.<br /><br />When were you discharged from the Army and what were your feelings arriving back in America?<br /><br />On the 1st day of September, 1945, we got on a ship and headed for the US. One of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life was the Statue of Liberty when we arrived in New York Harbor. We sailed right by it, close enough to touch, I thought.<br />We went to Ft. Meade, Maryland. We were given a forty-five day furlough to go home and then report back to Ft. Meade. There, I received my discharge, November of 1945.<br /><br />What medals did you receive?<br /><br />I was awarded on the Asiatic, One Battle Star, European Theater, two Battle Stars, Good Conduct Medal, Victory Ribbon, American Theater Ribbon.<br /><br />Did all your brothers survive the War?<br /><br />Fortunately, none of my brothers were killed, but one of my brothers suffered from Battle Shock. I got one letter from him; he was in France and then the next time I heard from him, he was in England in the hospital. He served in what was called "the Bastard Tank Battalion," 750th Tank Battalion. They were sent out with a Battalion of infantry on the front lines to clear the way. The stress of killing and intense battle fatigue was too much for him.<br />Two other brothers served in the 2nd Army Division; one was a Lt. and one a Tech. Sgt. One was on limited service.<br /><br />What was your Mother's prayer?<br /><br />My mother's one prayer was that she would see all her sons come home from the war alive, and she did. She passed away soon after that.<br /><br />Comments from Ted:<br />I belong to the Civil Air Patrol. I have the rank of Lt. Col. I have total of twenty two ribbons from the Civil Air Patrol and the Army. Ted received his high school diploma at the age of 89. "I am so proud I am finally receiving my high school diploma," were Ted's comments. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-32909135694330356802011-11-06T14:43:00.001-05:002011-11-06T14:53:38.775-05:00Veterans receiving high school diplomas in Nicholas County, West VirginiaVeterans receiving High School diplomas in Nicholas County, West Virginia<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQV8K_ctnJ3ZLx-dzIteQuWD4zTXuyUfevpu7GFfe5mrF67uKwoETpBawm9RbtYn31cyROxevxjY9HO8BJ8zOcvdju_K0VmZP-EVSCOckVeSJ0OkC1BBkTrmuCSSTf3PTSenMsNVhyYk/s1600/Veterans+receiving+high+school+diploma.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671972783873381746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFQV8K_ctnJ3ZLx-dzIteQuWD4zTXuyUfevpu7GFfe5mrF67uKwoETpBawm9RbtYn31cyROxevxjY9HO8BJ8zOcvdju_K0VmZP-EVSCOckVeSJ0OkC1BBkTrmuCSSTf3PTSenMsNVhyYk/s320/Veterans+receiving+high+school+diploma.jpg" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-1738473841710114262011-10-16T16:48:00.006-04:002011-10-16T16:58:50.315-04:00Press Release-- Girl from Stretchneck Hollow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROQBY-8CfRTe-6m7HGjLjipggdQFHT_ciCk_pkMe1b9j4DtXuI-9Ju6OPL846D6gPVk85AEN3SHxnp_bfHcELhMjBSHNilCretBQsB-KXyxC0WvV21YJidZDwdR6Jabro68eXrg98oyU/s1600/Kathleen+Slusher+crop2_pp.jpg+for+press+release.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 266px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664195574113410914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhROQBY-8CfRTe-6m7HGjLjipggdQFHT_ciCk_pkMe1b9j4DtXuI-9Ju6OPL846D6gPVk85AEN3SHxnp_bfHcELhMjBSHNilCretBQsB-KXyxC0WvV21YJidZDwdR6Jabro68eXrg98oyU/s320/Kathleen+Slusher+crop2_pp.jpg+for+press+release.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIbxusVKhk8lA383eWxS4dvqtlo2Pzdb53tZGNS3oM2Zb9KBwH3daK0uyBC_BK7cw-0Mm5GlDvXMDVRQDoZdEELCCoUyzoV8tOml8MVZdbrHrj3mJjadVMwe0iyvY0RQCBZUURfSXuSs/s1600/Betty+Dotson-Lewis+crop2_pp.jpg+for+press+release.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664195241970468578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHIbxusVKhk8lA383eWxS4dvqtlo2Pzdb53tZGNS3oM2Zb9KBwH3daK0uyBC_BK7cw-0Mm5GlDvXMDVRQDoZdEELCCoUyzoV8tOml8MVZdbrHrj3mJjadVMwe0iyvY0RQCBZUURfSXuSs/s320/Betty+Dotson-Lewis+crop2_pp.jpg+for+press+release.jpg" /></a> Kathleen Colley Slusher---------------------------- Betty Dotson-Lewis</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: MEDIA CONTACT: Kathie McGuire<br />October 6, 2011 Kathie@BrightonPublishing.com<br /><br /><br />Brighton Publishing LLC signs authors Betty Dotson-Lewis and Kathleen Colley Slusher for Girl from Stretchneck Hollow<br /><br />Brighton Publishing LLC announced the signing of authors Betty Dotson-Lewis and Kathleen Colley Slusher for their collection of short stories illuminating life in Appalachia<br /><br />CHANDLER (AZ)—Brighton Publishing is pleased to announce the acquisition of Girl from Stretchneck Hollow: Inside Appalachia by authors Betty Dotson-Lewis and Kathleen Colley Slusher. This collection of short fiction about life and lives in Appalachia will be released first as an eBook in mid-2012.<br /><br />Dense forests begrudgingly give way to steep banks which tumble down to swiftly flowing streams throughout the mountains of Appalachia from North Carolina to Kentucky and on through West Virginia. The land and its people are bound together, past and present, with a history and a culture as much their own as they are neglected and misunderstood.<br /><br />In this collaboration between two accomplished authors, a collection of short fiction has emerged in which readers may revel. Both heart-warming and heart-wrenching, Dotson-Lewis and Slusher put the very raw lives of Appalachia into captivating prose which sweeps the reader into their stories.<br /><br />“What Pulitzer-winner Charles Wright accomplished in his poetry about Appalachia, Betty Dotson-Lewis and Kathleen Colley Slusher have equaled in their prose,” said Kathie McGuire, director of Brighton Publishing LLC. “They pull no punches in shining light on the realities of the back woods—the moonshine, domestic abuse, holy rollers, coal miners, cock fights, and beyond the shocking, an amazing portrait of the difficult lives of people „up the hollers‟ in the Appalachians.”<br /><br />Stories rising from this upbringing serve as windows to the souls of those hidden children of the mountains. “The Rooster Fight” is a brutal story of forbidden cock fighting, gambling, drinking, and mob-like behavior, told in a child‟s tender voice. “The Porkpie Hat” story reveals the dangers lurking in the mountains, embodied in a mentally-impaired boy and a sexual predator brought to live with his family after the coal miner father is killed. “The Groundhog” is, in itself, a test of readers‟ nerves. Funny, yet grotesque, it is a true-life, actual account of catching, killing, and cooking mountain cuisine.<br /><br />A common thread weaves through these stories like the threads of a mountain quilt sewn together over the years: a new piece, an old piece, one worn by a grandmother, one having covered a deceased child. Throughout Girl from Stretchneck Hollow: Inside Appalachia are the lives of all the children raised in Appalachia‟s coal culture. Their voices linger still.<br /><br />Betty Dotson-Lewis was raised in a coal mining town in the remote mountains of West Virginia. She attended Berea College, and has already authored three books on Appalachian life. Kathleen Colley Slusher, a Berea College graduate, was raised in Haysi, Virginia. Half-Japanese, half-American, she, too, grew up among the coal fields of Southwest Virginia, and today is a retired English teacher.<br /><br /># # #<br /><br />501 W. Ray Road, Suite #4, Chandler, AZ 85225 • www.BrightonPublishing.com<br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-12936351662244922602011-04-12T15:27:00.002-04:002011-04-14T19:16:38.085-04:00Civil War Anniversary - 150 years ago today, April 12, 2011Read about the hardships of Franklin Branscome, Confederate Soldier from Carroll County, Virginia. He and his 3 brothers walked to Dugspur and volunteered on September 16, 1861. Two brothers died because of the Civil War. Read more. Abraham Lincoln's State of Kentucky joined the Union even though it was a slave-holding state. read the story on Franklin Branscome, Recollections of a Confederate SoldierUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-492560516900284172011-04-12T14:14:00.002-04:002011-04-21T10:25:30.068-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZ1xQUfpVe-edNB1kZPqw1sTzWqMO1ADXLBCTU1KoVr2JsMzGRjYwuFTVCwKm1wczgOzUveNsHa18qdpBLxCX_iGyTRP3g3Ht414QrzAtXENVS8qV1Gy80pE8A7JWPgWfm4t8WaCIzs0/s1600/Battle+of+Chickamaugau.jpg"><span style="font-size:0;"></span><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 232px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594771051402816434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZ1xQUfpVe-edNB1kZPqw1sTzWqMO1ADXLBCTU1KoVr2JsMzGRjYwuFTVCwKm1wczgOzUveNsHa18qdpBLxCX_iGyTRP3g3Ht414QrzAtXENVS8qV1Gy80pE8A7JWPgWfm4t8WaCIzs0/s320/Battle+of+Chickamaugau.jpg" /></a> Civil War - 1861-1865 Franklin Branscome - Confederate Soldier <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegDYkTQfGkOMc-wau1DEp4xxlMEZIQviv6F3psOf85Z7EcS7Dtknce9-shpfNYR80FOskLT1auG12cEiPe76l6EPD1OIpm2Ju7tVxlDg2rnIenUiVSDpEvS_k76jN7n65XkOZBjpny7E/s1600/Confederate+soldiers+winter+quarter+1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 137px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594770116192185010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiegDYkTQfGkOMc-wau1DEp4xxlMEZIQviv6F3psOf85Z7EcS7Dtknce9-shpfNYR80FOskLT1auG12cEiPe76l6EPD1OIpm2Ju7tVxlDg2rnIenUiVSDpEvS_k76jN7n65XkOZBjpny7E/s320/Confederate+soldiers+winter+quarter+1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkhe532Lq17n1uknbrfTKNUtClIhobAQoJmbPqXtbrDBggH4e-KaKJk_4ifVbAjhM7Uw2JYXwYmXDWnSoloyaWg5J0iM6Jot6Sm4iML9RJkJ51QkgLf5Jb6qgNukXQ-ly_xX5-VEoc204/s1600/Frank+Branscome+2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 232px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594764553022835474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkhe532Lq17n1uknbrfTKNUtClIhobAQoJmbPqXtbrDBggH4e-KaKJk_4ifVbAjhM7Uw2JYXwYmXDWnSoloyaWg5J0iM6Jot6Sm4iML9RJkJ51QkgLf5Jb6qgNukXQ-ly_xX5-VEoc204/s320/Frank+Branscome+2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>Franklin Branscome, Recollections of a Confederate Soldier Snake Creek Section of Carroll County, Virginia, September 16, 1861 </div><br /><br /><div>By Betty Dotson-Lewis </div><br /><br /><div>The Civil War was a military conflict between the United States of America (the Union) and the Confederate States of America (the Confederacy) from 1861 to 1865. The main reason for the war, slavery. Southern states depended on slavery to support their economy. Slavery was illegal in the Northern states and only a small portion actively opposed it. The main debate on the eve of the war was whether slavery should be permitted in the Western Territories recently acquired during the Mexican War. </div><br /><br /><div>- January 1861 following the election of Abraham Lincoln as President, a known opponent of slavery, South Carolina seceded from the Union. Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas followed. </div><br /><br /><div>- February 1861 the seven seceding states created the Confederate Constitution. Jefferson Davis was named provisional president of the Confederacy until elections could be held. - February 1861 President Buchanan, Lincoln’s predecessor, refused to turn over southern federal forts to the seceding states, southern state troops seized them. </div><br /><br /><div>- March 1861 Abraham Lincoln was inaugurated. Lincoln said he had no plans to end slavery in those states where it already exist, however, he would not accept secession. </div><br /><br /><div>- April 1861 President Lincoln in an effort to avoid hostilities alerted South Carolina that supplies were being sent to Fort Sumter. South Carolina feared a trick so Robert Anderson, commander of the fort was asked to surrender immediately. Anderson offered surrender after supplies were exhausted. His offer was rejected and on April 12, the Civil War began with shots fired on Fort Sumter which was eventually surrendered to South Carolina. </div><br /><br /><div>- April 1861, the Fort Sumter attack prompted four more states to join the Confederacy, Virginia, Arkansas, North Carolina and Tennessee. Richmond, Virginia was named the Confederate capitol. </div><br /><br /><div>Five months after Virginia’s secession from the Union, Franklin Branscome and his three brothers answered the call of duty to the Confederacy Army. Franklin lived to tell his story. A rough, low estimate of 620,000 soldiers including two of his brothers, never made it back home. Franklin’s brother, Robert, a wagoneer died in 1862. He’s buried in the Confederate cemetery at Emory & Henry where the hospital was located and John, the baby brother, captured at Missionary Ridge, Tennessee on November 25, 1863 was shipped to Rock Island, Illinois, Union Prisoner of War camp. There, he came down with Typhoid Fever and died on January 7, 1864. As far as anyone knows he was buried in the swampy land next to the prison along with hundreds of other prisoners. </div><br /><br /><div>Today, Franklin Branscome rests six feet under on the hillside of his farm on Little Snake Creek of Carroll County, high in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia between Fancy Gap and Hillsville. There, his descendants bicker, guard, and care for the memory of their Confederate soldier who lived to tell the story. </div><br /><br /><div>Location: Franklin’s grave </div><br /><br /><div>Franklin’s voice - </div><br /><br /><div>“Y’all back to visit so soon? Good. I like company. Sure do appreciate the nice sturdy fence you’ve put up on top of my underground home. Keeps the animals from walking around on my stomach and head. Must have paid a lot out for this fancy headstone you got for me and your great grandmother. She always liked fancy things. </div><br /><br /><div>Oh, I see you’ve brought a stranger up the hill to visit my grave. Say she’s interested in my past- not the moonshine making past, but my Confederate soldier past. I appreciate the interest. I don’t care to tell a little of what I recollect. That was awhile back about-150 years ago since the north and south fought-brother against brother. I proudly served as a Confederate Officer, 1st Lieutenant with the 54th and later Sgt. with the 25th Calvary. </div><br /><br /><div>Pertinent information about me is carved deep in the granite marking my grave. Right here with me in this pine box is my sword (a long hunting knife), belt and what was left of my coat that I brought back from the war. Put to rest with me by my kinfolk. </div><br /><br /><div>Franklin Branscome 1st LIEUT CO G 54 VA INF CONFEDERTE STATES ARMY Mar 14, 1837 July 12 1927 </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection - Enlistment </div><br /><br /><div>When I was 24, me and my three brothers, Robert (1839), Isaac (1841), and John (1842) left our farms and our families here on Little Snake Creek in Carroll County, Virginia, and walked the eight or ten miles to Dugspur to volunteer in the Confederate Army. We got mustered in on September 16, 1861 with the 54th Virginia Infantry, Company G. I was the eldest of the four brothers. </div><br /><br /><div>It was early fall but our crops were harvested with plenty put up for our women and children until we got back from the war. I raised corn and made moonshine. </div><br /><br /><div>In Southwest Virginia, slaves, small in number, worked at jobs whites didn’t want as field hands for planters and for big farmers. Some worked as servants looking after rich folks. They cleaned their houses, cooked their meals, washed their clothes and was nanny for their children. Slaves kept the hot springs running, cooking, butchering meat, waiting tables and playing music. As one farmer said any white person willing to work as a servant was deemed worthless. Slaves worked in the area’s iron. lead, and salt mines and factories. </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection – 54th Virginia Infantry, Company G, outfitted for battle </div><br /><br /><div>Captain George Hylton Turman’s Company G was made up mostly from Carroll County and bordering Floyd County, Virginia men. Captain Turman convinced 78 men to enlist in the Southern cause on the day we volunteered, September 16, 1861. That was the first muster roll. The second muster roll for the 54th is the period from July 9, 1863 to December 31, 1863. </div><br /><br /><div>Company G went to Christiansburg to Camp Hall to get outfitted for battle. Standard Confederate uniforms were gray with a wool hat. Soldiers lucky enough to have a pair of shoes that fit would often nail horseshoes to them to prevent the soles from wearing down. My rifle was a Confederate Springfield-a flint-lock with my ammunition in a cartridge box attached to the right of my belt. Each soldier was given a small blanket rolled up, a haversack, cloth-covered canteen, tin cup and small frying pan. </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection – 54th Ordered to advance the Southern Cause in President Abe Lincoln’s Union </div><br /><br /><div>Kentucky The 54th was ordered to Kentucky after leaving Christiansburg, Virginia where we engaged in battle in Floyd County, Kentucky on Christmas day in 1861. The Union took one P.O.W. Kentucky, birthplace of President Abe Lincoln, joined the Union even though it was a slave-holding state. </div><br /><br /><div>Kentuckians had ties to both the North and South. Tobacco, whiskey, snuff and flour produced in Kentucky was shipped to Southern states and across the ocean by way of the Mississippi and north by railroad. Rich plantation owners stood to lose a lot of money if they lost their slaves and slave trade through abolition. </div><br /><br /><div>By law, Kentucky was one of the five slave states that sided with Union but many Kentuckians, especially from the rich bluegrass horse region, joined the Confederate army. Battles fought in Floyd County pitted brother against brother. Families were split forever over abolition. </div><br /><br /><div>President Abe Lincoln could not afford to have his birth state of Kentucky go Confederate. Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy was also a Kentucky son. The outcomes of the battles fought in Eastern Kentucky determined Eastern Kentucky’s course in history. The Battle of Middle Creek has been called the most significant Civil War battle in Eastern Kentucky. </div><br /><br /><div>On January 10th, 1862, Confederate and Union troops met in hand-to-hand combat fighting for control of the border state. Fighting began at 4 a.m. Combat lasted 12 hours when our Confederate General Humphrey Marshall took troops still alive and left. </div><br /><br /><div>After a piecemeal Union attack slowly forced our soldiers up the steep hill as the sun was sinking over the mountains, the fighting eased. Marshall, commanding the Confederates, feared his hungry men would desert him in droves if they stayed in their position any longer. He burned the heaviest wagons and started his retreat southward traveling down the left fork of the Middle Creek towards the Joseph Gearhart Farm where he knew food for his men and forage for the horses waited. </div><br /><br /><div>The Confederates never regained the advantage they surrendered at the Battle of Middle Creek. Confederate Captain Marshall left our 10 Confederate dead soldiers lying on the battlefield. Battle of Middle Creek was initiated under the leadership President Lincoln as part of an overall strategy designed to keep his native state within the Union fold. </div><br /><br /><div>In 1861 and 1862, Kentucky saw a number of battles and skirmishes but after the battle of Perryville, Confederate forces retreated from the bluegrass state. The destruction was not over as the war wore on and supplies grew thin, Confederates began raids on Union supply depots, bridges, county courthouses and people’s personal property. As an Officer, one of my duties was to feed, clothe, and provide much-needed medical supplies to our soldiers. At night I would sneak into the Yankees camps and steal their horses and supplies, whatever was needed I could get my hands on. </div><br /><br /><div>After about 6 months, our shoes got so worn, we wrapped old feedsacks around our feet because the terrain was so rough it wore out the soles of our shoes. Our feet bled. Our pants, shirts and coats were torn to sheds by briar thickets. We were not too proud to take a Yankee’s shirt or pants. </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection—54th Company G changes in command </div><br /><br /><div>Captain George Hylton Turman served until February 16, 1862 then, resigned his post because of illness. Jeremiah Spence was elected to the post until he resigned on November 23, 1863. Eli Spangler, the errant 1st lieutenant of the company, was rehabilitated and promoted to Captain of Company G. Later the unit was assigned to Trigg's, Reynolds', Brown's and Reynolds' Consolidated, and Palmer's Brigade, Army of Tennessee. </div><br /><br /><div>Company G’s postwar roster is thought to be the least informative or all postwar rosters/records. </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection – Battle of Chickamauga </div><br /><br /><div>Legend holds that the word "Chickamauga" means "River of Death" in an old Indian language. It is an appropriate legend considering the brutal and deadly fighting that took place along the creek of that name during the Battle of Chickamauga, Georgia. </div><br /><br /><div>The Battle of Chickamauga was one of the most stunning Confederate victories of the Civil War. It was also one of the most costly. More than 34,000 men in the two armies were reported killed, wounded or missing. This campaign which started three months earlier in Murfreesboro, Tennessee finally came to a head on September 19 on Chickamauga Creek, “the River of Death.” </div><br /><br /><div>Gen. Rosecrans, Union Army (60,000) occupied Murfreesboro after the Battle of Stones River. The Army of Tennessee (43,000) was dug in 20 miles away at Tullahoma under the command of Gen. Bragg. Both armies had their eye on Chattanooga. By early September, Rosecrans had moved his Yankee troops south around Chattanooga and over Lookout Mountain into Georgia. Confederates countered this move by leaving Chattanooga and pulling back into Lafayette. Gen. Bragg took the offensive when he learned troops under the command of Gen. James Longstreet from Northern Virginia were on their way to reinforce the attack on the Yankees. On September 18th, we were moved forward to a position along Chickamauga Creek and formed a line that stretched for miles from Reed’s Bridge to close to Lee and Gordon’s Mill. </div><br /><br /><div>Fighting broke out on the morning of September 19, 1864 when we collided with Yankee soldiers. The battle spread more than four miles-more Blue, more Gray was fed to the battle line by the Generals. Visibility was limited along the heavy wooded creek beds of the Chickamauga. Neither commander wanted to fight there. </div><br /><br /><div>The day's fighting was fierce and bloody, with the men often fighting hand to hand in thick underbrush and woods. The first day of battle finally sputtered to a close when the Confederates forced the Union line of battle back to the LaFayette Road a mile from where the combat began. Moans and screams of thousands of wounded cut through the night. Woods burned tragically killing the wounded left on the ground and unable to crawl or walk away. </div><br /><br /><div>The night was time for reorganization of their lines by both armies. The Confederates planned on taking the offensive with Gen. Polk in command of the right wing and Gen. Longstreet in command of the left wing. Polk would start the attack and the rest of the army would follow with hammer-like blows to the Union troops but the attack was slow getting started. </div><br /><br /><div>As the morning progressed the Battle of Chickamauga once again flared to life. A hard fight by Union Gen. George Thomas held back the assaults by southern troops. Even though the attack spread down the line as ordered by Bragg, the Union held their line. Gen. Longstreet held back his main assault realizing the battle was behind schedule. Union Rosecrans shifted his units to reinforce Thomas since he was not facing an attack on his right. A hole was created by this maneuver. Gen. John Bell Hood’s command struck the gap and pierced the Union line. </div><br /><br /><div>Longstreek immediately backed up Hood poured in troops and moved his forces to begin rolling up the Union line. The Union troops became confused where Hood broke the line and began to crumble and retreat. Gen. Rosecrans was swept from the field by a mass of running soldiers. Gen. Thomas, Union commander, dubbed the “Rock of Chickamauga” was the only part of the Union army to hold off southern troops. </div><br /><br /><div>Thomas held out until sundown when Rosecrans ordered him to withdraw. He fell back to Missionary Ridge. . The next day the Union Army retreated into the fortifications of Chattanooga. More than 34,000 men were reported killed, wounded or missing at Chickamauga. </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection – My baby brother John captured during the Battle of Missionary Ridge </div><br /><br /><div>The Battle of Missionary Ridge was fought November 25, 1863, as part of the Chattanooga Campaign. Following the Union victory at Lookout Mountain Union Maj. Gen. Ulysses S. Grant assaulted Missionary Ridge defeating the Confederate Army of Tennessee under the command of Gen. Braxton Bragg. . My brother John was captured at Missionary Ridge, Tennessee on November 25, 1863 and sent to the largest and most notorious Union Prison camp at Rock Island, Illinois. He came down with Typhoid fever and died on January 7, 1864. </div><br /><br /><div>On December 3, 1863, when temperatures were 32 below zero 5,000 Confederate prisoners were delivered to Rock Island before the facility was ready. Brother John was one of those prisoners. The camp was located in the middle of the Mississippi River on a solid bed of limestone. The first groups of prisoners were from Camp Douglas and captured Confederates from battles at Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge where my brother John was captured. </div><br /><br /><div>The prison had 84 barracks, mere shanties, each 100-feet long, 22-feet wide, 12-feet high with 12 windows, 2 doors and 2 roof ventilators, mere shanties, surrounded by a rough board fence. A 18-feet long cookhouse was at the west end. The rest of the barrack was sleeping/living quarters for the prisoners. Guard boxes were built every 100 feet with double-gate sally ports, the only openings in the prison, where guardhouses were built. </div><br /><br /><div>“Pesthouses” were built to house prisoners who got smallpox or typhoid. At the onset, lack of a proper water supply and poor drainage created a sanitation problem. A smallpox epidemic brokeout immediately and prisoners contracted typhoid. Thousands got sick and more than 600 were killed within 3 months. That is where John Branscome died. </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection – Hard times </div><br /><br /><div>As the war continued, at times we almost starved. During the summer you could survive on berries, bark and greens out in the fields and stealing produce and vegetables. The winter was different it got so bad I would hurry up to be the first in line to march behind the mules and horses to pick the corn kernels out of the manure and save them so that when we got enough kernels we would boil them and eat them just to have food. </div><br /><br /><div>I remember one time during early winter we came upon an apple orchard and the trees still had a few apples and some half rotten ones on the ground. I ate until I got the “scours.” I had to march mile after mile suffering. </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection – Union Commanders evaluate Southerners </div><br /><br /><div>Frank H. Mason of the 42nd Ohio Infantry, serving with Garfield along the Virginia-Kentucky border, wrote of "primeval barbarism," condemned mountaineers as ignorant and crude, and compared them unfavorably to "the happy barbarians of the Pacific Isles." Crook dismissed the natives in his theater as "counterfeiters and cut-throats." </div><br /><br /><div>Recollection – End of the Civil War </div><br /><br /><div>Our Confederate regiment moved from Chickamauga to Missionary Ridge, then to Atlanta to catch up with Sherman on his march to the sea. From there we marched to Bentonville, North Carolina. Sherman reached the Atlantic at Savannah in December 1864. We’re told Sherman's army was followed by thousands of freed slaves. </div><br /><br /><div>There were no major battles along the March. Sherman turned north through South Carolina and North Carolina to approach the Confederate Virginia lines from the south. Confederate Gen. Lee's army, thinned by desertion and casualties, was now much smaller than Grant's. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Union forces won a decisive victory at the Battle of Five Forks on April 1, forcing Lee to evacuate Petersburg and Richmond. The Confederate capital fell. </div><br /><br /><div>After the defeat at Sayler’s Creek it became clear to Lee that continued fighting against the United States was both tactically and logistically impossible. On April 9, 1865, Lee surrendered at the McLean House (Appomattox Court House). </div><br /><br /><div>As a sign of Grant's respect and anticipation of peacefully restoring Confederate states to the Union, Lee was permitted to keep his sword and his horse, Traveller. </div><br /><br /><div>President Lincoln was shot by John Wilkes Booth on April 14, 1865, a Southern sympathizer. Lincoln died early the next morning, and Andrew Johnson became president. Meanwhile, Confederate forces across the South surrendered as news of Lee's surrender reached them. </div><br /><br /><div>Most consider Lee's surrender on April 9, 1865 the end of the Civil War but there were still Confederate Forces in the field until June. Confederate General Stand Watie surrendered on June 23, 1865 when the last major fighting occurred. </div><br /><br /><div>I was paroled at Greensboro, North Carolina. From there I returned to my home on Little Snake Creek, Carroll County, Virginia to rejoin my family and community and take up farming and caring for 300 acres of Blue Ridge property and timber.<br /><br />Recollections – Engagements<br /><br />Floyd Co., Ky (12/25/1861)<br />Middle Creek, Ky (1/10/1862)<br />Bourbon Co., Ky (4/15/1862)<br />Mercer-Princeton, WVa (5/17-18/1862)<br />Rocky Gap, Va (8/30/1862)<br />Prestonsburg, Ky (9/20/1862)<br />Lexington, Ky (10/13-14/1862)<br />Lancaster Co., Ky (10/15/1862)<br />Kentucky (10/20/1862)<br />Bowling Green, Ky (1862)<br />Lafayetteville, Ky (1862)<br />Kentucky (1862)<br />Kelly’s Store, Va (1/30/1863)<br />Jonesboro, Tenn (1863)<br />Lenoir Station, Tenn (6/19/1863)<br />Tullahoma, Tenn (7/1/1863)<br />Elk River, Tenn (7/2-4/1863)<br />Winchester, Tenn (7/3/1863)<br />Bell’s Bridge, Tenn (8/15/1863)<br />Chickamauga, Ga (9/19-20/1863)<br />Missionary Ridge, Tenn (11/24-25/1863)<br />Ringgold Gap, Ga 11/27/1863)<br />Stony Side Mtn. Ga (2/25/1864)<br />Dalton/Resace, Ga (5/10-15/1864)<br />Cassville, Ga (5/19-21/1864)<br />New Hope Church, Ga (5/24-25/1864)<br />Dallas, Ga 5/28-30/1864)<br />Mt. Zion Church, Ga (6/22-23/1864)<br />Marietta, Ga (7/1-10/1864)<br />Atlanta, Ga. (7/11/1864)<br />Atlanta, Ga. (7/20-22/1864)<br />Ezra Church, Ga. (7/27-28/1864)<br />Siege of Atlanta, Ga. (8/1-31/1864)<br />Jonesboro, Ga. ((9/1/1864-9/10/1864)<br />Saltville, Va. (10/2/1864)<br />Franklin, Tenn. (11/30/1864)<br />Murfreesboro, Tenn. (12/7/1864)<br />Nashville, Tenn. (12/10/1864-12/17/1864)<br />Egypt Station, Miss. (12/28/1864)<br />Itawaiba Co., Miss. (1/1/1865)<br />Nolensville, Tenn. (1/8/1865)<br />Stoney Creek, N.C. (3/3/1865)<br />Bentonville, N.C. (3/17/1865 – 3/19/1865)<br />Final Days in N.C. (3/20/1865-5/1/1865)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-85330113067015545002010-10-23T21:15:00.001-04:002010-10-23T21:17:55.170-04:00From The Sunny Side of Appalachia, Bluegrass from the Grassroots<br />by Betty Dotson-Lewis (B. L. Dotson-Lewis)<br /><br /><br />My Near Brush with Bluegrass <br />by B. L. Dotson-Lewis <br /><br /> I can’t remember when bluegrass music was not a part of my life. This acoustic music came with living in the Appalachian Mountains, part of our roots the way I understand it, but I was never confronted head on with this music until my father took it up.<br /><br /> My family moved west while I was still in high school and it didn't seem a big deal that I would stay behind with my sister and finish school in West Virginia. I was around 15. Like most teenagers I was heavy into listening to popular rock n roll.<br /><br /> When my father moved from West Virginia to the west coast he refused to give up his citizenship to Appalachia. His roots were in Buchanan County, Virginia, Jim Fork and later, Nicholas County, West Virginia. I have heard my father say that he wasn't looking for a western culture, he loved Appalachia. What the west could provide for him was taller mountains, bigger game and a closer relationship with nature. My father was born and raised in Southwest Virginia and his love for everything Appalachian, including mountain music, especially bluegrass never left his veins.<br /><br /> The way I see it, this romantic attachment to our unique culture makes my father totally responsible for my near brush with bluegrass.<br /><br /> You see, I was visiting my parents the summer between my senior year in high school and going off to Berea College. There, I would engage in a life of studying fine arts, foreign languages, and my entertainment would be symphonic concerts on the greens of a renowned institution of higher learning. I was seeking a liberal arts college degree. My father’s formal education went up to the 8th grade but he had common sense and a flare for writing.<br /><br /> Early on that summer shortly after my arrival at my western home, my father traded one of his hunting dogs for an old fiddle. He decided to take up playing bluegrass. The fiddle was his instrument of choice. No, he didn't read music.<br /><br /> The fiddle came in an old worn-out, banged up black case. The latch was broken on the case so a piece of hay baling twine was wound around and . . . (read moe in my book)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-84197333485552111192010-10-23T20:56:00.000-04:002010-10-23T20:57:29.323-04:00The Sunny Side of Appalachia, Bluegrass from the Grassroots (book)<br />by Betty Dotson-Lewis (B. L. Dotson-Lewis)<br /><br />Introduction<br /><br />Dear God,<br /><br /> How are Y'all? Good, I hope. Do you have a minute for me?<br /><br /> I wanted to tell you about my new book on Appalachia. This book covers the history of bluegrass music from the grassroots. I am using oral history interviews, photos, and stories about this music to tell the story which is so much a part of the cultural heritage of the Appalachian Mountains.<br /> God, do you like bluegrass? Well, if Bill Monroe, the Father of Bluegrass, date of death, September 9, 1996; Carter Stanley, Ralph's brother, date of death, December 1, 1966; and, Maybelle Carter, date of death, October 23, 1978, made it passed St. Pete and through the Pearly Gates, I don't have to tell you about bluegrass music, you've got the best band around. Harps may be the instrument of choice on the bluegrass stage in Heaven, I don't know.<br /> The title of my new book is "The Sunny Side of Appalachia: Bluegrass History from the Grassroots." Don't you love the title?<br /> Just as my first two books came about, nothing was pre-arranged. I didn't know I would be doing this book, but you hold the plan for each of us in your hands. The urgency to write this book hit me in June on the Saturday prior to the opening day of "Music In The Mountains" Bluegrass Festival which is held here in Summersville, West Virginia where I live. Here's how it happened.<br /> I was mowing my backyard. It was mid-afternoon and a pleasant day for working outside when suddenly, I realized a historical event was about to take place less than 4 miles from where I live. I needed to document this important history as it occurred. I dropped the handle of my John Deere, self-propelled mower on the spot as if I had been hit in the head by a faith healer such as Ernest Angsley. I grabbed a notepad, a pen, and keys to my Jeep, tied a bandana around my head to keep the sweat out of my eyes, and headed for the music park. I didn't even bother to change clothes, wash the grass off my arms and legs, or change from my lawn mowing shoes. An important mission lay ahead, or so it appeared.<br /> I pulled into the music park; a cows' pasture transformed overnight into a bluegrass music venue. I parked, got out, and walked over to where the gate keepers, Burl Willis, his wife, Linda, and daughter Abby, were ushering hundreds of campers in for a week long diet of bluegrass music. The gatekeepers were locals, I knew. <br /> I told them I wanted to do a book on bluegrass as part of my series on Appalachia's culture and traditions preservation. Our roots. I asked them how they thought it would go over with the new owners of the Bluegrass Festival. The Nazarene Church people who had purchased the campground, Bluegrass Festival, lock, stock and barrel, the previous summer. Burl, Linda and Abby got so excited. They told me they thought it was a great idea. I told them I wanted them to be part of my book. They said the next step would be to talk to Cindy.<br /> Burl jumped on his golf-cart and took off to find Cindy, the new festival commander-in-chief. Shortly, they both returned and I met Cindy Pourbaix for the first time. I told her the same thing I had told the others, that I needed to do this book on bluegrass to help preserve this regional and local history of the mountain people. She agreed it was of utmost importance.<br /> She asked me how I planned on doing the book and I said, "I would bring a hand held, battery operated recorder and a camera. I told her I would walk around the campground and ask fans of bluegrass for an interview. I told her I would ask musicians for interviews and people from the Nazarene Church. Just a random collection to represent the history of the music and its connection with Summersville, West Virginia, our bluegrass town.<br /> She told me to come and go as I wished and get whatever information I could for this book which, she agreed would entertain, document, and educate.<br /> So, that's how it all began. I am working very hard. It is so exciting. God, you have the most exciting plans for us.<br /><br /> God, thank you for the privilege of growing up here in these rugged, remote, beautiful mountains of Appalachia. Thank you for my heritage.<br /><br /> Take care,<br /> B. L. Dotson-Lewis<br /> Summersville, West Virginia<br /><br />P.S. I thank you when I remember you.<br /> (Paul from the Bible)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-78181479358782375832010-10-23T20:45:00.000-04:002010-10-23T20:50:18.997-04:00Interview with Mrs. Jesse McReynolds (Joy McReynolds) found in The Sunny Side of Appalachia, Bluegrass from the Grassroots<br /><br />Jesse McReynolds & The Virginia Boys<br /><br />Dear Betty,<br />Thanks so much for your interest in our Pick Inn. We did an interview recently, and here it is. As you can see, Jesse is a man of few words. I, on the other hand, could go on about the Pick Inn all day!<br /><br />Feel free to use what you like, or ask more questions, and thanks again so much. Joy & Jesse<br />From Jesse--<br /><br />1. Why did you decide to establish a bluegrass-themed bed & breakfast, at this point in your career? <br /><br />After traveling on the road for 60 years, I want to slow down on touring but still have a place to play my music. <br /><br />2. Are you still planning to tour some and play dates on the road?<br /><br />Yes, I will be doing some touring on some special dates in 2008.<br /><br />3. Can you tell me more about the kinds of shows you will be hosting in the dinner theater? <br /><br />What can visitors expect to see and hear? The dinner theater is something that we plan to do in the future. It will be a family-type show with me and my band and special guests. And we will be booking other bands on different occasions. We want to feature traditional bluegrass and gospel music.<br /><br /><br />From Joy--<br />4. If folks come and spend some vacation time at the Pick Inn, they will get to to meet you, as well as Jesse. Could you tell the bluegrass fans reading this column a little about yourself, and your connection to the music? <br /><br />I think of myself as a farm girl, raised in the pretty countryside around Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. My first recollection of bluegrass music was as a little girl, around the late 50's or early 60's. I was sitting in the back seat of our car with my sisters, and heard the most wonderful sound come on over the radio. I asked our Dad what that music was, and he said it was "Campbell's Corners". I wanted to go there in the worst way! Dad also told us about a place called "Sunset Park" which was right close by. We never did get there as a family, but I never forgot that music.<br /><br />It wasn't until 30+ years later, after I became a music reporter, that I finally got to Sunset Park. It felt like coming home. By this time my parents had passed on, but I took the rest of my family with me and we all fell in love with it. When the park closed down a few years back, it was like losing a friend. That was the one and only music park I ever visited, and it is a treasured memory. But perhaps more of a loss than the music, I really miss sitting at the picnic tables with my sisters during the supper break, under those big old shade trees. I hope we can provide that kind of experience at our Pick Inn. A feeling of "this is our home in the country where I can bring my family, or just come by myself and be with people that feel like family, and enjoy good music".<br /><br />Jesse and I married in May of 1996. I really believe that a finer man has never walked the earth. So kind and gentle, while at the same time a dynamo in perpetual motion. You need a lot of energy to keep up with Jesse. I love it. He keeps me young!<br /><br />Jesse has lived on this beautiful property in Gallatin, Tennessee since he and his brother Jim bought the 90 acre farm back in 1964. They split it up and lived side by side all their lives. Jesse gave his children a few acres, and the Pick Inn is on the 10 acre parcel he and his first wife, Darlene, gave their oldest son, Keith, back in the 1970's. Keith loved this particular property for it's serenity and view of Old Hickory Lake. He called it "Meditation Hill".<br /><br />Jesse helped Keith build the log cabin at the Pick Inn. Keith and wife, Debbie, had two lovely children, Amanda Lynne (Jesse named her!) and Garrett. Keith was a wonderful man, musician, father, and man of great faith. Keith got his religious foundation from Jesse and Darlene, who sadly passed away in 1993. Then, after a long bout with MS, Keith passed away back in 2000. Over the last few years, Garrett and Amanda started joining Jesse on his shows, and we could see how special that was, and we appreciated how the kids showed so much respect and enthusiasm for singing & playing music with Jesse.<br /><br />Last November of 2006, it was decided to sell their childhood home at an auction, and Jesse and I didn't think we had much of a chance to buy it because we thought it would be too expensive. But Jesse sent me and Garrett up to the auction and he said he was staying home to pray. Talk about the prayers of a righteous man availing much! I thought Garrett and I would just be bystanders watching it sell, but the bidding stopped, and Garrett turned to me and asked, "How about a thousand more?" Well, who could look into such a sweet face and say no? Not I! So little by little, we acquired the property back (after we made an emergency phone call to Jesse, who said, "Go for it!").<br /><br />I look at the Pick Inn as a gift from God. I almost feel like we don't even own it. We are stewards of what God has given us, and we give God all the glory. I just hope we can be good stewards of it. I guess, in a way, we all own it, and need to care for it so it will be here, along with the music of our heritage, so our kids and grandkids can pass it down to their kids. We sure can't take it with us when we leave this earth, and there can be no greater pleasure for me than what God has made at the Pick Inn and worked through all who come there. Everyone seems to leave a touch of themselves behind, and we love that. We all own the place, as far as I am concerned.<br /><br />I am so thrilled that Jesse has plans to construct an old-time brush arbors church and we plan to have revivals, youth camps, spiritual retreats, and possibly baptisms in Old Hickory Lake. We are especially blessed with the presence of our own "Fiddlin' Preacher". There is talk of a live radio show and many more wonderful ideas.<br /><br />Well, as you can see, I could write a novel about the Pick Inn. To make a long story short, I love this old place. If I went on a vacation, I'd want to stay here, so why not share that blessing with everyone? I've walked my dogs on these trails for years, marveling at the birds, butterflies, wildflowers, pretty views, wildlife, and serenity. I don't think it pleases God to only make this kind of blessing available to a few.<br /><br />There was one other childhood experience that made a huge impression on me as far as my love of nature. As Girl Scouts, we took a field trip to a place called the Tyler Arboretum. There, we learned how all the things that grow in the wild are important for wildlife to survive. So when you come and walk the trails at the Pick Inn, you won't see a golfcourse-type lawn everywhere. I have purposely left the wildflowers for the butterflies, birds and the bees to survive on. There are walking trails through wildflowers over 5 feet tall! I'd love to let teachers bring their classrooms in and see how important it is to preserve nature for the wildlife, and appreciate that these things that may look like weeds are important for the survival of many forms of life.<br /><br />5. What are you looking forward to, specifically, about being a bluegrass innkeeper? I see how happy people are when they get to meet Jesse. He is a blessing to so many. This will give folks a chance to come and see him at home. I think it is a very nice way to say "thank you" to the fans, as well as a nice way for the fans to come and meet a hero they think may never get a chance otherwise to meet. I think this will be the greatest pleasure of all for me... to see people get to meet Jesse and find out he's a regular, down-to-earth person who just happens to be a musical wizard!<br /><br />As far as the B&B, we are not yet classified as a Bed & Breakfast. We will be seeking approvals to do that in the near future, and I do look forward to that very much. Right now it already gives me great joy to see our visitors come and enjoy the countryside and the music. This will be a dream come true for many musicians who think it is the ultimate thrill to play music with a bluegrass legend like Jesse. We are looking forward to having teaching camps for all the bluegrass instruments. For me, the Pick Inn is a labor of love. The best compliment I've gotten so far is "it feels like coming home to Grandma's".<br /><br />But, more than anything, I love Jesse. This is a dream of his. If I can help make this dream happen, nothing could make me happier. ~ Joy McR.<br /><br /><br />Jesse & Joy McReynolds<br />The Pick Inn<br />Jesse McReynolds & the Virginia BoysUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-55088683884471731182010-07-22T10:55:00.000-04:002010-07-22T11:05:48.108-04:00Mountain Talk<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41q5F8EnJ63ySwcwDAyU4eYOcQairZlVEW8I2KFk1jMaDPgcxptDHOv11aNx8lCnuTQI0SIpqYe2Mn-FHQoDQGiA1o8wh1yyd11i-ycE3KAvyADJFK3lWBo823OLMtbwmzusHzaQKRKY/s1600/two+men+on+bench-Karen+Stuebing,+photographer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496745788589797266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41q5F8EnJ63ySwcwDAyU4eYOcQairZlVEW8I2KFk1jMaDPgcxptDHOv11aNx8lCnuTQI0SIpqYe2Mn-FHQoDQGiA1o8wh1yyd11i-ycE3KAvyADJFK3lWBo823OLMtbwmzusHzaQKRKY/s320/two+men+on+bench-Karen+Stuebing,+photographer.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzO0WgcXSmwcmtoNfsIKCHjV5KiIO67rJIkc1sltCVNX3AqZG_PXQzJTgrJ_yCyNtiwnj65yDXQEsP7Abi2NcYXX-syGD0bpqOxSa040qbylnsDcGJLqitD95avn8WHOS5DGdxd0TrNaE/s1600/Mountain+talk,+Glen+Lyn+Va.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496744825813449218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzO0WgcXSmwcmtoNfsIKCHjV5KiIO67rJIkc1sltCVNX3AqZG_PXQzJTgrJ_yCyNtiwnj65yDXQEsP7Abi2NcYXX-syGD0bpqOxSa040qbylnsDcGJLqitD95avn8WHOS5DGdxd0TrNaE/s320/Mountain+talk,+Glen+Lyn+Va.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Mountain Talk<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />In Appalachia, we know where you're from by the way you talk.<br /><br />By Betty Dotson-Lewis<br /><br /><br />In the corner of Appalachia where Tennessee meets Virginia, where this photo was taken, dialect is more southern. Mountaineers like to talk and you can tell what part of Appalachia people come from by the words they use. Karen Stuebing, photographer<br /><br />Hi, Y’all.<br /><br />Maps are essential in locating and describing where people live in our country. Some who are proficient in map talk, refer to latitude and longitude when pinpointing a specific state, town or region.<br /><br />However, people who live in the heart of the Appalachia region spreading across the mountains of West Virginia, southwestern Virginia, western North Carolina, northwestern South Carolina, northern Georgia, Alabama, eastern Tennessee and Kentucky are quickly and easily identified not by lines on a map, but by their dialect.<br /><br />My home is located high in the mountains of West Virginia — Latitude: 38.28 N, Longitude: 80.84. I speak the mountain dialect of the central coalfields of West Virginia: “Hi, How are Y’all? I live in the holler by a crick close to my kin.”<br /><br />My parents migrated to central West Virginia from Southwest Virginia. They held on to their Virginia accent which was noticeably different from their children’s speech. They said things like: wite, nite, lite, youins.<br /><br />West Virginia is the boundary state between the North and South. There is no single West Virginia dialect. Instead it depends on what part of the state you live in.<br /><br />For example, if you live in the northern part of the state, which borders Ohio and Pennsylvania, the accent is more northern. The primary marker being the long “l” sound. Residents in the interior of the state speak more like people from Kentucky or southern Virginia. Residents of the southern counties have a very pronounced southern twang.<br /><br />Regardless of where you live in West Virginia, we are all blessed with a bit of that southern twang. The further you go into the mountains – the more twang and colloquialism you will find.<br /><br />So, come with me on a dialect journey into the Appalachian Mountains.<br /><br />Linguists refer to the southern mountain dialect as the folk speech of Appalachia. The archaic speech can be narrowed down to sort of a Scottish-flavored Elizabethan English. Dialect variations can be traced to immigration patterns. The southeastern coalfields of West Virginia were settled by miners immigrating from Ireland, Scotland and Wales. Along the Ohio River, which was more industrialized, a large number of the immigrants came from Eastern Europe.<br /><br />There are communities in the southern part of the state that are almost entirely African-American. Mine owners brought in former slaves during the mine wars of the 1800s to replace the striking miners, and because these communities remained segregated, the dialects of the southern slaves lived on in the speech.<br /><br />I have compiled a list of words and phrases commonly used in mountain dialect and their standard English translation:<br /><br />Holped – helped
<br />Heered – heard
<br />Deef – deaf<br />Afreared – afraid<br />Blinked milk – sour milk<br />Weary – worry
<br />Near – nigh<br />Reckon – suppose
<br />Backset – Backset of the flu
<br />Ill – bad-tempered
<br />Gom – Mess
<br />Fillum – Film
<br />Pert-near – almost
<br />Ahr — hour
<br />Am-Bew-Lance — ambulance (Call an am-bew-lance.)
<br />A-mite — a little (You're lookin' a-mite peak-ed today.)
<br />Arthur-itis — arthritis (Dad’s arthur-itis is really actin' up.)
<br />Bar — bear (Llnes, tagers and bars, oh my.)
<br />Battree — battery (The car’s battree is daid.)
<br />Beholden — owe (I don't want to be beholden to you.)
<br />Briggity — egotistical (The young man is acting briggity agin.)
<br />Book Red — educated (He went to college -- he's book red.)
<br />Cheer — chair ( Pull up a cheer and set a spell.)
<br />Choirpractor — chiropractor (If you are down in the back, go to the choirpractor.)
<br />Co-cola — Coca Cola, any brown soft drink (I ordered a co-cola at the diner.)
<br />Crick – stiffness (I’ve got a crick in my neck.)
<br />Decoration Day – Memorial Day (We visited the family cemetery on Decoration Day.)
<br />Ate Up – completely infected (Dave’s ate up with the cancer.)
<br />Elm — "m" The thirteenth letter of the alphabet. (Dial Elm for Murder.)
<br />Far — fire (The mountain is on far.)
<br />Haint — ghost (from haunt) (I’m afraid I will see a haint in that house.)
<br />Hard — hired (He was the hard hand on the farm.)
<br />His people — relatives (His people came from Ireland.)
<br />Het — upset (She got het up over the contract.)
<br />Hisself – himself (He built the barn hisself.)
<br />Ideal – idea (Try to come up with a good ideal.)
<br />Ink pin – pen (Give him the ink pin.)
<br />Kin – related (He is kin to most of the people in this holler.)
<br />Outsider — A non southern West Virginian (Mountain folk are skeptical of the outsider.)
<br />Parts — neighborhood (It is good to see you back in these parts.)
<br />Pizen — poison (That snake is pizen.)
<br />Plain spoken — honest or genuine (The people trusted Jim because he was plain spoken.)
<br />Poke — bag or a sack (She carried the groceries home in a poke.)
<br />Polecat — skunk (A polecat ran under the old building.)
<br />Put Out — angry or upset (The mayor was put out with the council’s decision.)
<br />Red Light – stop light or traffic signal (My town has one red light.)
<br />Skittish — nervous (The boy was skittish when asked to recite a Bible verse.)
<br />Spell — a while. (She stayed on the mountain for a spell.)
<br />Spell — being lightheaded or dizzy. (The woman had a spell in the doctor’s office.)
<br />Thar — there (Thar's a pretty little pony in the field.)
<br />Wrastlin’ – wrestling (My son is on the wrastlin’ team.)<br />Actin' Up — hurting (His injured knee was actin’ up.)<br />Agen — against
<br />Bile – boil
<br />Brung — brought
<br />Carry — take or drive
<br />Churched — excommunicated
<br />Drug — dragged
Et — eaten
<br />Holt — hold
<br />Kindly — nearly
<br />Learned — taught
<br />Mosey — go to
<br />Pack — carry
<br />Peart — well
<br />Plumb — completely
<br />Reckon — guess
<br />Retched — reached
<br />Rinch — rinse
<br />Sangin' — digging up ginseng
<br />Worsh — wash
<br />Monday a week — next monday
<br />Shore — sure
<br />Down in the back — back injury
<br />Cut the light on — turn the light on
<br />I don’t care — Yes, please. I would like some. (Do you want more coffee? I don’t care.)
<br />Worshington - Washington<br /><br />One North Carolina scholar uses the term "constellation of features" in describing the distinctive mountain speech.<br /><br /><br />Here are some of my Kentucky relatives, Jean D. Fuller on the left and Judy D. Coyle on the right. There is a commonality between the dialect spoken in Southwestern Virginia and Eastern Kentucky.<br />For example, the letter “t” is added at the end of words such as “across” and “twice” making the words “acrosst” and “twice” becomes “twicet”. This pronunciation was common among English speakers centuries ago and Appalachia is the only region that has held on to the pronunciation.<br /><br />The pronunciation of the letter “i” is much different in certain words such as “light” and “fire” than in other parts of the U.S. “Light” sounds like “laht” and “fire” sounds like “far”.<br /><br />Hollow becomes Butcher Holler in Loretta Lynn’s song about her East Kentucky homeplace, Coalminer’s Daughter.<br /><br />Mountain folk are famous for coining their own words to express a thought or observation. The word “sigogglin,” for example, means something that is crooked.<br /><br />In rural Southern Appalachia an "n" is added to pronouns indicating "one" or ownership. So, "his'n" means "his one", "her'n" means "her one" and "yor'n" "your one," i.e., "his, hers and yours." Another example is the word “yernses” or yours. “That new car is yernses.”
Use of the word "dove" as past tense for dive, "drug" as past tense for drag and "drunk" as past tense for drink are grammatical features characteristic of older Southern American English and the newer Southern American English.<br /><br />Outsiders are often confused by the use of the word y’all, meaning the second person plural of you. When speaking about a group, y’all is general. You know the group of people as a whole. All y’all is more specific. This means you know each and every person individually in that group. Y’all can also be used with the standard “s” possessive. “I’ve got y’all’s assignments ready.”<br /><br />Here are some other expressions contributed by some of my Facebook friends:
Virginia Winebrenner Sykes: This is a good site," idn't" it? I hear so many people, including my mountain girl self, say "isn't" this way. Another one, I don't say, but have heard said is brefkast instead of breakfast.<br /><br />Anna Dennison Circle: Whoppin – whipping; boosh – bush; dropped her calf – gave birth; peak’ed – pale; gone and done it again; smitten – likes; yonder – over there; and nary – none,<br /><br />Shirley Tinney: "If'n” is a word I've heard.<br /><br />Sue Underwood Mergler: How about "over yonder"? My boys pulled me aside one day after a visit to West Virginia and wanted to know were Yonder was, because Granny was always talking about it.<br /><br />Builder Levy: Back in the early ' 70s when I was visiting and photographing in Mingo County and I would ask Nimrod Workman and other old timers I would meet, how are you doing, the answer would be, “Terrible!"<br /><br />Pat Williams: Feeling "tolable like" meaning pretty good.<br /><br />Karen Butler Britt: Stilts or Tom Walkers; toboggan-hat or sled; Jennie or mule; church key or bottle opener; leather britches aren't pants but dried green beans. Hominy is corn kernels soaked and cooked in lye to remove it from its kernel. Huckleberries are wild blueberries. Icebox was a refrigerator with a huge block of ice to keep food cool. Mule trader wasn't someone who traded mules but would trade pretty much anything for a good deal.<br /><br />Although this unique mountain dialect is changing, losing some of its distinctiveness, it is not going to disappear in the near future -- with 20 million people living in the Appalachian region.<br /><br />Bye y’all.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Comments19 July 2010 - 9:23am — editor<br />"Buddy"<br />Eastern Kentucky coal miners refer to each other (and those they are talking with) as "buddy."<br /><br />"I'll tell you now, buddy, it's hard work." "Hey, buddy, pass me some salt."<br /><br />I don't know if the use of "buddy" in this familiar, friendly way extends to West Virginia coal mining places.<br /><br />20 July 2010 - 7:14am — Tipper<br />Southern Highlands of Appalachia<br />Wonderful post!! I live in the Southern Highlands of Appalachia-born and raised as they say-and most all the words shared in this post are familiar to me. I write about all things Appalachian at www.blindpigandtheacorn.com Each month I have an Appalachian Vocabulary Test-you can go here to see them: http://www.blindpigandtheacorn.com/blind_pig_the_acorn/appalachian-dialect/<br /><br />My favorite part of your post-is where you state our lovely dialect isn't going to dissappear anytime soon-I so agree. The wonder of the Appalachian Dialect is alive and well in my neck of the woods-and I'm trying to ensure it stays that way too!!<br /><br />Thank you for celebrating our rich language.<br /><br />Tipper<br /><br />20 July 2010 - 8:19am — shaina<br />Fixin<br /><br />One thing I didn't see on the list that I say and hear people say all the time is, "fixin".<br /><br />Like, "I'm fixin to leave."<br /><br />A friend of mines brother from New Hampshire heard me say that and said, "You're fixin? What are you fixin?" So I had to explain to him that it meant, about to.<br /><br /><br />20 July 2010 - 9:19am — Dr.Townsend<br />Our phrases<br />Even though I went off to school and came back, I feel that I did lose some of my accent. I realize that I should be proud of my Appalachian twang and the phrases my parents used (and I still use).<br /><br />I was in Connecticut a few years ago. I was at a conference and someone asked me how I was going to get back to the airport in a couple days. I told them that I had a ticket to take a shuttle van back to the airport. The new colleague said, "Would you like to ride with me to the airport." I responded, "I wouldn't care to." She looked at me funny and asked, "Does that mean you want a ride or you don't want a ride?" ... www.dailyyonder.com</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-1384512468204624662010-07-06T09:33:00.000-04:002010-07-06T09:59:47.950-04:00Robert C. Byrd's successor<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6MxTpMXXdgsne5HsFgPVOmJBLHFJRmw3vyw08fjAXAyEeHArC-UftWnN5gviB46VkFMc_w59JhLC0DyQejwBBV42hWtUKgn8BEPA5rzxIlkkk63L8vFAcpGkC-SlZGZI3-P-lO8TsdI/s1600/Byrd+with+Martha+Ann+McIntosh.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490791882055698946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 249px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6MxTpMXXdgsne5HsFgPVOmJBLHFJRmw3vyw08fjAXAyEeHArC-UftWnN5gviB46VkFMc_w59JhLC0DyQejwBBV42hWtUKgn8BEPA5rzxIlkkk63L8vFAcpGkC-SlZGZI3-P-lO8TsdI/s400/Byrd+with+Martha+Ann+McIntosh.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>West Virginia's newspapers are filled with questions, comments regarding the successor to West Virginia's Senate seat of Robert C. Byrd. Byrd died on June 27, 2010 at the age of 92. He was the longest serving Senator.<br /><br />Age and length of sevice are important but more importantly is what Byrd's life represented. He was orphaned at the age of one or two so he never really knew his parents. An aunt and uncle adopted him and moved him from his birth state of North Carolina to the coalfields of southern West Virginia.<br /><br />His adopted father made a living for the family by working in and around the coal mines. The family moved around to different coal camps. Byrd, at a young age, adopted the strongest work ethics and a strong desire for education. He loved his country. His desire to serve led him to politics. He made bad mistakes but he acknowledged those mistakes and told his people why he acted as he did. He said that he became a member of the KKK to gain political support from powerful people -<br />rich people who could help him win elections.<br /><br />While I was working on my first book on Appalachia - titled: Appalachia Spirit Triumphant (a cultural odyssey of Appalachia by B. L. Dotson-Lewis (2004) I called Sen. Byrd's office frequently. I spoke with Martha Ann McIntosh, his assistant. She arranged for me to get a story about Robert C. Byrd for my book. She told if I could come to D.C. she felt positive I could see Byrd in person. I never did get to go.<br /><br />I did meet him in Beckley at the Regional Airport. I heard he was coming in so I asked a friend, Joan Moore, if she wanted to go over and meet Sen. Byrd. We met him as he got off the plane. He was so nice and friendly. He hugged us. He was warm and kind.<br /><br />For all the talk about Sen. Byrd's replacement - it cannot happen. Whomever gets the seat - it is a filler - not a replacement. Robert C. Byrd was one of a kind. He was our West Virginian.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-66176223767819334642010-07-01T08:12:00.000-04:002010-07-01T09:24:13.656-04:00Mountaintop Removal<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65pXIhP753XMpVtam_hrbW-7Plk_uExTkGrn0WBpQGhaKGxMPpxy56gcQ2F5kxPp9iJZlALwYkhHjDloKDxprNNKjHpYJG4TZMdVpQGTbp0_5V3LnY-p6l5Z7BKjSADra8H7X81Fb5xc/s1600/massey_marsh_fork_elementary.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488927610975732898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 307px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65pXIhP753XMpVtam_hrbW-7Plk_uExTkGrn0WBpQGhaKGxMPpxy56gcQ2F5kxPp9iJZlALwYkhHjDloKDxprNNKjHpYJG4TZMdVpQGTbp0_5V3LnY-p6l5Z7BKjSADra8H7X81Fb5xc/s400/massey_marsh_fork_elementary.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />By Betty Dotson-Lewis<br />As a resident of West Virginia, the mountaintop removal area I have firsthand information on the mining method. I can see the smooth crest of the mountain which used to be a jagged natural rise (a sludge pond is behind that smoothness) from my home. One sludge pond is right above a facility which used to house an elementary school until the school was closed. Now, the facility houses a home for wayward children.<br /><br /><br />I too, like Silas House, encourage the President to take an aerial journey over our destroyed heritage, our mountains. However, I believe some of the reasons the past, present and future of mountaintop removal remains in the hands of (our) West Virginia politicians. When top ranking officials are in favor of mountaintop removal and tell those in D.C. West Virginia cannot survive without this form of the removal of coal - why would a President think differently. Also, the miners are scared to death there will be no other jobs and even though for many it is not their choice of coal mining - they think it is better than welfare.<br /><br />Please understand until our state top ranking political officials take a stand to stop mountaintop removal - it is going to be very difficult to get the President to stop this devastation to one of the most beautiful, rugged mountain regions in Appalachia.<br /><br /><br />PS. I do believe Sen. Byrd was lending in the direction of finding alternative methods - now, he is gone. We can only pray that Gov. Manchin will appoint a successor who cares more about the people and the environment (the mountains) than huge, profit making absentee coal barons.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-1592725146279442242010-06-30T22:32:00.000-04:002010-06-30T22:36:18.688-04:00The Mountain Eagle -July 31, 1975THE MOUNTAIN EAGLE....WHITESBURG, LETCHER COUNTY, KENTUCKY..THURSDAY, JULY 31, 1975<br /> Can presidential candidates face mountain issues?<br />By JAMES BRANSCOME <br /> The Appalachian states will elect the next President of the United States. They will also determine through their primaries who will be the Democratic nominee.<br /> Those statements are, of course, speculative but no more so than most of the guessing that passes for political analysis on the 'op-ed' pages of the daily newspapers. So, we're entitled to our own unsyndicated divining.<br /> Without getting bogged down in geography, the mountain coalfields alone will have five preferential primaries next year in which to choose among the horde of Democrats who fancy themselves capable of lobbing the first bomb, vetoing the most bills, and taping their every utterance--all talents that seem to have become standard fare for the office in one variation or another after the electorate and presidents discovered that bureaucrats, not presidents, have really run the country ever since the passage of the Civil Service law in 1883.<br /> But charade or not, mountain folks have an unequal chance to decide whose wife, dog, swimming pool, and belly scars the county will have to live with for the next four years.<br /> Assuming that no frontrunner skunks everyone else through the New Hampshire and Florida primaries, the field will then be left open for the Democratic candidates to argue that no clear consensus will have merged until they have all had a chance to test their strength in the South and Midwest against each other and particularly against George Wallace. That raises the prospect that delegate bagging and media courting will last all the way to at least the West Virginia primary, which in 1960 made the decisive choice between Kennedy and Humphrey.<br /> The varied political history of the mountains and the mountain states makes these areas unusual testing grounds for candidate-picking. This is especially true when gut issues and not glamour are what the race is all about, as may be the case this year if Kennedy decides to forego the campaign. The region constantly swaps parties and voting patterns, as evidenced by Bill Brock's defeat of Albert Gore in Tennessee, Wendell Ford's defeat of Marlowe Cook in Kentucky, and Arch Moore's defeat of John D. Rockefeller IV in West Virginia.<br /> The matter goes even deeper than that, however, West Virginia has the most highly unionized labor force in the country; North Carolina, the least organized Eastern Kentucky has a Republican district right beside a Democratic one, as does the Blue Ridge of North Carolina. There is a moderate Byrd in West Virginia and an apple butter Byrd in Virginia.<br /> But on top of that, the mountain sections all, have one thing in common;<br />the largest concentration of unemployed, underemployed, non-middle class voters in the United States. And, with few exceptions, they also share a history of little grass roots action to pick a candidate whose platform matches the region's needs.<br /> Participation in politics as a means of social change is a highly arguable proposition, especially in a region where power is concentrated in the economic and governmental institutions in a way it isn't in the rest of America. Corporate executives, Tennessee Valley Authority board members, and Forest Service bureaucrats don't have to be elected to office.<br /> Yet the political process is the only alternative available to those social change advocates in the region whose other approaches in the last decade have produced about as much "social change" as one scoop out of an abandoned hen house.<br /> Anyway, the politicians are headed toward the mountains, and we might as well prepare to demand something from them rather than having to endue the usual slop that the speech writers and the media pour out every time they campaign down this way. <br /> North Carolina could prove an interesting primary. There, favorite son, Terry Sanford will be trying to prove that he can beat George Wallace on home turf. Sanford, the president of Duke University and an avid golfer, at the most exclusive resort in the Blue Ridge, will tee off a campaign claiming that he, not Wallace, is the friend of the little man.<br /> Guessing the outcome of a primary in the North Carolina mountains is hazardous business. That section is home for both Sen. Sam Ervin and Gov. James Holshouser, the latter a right-winger from Boone who is close to setting a record for incompetence in an office that has never amounted to much in that state. Come to think of it, Sen. Ervin's only claim to merit before Watergate was that he had read the Constitution and could tell pretty good jokes poking fun at the moonshiners over in Avery County.<br /> North Carolina somehow has gained a national reputation as a liberal state. I presume that the reason is that an inordinate number of New York Times reporters, including columnist Tom Wicker, claim to have been born there. Regardless, the animosity the mountain folks feel toward flatlanders could be capitalized upon by someone other than Wallace if the effort is made.<br /> With the abolition of the winner-take-all primaries in the Democratic races, sectional differences like those in North Carolina give agrarian reformers like Fred Harris a chance to pick up a few delegates. Resort developments, high property taxes, dams, and the Forest Service are major issues in that area that only the Wallaceites may be astute enough to spot.<br /> Sanford claims already to have Virginia sewed up with the support of Henry Howell, a perennial candidate for office on the liberal ticket. He may have a chance in the Old Dominion where primaries are not allowed, but it may be another matter in Kentucky, where the party establishment loves him like they did Muskie in 1972. Having the established politicians behind him killed Muskie. But Sanford may not make it to Kentucky, because he may be beaten by either Wallace or Jimmy Carter of Georgia in his home state.<br /> The West Virginia primary takes on added significance next year because of the United mine Workers reforms that allow the miners to have a say in which Democrat they will endorse. The candidates, including Texas millionaire Sen. Lloyd Bentsen, have already been courting the union hierarchy. Whether the new leadership will resist the pressures of the Washington kingmakers to whom it owes some favors for its own elections )such as Joseph Rauh, a liberal big wheel in party circles, who did much of the legal work that made the union reform possible) remains to be seen. With every vote in the primaries now counting for the convention regardless of the state winners, miners in West Virginia--a total of about 40,000--may not vote the straight union ticket.<br /> The revival of the Ku Klux Klan in the mountains--an, area from which it has always been banned--suggests a frustration that folks want things done differently. Significantly, there appears to be little sympathy for Wallace in the mountains. That raises the possibility that the Democratic horde can be forced to run on the issues in the mountains.<br /> It all seems important enough to write some more about, so beginning next week, I'll take a look at what one frontrunner, Sen. Henry "Scott" Jackson, is worth to the region. He has a 400 horsepower mouth on energy issues, but he seems to produce only putt-putt legislation.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-58750307725711240062010-06-29T15:45:00.000-04:002010-06-29T15:47:09.791-04:00In the Midst of Poverty by Pat GishPat Gish speaks out on newspaper reporting <br /> Mountain Eagle newspaper, Whitesburg, KY<br /> <br />Nieman Reports<br />The Nieman Foundation for Journalism at Harvard University<br />Vol. 53 No. 2 Summer 1999<br />War Crimes, Human Rights and Press Freedom:<br />The Journalist's Job<br /><br />--------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><br />In the Midst of Poverty,<br />People's Stories are Hard to Tell<br />Small Staffs, Lack of Resources, and Families' Fear of Reprisals<br />Add to Difficulties in Coverage<br />By Pat Gish<br /><br />Twenty-one Appalachian counties lie along or near eastern Kentucky's border with Virginia. It was the people who live here who gained national attention in the early 1960's when New York Times reporter Homer Bigart came to the Kentucky mountains and reported what he saw and heard. Bigart was drawn to eastern Kentucky by the book "Night Comes to the Cumberlands: A Biography of a Depressed Area," written by Harry M. Caudill, an attorney who grew up in one of those counties and came back home to practice law.<br /><br />What Bigart saw and reported became fodder for policy discussions in the Kennedy White House when the first of his articles appeared on a Sunday in October 1963. President Kennedy moved immediately to get help into the area, and those 21 counties later became a principal focus of President Johnson's War on Poverty. In the nearly 35 years since that war was declared, many things have changed for the better. But much of the deep poverty and the consequences it brings to families who experience it remains.<br /><br />The Kentucky State Data Center in Louisville, which keeps track of population and social circumstances that the census tracks, reported in April that the poverty rate had decreased in all but one of these 21 Appalachian counties from 1989 to 1995. The center keeps records by groups of counties known as "area development districts" (ADD), and the 21 counties are divided into three such districts. The decreases are not large, one percent in one ADD, 2.5 percent in another and 2.7 percent in the third but at least they are decreases. During this same period the median household income rose by more than $6,000 in each development district.<br /><br />Beneath those statistics there lies a continuing thread to the stories that Bigart uncovered. In these three districts live nearly one quarter of Kentuckians whose incomes place them at poverty level or below. In 1989 the total was 165,856 persons, or 24 percent of all state residents in poverty, and in 1995 it was 162,496, or 23.5 percent of the state number. And four of the five Kentucky counties with the highest percentages of residents at poverty level are included in these districts. Three of these counties are included in the Kentucky River ADD, which has an overall poverty level of 33.6 percent, the highest of any development district in the state.<br /><br />In Owsley County, the state's poorest, 46.6 percent of all residents and 65.4 percent of residents under 18 are considered to be living at poverty level or below. In adjoining Lee County, 39.1 percent of all persons and 54.7 percent of those under 18 are poor. In Wolfe County, which lies next to Lee County, 38.9 percent of all residents and 57.2 percent of all under 18 live at poverty level or below. Magoffin County, the fourth in this group, is a part of the Big Sandy district; 38 percent of all its residents are considered to be in poverty and 51.2 percent of those under 18.<br /><br />In January, payments to families in Kentucky's Transitional Assistance Program (K-TAP), formerly known as Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC), averaged $224.15 per family, or $94.69 per person. All of these families are past the first 30 months of the five-year period during which they can receive their lifetime allotment of welfare money. State family services workers in public assistance programs in all 21 counties are trying to find ways of getting jobs for these families when their five-year transition period ends. Committees which include workers for the Kentucky Cabinet for Families and Children and interested private citizens are meeting frequently to look at possible solutions, but so far the results are discouraging. In my county, Letcher County, a new data entry company has set up shop and has hired some workers who were receiving K-TAP money. But those 15 jobs represent only 2.3 percent of the 680 families in the K-TAP program in this one county. The question now is what to do about the other 97.7 percent.<br /><br />Two years ago, a group of citizens in Letcher County, where I live, got together to write a proposal to the state Cabinet for Families and Children on how welfare reform might be carried out in our county. I was not a part of that group, but The Mountain Eagle, the local weekly newspaper that my husband and I have published for the past 42 years, carried the proposal in full. And since its publication, we have followed its slow progress. The group spent five months developing the plan, which was completed in October 1997. The planners had three goals: to create a diversified, strong local economy, to find new ways of attracting capital into the county, and to assure a better way of life for Letcher county children.<br /><br />The plan proposed a new local credit union to help low-income families; a new small business technology cooperative specializing in digital service industries; a business development network using retired and active businesspeople as trainers; a program to train people to repair existing homes and to build new ones; more child-care services, which also could train welfare mothers to care for other people's children in their own homes; classes to move welfare recipients into jobs in the health care industry; creation of wood industry jobs by expanding existing businesses or helping people create new ones to use the area's large supply of timber, and establishment of a "one-stop shopping center" where welfare recipients trying to make it on their own could get help with counseling, education, job placement and other services.<br /><br />A representative of the state Cabinet for Families and Children has promised to come to Letcher County soon to look at possible quarters for the one-stop center. The other proposals in the plan are still being discussed. Meanwhile, several groups of interested citizens have been meeting every month with the state workers responsible for getting the 680 families in our county off welfare and into some kind of work.<br /><br />The fundamental problem is that the jobs are not here, and the families are not equipped to move away. One group of local businessmen is meeting every month to look at possible job development. Another group of church and welfare workers and interested citizens meets to look at problems and possibilities; I have attended most of this group's meetings. The Eagle tries to keep up also with what the businessmen's group is doing, but it meets on Monday night, which is deadline night at the newspaper, and we can't always free someone to attend.<br /><br />This problem of small staffs and little time is one that was cited frequently by editors and writers at other eastern Kentucky newspapers when I called to find out what problems they were having in covering welfare reform. Most of the papers are weekly; a few publish two or three issues a week. There are two small dailies. When I asked whether papers had provided coverage and if they had any difficulties getting information, these were some of the responses:<br /><br />"We haven't covered it as much as we should. We've included all the wire-service [AP] stories. It's hard to get a local angle and we're kind of short-staffed. In the near future we're going to do an in-depth story on it."<br /><br />"No, not really. That's on my list. It takes so much personal research."<br /><br />"A lot of people in our area are shifting from AFDC to SSI (Supplemental Security Income). It doesn't have any cutoff date." (We agreed that we admired their ingenuity.)<br /><br />"I don't expect we'll get people complaining to us until the [five-year] deadline gets nearer."<br /><br />"We've had a little coverage, but nothing lately, nothing we have generated. It's difficult to devote reporter time. We don't have enough staff to give time or attention to issues beyond breaking news. It's sad to say when there are so many people involved, but it's hit or miss with us."<br /><br />"We have an interest in it, but have we covered anything? Not really. I would want to devote study to it. Local people here are afraid to have their names out."<br /><br />"It's hard to get much out of the local social services department, but we have done some coverage on a welfare-to-work program and the area development district has been very helpful to us. We have only two people, and we haven't had much time to devote to it."<br /><br />"We have stayed on top of Vision 2000, but information from that is a lot lighter now. They've let up on what they're sending us." (Vision 2000 is a state-set standard for local welfare reform efforts.)<br /><br />"We've had a couple of stories, but our coverage has been kind of limited. The biggest problem is that some people don't want to be identified. We don't get a lot of releases from the local agencies, and also we're limited on space."<br /><br />"I have found people very willing to talk and give information."<br /><br />"To tell you the truth, we haven't really tried."<br /><br />"We've done a few stories. We've talked with people who would lose their welfare and what alternatives they might have. We've also used AP stories. We should probably deal with it more than we have. It seems always to be there."<br /><br />"We haven't run into too much of a problem. We've been to two years of meetings. We got into doing that and have been fairly successful in getting most of the information we've needed. Last year in our 'progress edition' we did a whole section on welfare reform. We haven't done too much lately."<br /><br />"Cover welfare reform? Not really, other than releases. I hadn't even thought to check into that."<br /><br />The Wall Street Journal recently carried a long, moving article describing the trials of one eastern Kentucky woman who accepted a grant from the state of Kentucky and relocated to the Cincinnati area after receiving training in her home area. That article, which followed the woman and her family over an entire year, would have filled a large part of the news space in any eastern Kentucky weekly and certainly took more time, energy and money than small county newspapers can afford.<br /><br />A reporter for The Cleveland Plain Dealer recently spent a week in Letcher County looking at welfare reform issues and other aspects of eastern Kentucky life. He did this story as part of a series of articles about the 35th anniversary of the War on Poverty. He also had ample time and resources to assemble the information he needed.<br /><br />The Louisville Courier-Journal, Kentucky's largest daily, recently completed a six-month study of welfare reform in eastern Kentucky and published the results in a three-day series titled "Welfare Dilemma in Eastern Kentucky." In the paper's issues of May 2, 3 and 4, that series took up a total of eight and a fourth full-size newspaper pages. It required two reporters, a photographer and a graphics artist. The small newspapers in eastern Kentucky do not have the resources to provide that kind of coverage.<br /><br />A reporter for a large Kentucky daily newspaper said it was difficult to find welfare recipients to be interviewed for feature stories on the problems or the successes of welfare reform. Cooperation from local offices of the state welfare system was not good. Local state employees were not willing to ask questions of recipients and relay information to reporters. Recipients were afraid to talk to reporters and didn't want their pictures taken. State welfare officials were upset by questions from news reporters and tended to be "a little bit defensive."<br /><br />In eastern Kentucky jobs are scarce for everybody and especially for un trained or inexperienced workers. "You can't put a person in training on how to work a mop for five years," the reporter at this large Kentucky paper pointed out. "It's a national issue. State officials shouldn't be so thin-skinned." In one instance, this reporter had been talking with a welfare recipient for some time about her problems, but after a call from an official in the Cabinet for Families and Children in Frankfort (our state capital) the woman would no longer return the reporter's telephone calls. Presumably she had been told by someone in the state or local welfare office that she should not talk with reporters.<br /><br />Fear of losing jobs or benefit checks is not new to people in the Kentucky mountains. For many years local politicians and/or coal company officials had almost total control over the lives of many mountain families. A coal miner who did or said something his bosses didn't like could find his furniture out on the street when he returned to his company-owned house. For many years, local political powers had a major say about who received welfare and who didn't. Those lessons were absorbed quickly and thoroughly. Tales about such punishment perhaps have become embellished over the years, but they continue to affect mountain residents' actions.<br /><br />Welfare recipients who live here have good reason to be hesitant about talking to reporters. It's part of the legacy of their forebears' lives and circumstances, but it does make it difficult for those who genuinely want to learn about their situation and tell others so that positive changes can occur, as Bigart's effort shows they can.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Pat Gish has lived in Letcher County for the past 42 years. She grew up in central Kentucky and her husband, Tom, grew up in a Letcher County coal camp. Married since 1948, they bought The Mountain Eagle in 1957, a weekly which they and their children still operate.<br />Why Identify Welfare Recipients or Quote Incorrect Grammar?<br />At The Mountain Eagle newspaper we do not use photographs of welfare recipients as welfare recipients. It's hard enough to have to be one without having to face the prospect of someone taunting you or your kids over a circumstance beyond your control.<br /><br />We do, of course, use their pictures in different circumstances, such as a birthday, engagement, wedding or school honor.<br /><br />We also use correct grammar when we are quoting someone, welfare recipient or not. Our observation is that newspapers generally do not quote any other group of Americans in dialect whether they are Kennedys in Massachusetts, Dodger fans in Brooklyn, Mexican-Americans in California, or African-Americans in Alabama. We see no reason why Appalachian residents should be challenged for speech brought here by settlers from the British Isles centuries ago.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-7635000647071677332010-06-29T15:40:00.000-04:002012-06-18T22:49:41.846-04:00The Case for Appalachian Studies by Jim BranscomeThe development of Appalachia has varied tremendously from one part of the mountains to the next, depending upon geography, availability of natural resources such as coal, timber and water, and historical circumstances such as early settlement patterns of the choosing of sides in the Civil War. But the major factor in creating the complex social, economic and political problems of today came with the gradual industrialization of the area over the past 70 to 80 years.<br />
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The reaction of mountaineers to industrialization is one of the most misunderstood and untold stories of American ethnic history. Usually, the more industrialized a particular area has become, the more the people seem to be like most Americans; but in Appalachia, these are only surface appearances. Appalachia today is still primarily an agrarian region where the way of life developed over 200 years of pioneer settlement retains a strong and lasting hold upon the people.<br />
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If these elements of a pioneer culture are unique in comparison to the rest of America, it is because geography and historical circumstances have combined to lessen the impact of industrialization upon the people. For example, there are still people today who live entirely off the land, needing only salt, guns and steel tools and some cloth from local stores for outside necessities.<br />
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However, most mountain people have had contact with some forms of industry. Despite this, the practical outlook of the pioneer life and the tough individualism which made it possible still form the basis for many social attitudes and values practiced today.<br />
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Historically, the first white settlers were the frontiersmen or "grazers" who talked of "elbow room" and who wanted no nearby neighbors. What they were saying in economic terms was that they needed a great deal of woodland to profitably maintain their large herds of cattle and hogs, which ran wild in the woods, living off nuts, roots, and undergrowth. For over 100 years the main source of income for these residents was livestock. In the middle 1800's, an estimated 150,000 hogs and thousands of head of cattle moved through Asheville, the marketing center for western North Carolina. Further north, an estimated 81,000 head of swine, alone, came through the Cumberland Gap from East Tennessee and East Kentucky.<br />
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Hard on the heels of these early settlers were the real agricultural farmers who sought out the major river valleys where land could be cleared for larger farms. To maintain these farms some capital and a large labor force was needed, and many of these early farms had slaves. With this group also came the merchants and storekeepers who provided the essentials and luxuries which could not be manufactured locally. Also, from this group came the educated individuals who could operate the schools and academies which sprang up wherever communities were large enough to pay a teacher and provide a building. Generally, both groups of settlers were of similar origin, being British, Scots, Irish, with a sprinkling of Dutch or German.<br />
By the middle of the 1800's, the South was still primarily an agricultural economy, and even that economy had a limited effect on the land. For example, in 1860, only one-fifth of the total land surface in North Carolina was cleared and in use. In Tennessee, the figure was 23 per cent. Kentucky had 31 per cent, and these were figures for the entire state. In the rougher mountainous regions, only isolated patches of land were under cultivation.<br />
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With the coming of the Civil War and then the Compromise of 1876 (in which Northern railroad men and bankers agreed to invest heavily in the South in return for electing Rutherford Hayes president), a new chapter began in mountain history. The Civil War's effect upon the South was pronounced. Most of its native manufacturing industry and agricultural economy was destroyed. The railroads lay in ruins. The industrial base of the South, limited as it had been, was devastated. The mountain areas, isolated and with a more independent economy, did not suffer as badly as did the more populous areas, but the results of the war and the Compromise were to have a major impact there too.<br />
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The first incursions into the mountains were tenuous ones. Railroads were built into the major river valleys and along the mountain ranges to larger market centers or to sources of coal and timber. Along the foothills, where waterfalls marked the Piedmont plain, textile mills were established to take advantage of cheap water power. By 1890, the industrialization of the area was well underway.<br />
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But this process was a gradual one. Geography, local politics and a lack of knowledge about the interior slowed the advance of most businessmen. In fact, in the early 1900's, where Horace Kephart, in Boston, was trying to find the remotest spot in America, he chose western North Carolina because he could find little in writing or detail on maps about that particular area. When Kephart came South, he found the timber and coal companies had already begun major operations. In fact, from 1890 to 1930, the timber companies managed to strip away the greatest hardwood forest on the American continent. By the late 1930's, only isolated stands of virgin timber on the most remote slopes of the southern highlands had escaped the saws of the timberman. In the mountain coalfields, mining was already a major operation, marked by harsh living conditions and bloody strikes.<br />
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Even so, in all these areas, the local residents clung to values and life styles which made them more and more unique as the majority of Americans moved into the so-called "midstream" of western society. But the varying forms of economic development also had diverse effects on particular areas.<br />
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For example, in the highlands of western North Carolina, people managed to keep their traditional family holdings while also taking jobs in the mills and factories built along the larger waterways. In this area, as is true in most of the region where people still live and work on farms, the traditional mountain culture is clearly visible. The people have ancestral roots and their stories, parables, and music are keyed to a long and stable relationship to the land around them. Family ties and neighborhood attachments may date back through several generations. The pace of life is still based upon a time cycle of seasons or years.<br />
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The eight-hour day is still a minor factor (but an increasingly important one) in the development of their values and lifestyle.<br />
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In the coalfields of central Appalachia, industrial development took an entirely different turn, and the result has been a reaction quite distant from that of other rural areas. In central Appalachia, most of the land is owned by land-holding companies or coal companies. Railroads were built into mine locations and companies built entire towns or coal camps to house the thousands of workers needed to run the mines. Gradually, over a period of years, local mountaineers were lured down from their farms to the camps by the glitter of high wages and material benefits. Unscrupulous land speculators and coal operators cheated early settlers out of their lands by convincing them to sign away their heritage for a few dollars in periods of hard times or personal financial crisis. Other thousands of workers and their families were brought in by railroad car to work the mines. The result is the most densely populated rural area in the country where it is quite common to find three or four thousand residents strung out along a narrow hollow or roadway. In these settlements, most of the people are dependent upon coal mining or government subsidy for income.<br />
Because they do not own the land and because there is rarely space for a garden, many have lost the traditional farming skills. But despite the fact that some skills have disappeared, the people have kept the attitudes and values familiar to anyone traveling from one part of the mountains to another. Along with these values they have also clung to their own separate identity - an approach to life which is quite distinct from middle America. This fact can clearly be seen in the large migrant colonies of the North where thousands of mountain people have been forced to migrate over the past 20 years as mines closed down and small farmers were unable to meet mortgages or compete with larger farms.<br />
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Despite the fact that migrant families may be a thousand miles from home, they retain the old family structures and the same highly personalized relationships to the people around them. It's not uncommon to talk with a migrant who still defines "home" as the hills of East Kentucky or Tennessee despite the fact that he may have lived in Detroit or Chicago for past twenty years. Certainly, anywhere mountain people have settled, the easiest identifiable part of the culture is the music - whether it be traditional mountain ballads or the more modern bluegrass or country music. But the cultural roots and the common identity which form the basis for personal pride, go much deeper than simply playing music. Along with the Blacks, Appalachians form the largest single ethnic group in America -- a fact even most Appalachians are just beginning to realize.<br />
A rising awareness of Appalachia's unique place in American history is slowly developing among mountain people. With little doubt, one of the largest factors influencing this rise in consciousness has been the increasing willingness of American Blacks to stand up for their rights and teach other Americans that minorities have a place in American life and that their contributions, and their differences, are legitimate and should form the basis of pride -- not shame. Blacks, overall, form a very small percentage of the total mountain population (about 6 per cent by some estimates) but they have taken leadership roles in building poor people's organizations out of all proportions to their numbers. This has been particularly true in the coalfields, where Blacks were brought in to work the mines and settled in relatively large communities.<br />
In these areas, especially in Kentucky and West Virginia, Black individuals have played leading roles in building unions, welfare rights organizations, tenant rights groups, and other groups organized to represent grassroots interests.<br />
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In the face of massive problems throughout the area, the major task facing Appalachians today is to develop leaders who are authentic and who can respond to the genuine needs of the people, not to the large industrial interests who have laid waste to the area for the past eight decades.<br />
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But any discussion of local leadership must sooner or later deal with the role the public school system has played in mountain life. The development of the modern school has paralleled the rise of the modern industrial state and schools tend to follow the same structures and operate upon the same assumptions as the institutions they serve.<br />
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The same patterns of thought, i.e., authority and discipline needed in business are also carried over into schools. It is not without accident that the most conspicuous element of Appalachian schools is the emphasis placed upon discipline and submission to authority. Along with this "outside" emphasis has been added the natural influence of a culture which, due to rigors of frontier life, was oriented along authoritarian lines in family life -- although adult relationships were based on staunchly equalitarian ideas.<br />
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Education in America has always been an avenue of escape for ambitious youth eager to leave home for the lure of big cities or adventure in a new and unfamiliar world. Such is still the case in Appalachia where thousands of young people have left the region to enter the military services, the mills and factories in the North, or (more rarely) to attend college. Large numbers of mountain born Americans have gone on to distinguished careers in government and industry, but the school system which sends them out of the region has also contributed enormously to the lack of enlightened local leadership which exists throughout the area.<br />
The role of the school in mountain communities is inherently a political one, given the nature of mountain politics and life. Since the earliest days of settlement, only a very small percentage of mountain-born Americans have ever been able to finish secondary school, and an even smaller number have entered college. In Appalachia, as is true in the rest of the country, it is usually the children of those already affluent or educated who succeed in finishing school. Many of these formally educated mountaineers leave the region, preferring jobs elsewhere. Of those who do return home, many do so out of family ties, loyalties, or because of job security.<br />
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But there is another factor operating here. In most places in America there is a choice of jobs for college graduates, either in business or governmental social services. But in Appalachia, especially in economically depressed areas, the school system is often one of the largest stable employers in a county. Thus, the school system very quickly becomes a focal point for patronage since the school board and superintendent are usually elected officials. In practice, this means that the only people able to hold jobs in schools are those with family ties or political loyalties to politicians already in power.<br />
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The result is politically controlled education, and, in turn, an attitude of compliance and a general unwillingness by educated people to criticize or question commonly accepted practices. It goes, almost without saying, that in such situations innovative or experimental educational practices are discouraged or halted. When this attitude is coupled with the differences in lifestyles, class and religion of most college graduates compared to community residents (even though the teachers may be natives), it is understandable that most of the community views the general school system with distrust and suspicion.<br />
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The attempts to impose, through the schools, another culture and a system of values upon mountain people has meant that the schools have become alienating forces and isolated from the people.<br />
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Despite the pressures of years of forced schooling, despite the daily bombardment of TV and other mass media which present a stereotyped and degrading image of the mountaineer, Appalachians have maintained their own set of values and practices which are quite distinct from those of middle America. If nothing else, the high dropout rates, which run over 50% in some schools, are indications of the failure of American education to assimilate the mountain individual into mainstream American society.<br />
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It is worth mentioning here that the idea of "dropping out," which has gained acceptance recently in middle-class America, has been a hallmark of Appalachian resistance to middle America for more than a century.<br />
Education for most Appalachians has meant learning to live outside the regular way of life, and the American public school system must be viewed as a force imposed upon the people -- not as a tool of their own creation. Because of this, any individual who has gone through 12 years of public school and then several more years of college, is usually viewed with suspicion. The willingness to submit to 12-18 years of humiliating ritual in order to be certified as sane by most Americans is usually an indication of alienation from<br />
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Appalachian culture.<br />
Perhaps the most important question to ask about schools is: "What kind of society do we want to create?" The answer to this question will determine the structure and intent of any school. Therefore, if the answer is a democratic form of government and society, then the school will need to reflect democratic concepts and processes. If the answer is a totalitarian government, then the schools would need to reflect that concept.<br />
The present Appalachian school systems do not, by any stretch of the imagination, begin to represent an attempt to build democratic beliefs. With their heavy reliance upon force, authority, compliance, and physical repression, it is little wonder that the typical Appalachian views it with suspicion and bitterness.<br />
Few of the returning migrants from Chicago to Breathitt County, Kentucky -- and there are an increasing number of them -- probably ever heard of Mike Royko or read his book Boss. And even if they did read it, they would probably be bored by all its descriptions of Mayor Daley's doings; for, in Breathitt County, "Ma" Turner and her clan have been out-doing Daley for thirty years. In Breathitt County, they say that the only thing that the Turners don't control is the flood-prone Kentucky River, and that "Ma" hasn't stopped it because it always floods the home of one of her few remaining rivals.<br />
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The Turners came to power in the Depression days by controlling patronage jobs provided by the government's public works programs. Using this patronage, they gained control of all locally elective offices, including the school board. Though "Ma" herself is no longer school superintendent, one of her chosen is. She has always seen to it that the county judge, the county's chief fiscal and administrative officer, is close kin to herself or her late husband, himself a county judge. Her daughter, Treva Howell, is the director of the four-county Middle Kentucky River Community Action Program, which controls Head Start and several job programs. Treva had some trouble keeping her job during the Nunn administration -- a Republican one that frowned upon the blatancy of "Ma's" Democratic machine -- but the Governor lost. Treva's husband Jeff is the representative to the Kentucky General Assembly from Breathitt. Jeff had a little problem getting elected again last year -- he didn't receive the most votes -- but a special committee of the General Assembly found some "irregularities" in a couple of precincts and named him the winner. Jerry Fonce Howell -- close kin again -- is a former State Senator who chairs the board of the eight-county Kentucky River Area Development District, which controls all Appalachian Regional Commission money directly that comes into the area and, indirectly, passes on all federal funds coming into the area except for Social Security.<br />
The Breathitt County school system -- as are most in Appalachia -- is the largest single employer. With seventy-five per cent of the people on welfare, the Turners usually have plenty of applications for the jobs of teachers, janitors, school bus drivers, etc. Kinship is the main criteria for employment, and lacking that, a person can usually get a job if both he and his kin (and their ancestors) have had a loyal voting record.<br />
Ostensibly, in spite of this control, the school system continues to improve. New buildings are obvious. Only one of them was built entirely with ESEA Title I funds, something which the law says may be illegal. The Turners got around that by naming the school "LBJ Elementary" and getting "Lady Bird" down to dedicate it. The Nunn administration tried to raise a stink about the school's funding, but "Ma" got a blue-ribbon state elementary school. That shut everybody up. The Turner family is well connected with national Democratic politics, particularly with Representative Carl Perkins, who represents the interests of Breathitt County well as chairman of the House Education and Labor Committee. "Well" is used here in the sense that he keeps the patronage money coming and doesn't bother about strip mining, something which the Turner family is also involved in.<br />
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Most of the teachers hired in Breathitt County are offspring of present teachers or students chosen even in high school as the ones to return and teach after graduation. Most of them also are trained at one of two of the state's teacher institutions, just like their parents and former teachers before them. The teaching faculty at these institutions are products of the same kind of school system themselves and are careful not to implant any "foreign" ideas in their students' minds. It is these same institutions, too, which receive the federal EPDA monies to improve the deficiencies found in their former students' classroom performance. All in all, it is a vicious cycle where what is important knowledge-wise is how to maintain the present system.<br />
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The power of families like the Turners over the educational system is not eroding. The first week in June the Kentucky River Area Development District announced that it had been granted authority to develop and administer an "over-all educational plan" for the eight counties under its influence in eastern Kentucky. Funded by the Appalachian Regional Commission, this eight-county educational planning board will consist of 41 members; 22 will be school superintendents or board members, 11 others will be appointed by local politicians, and another seven will be appointed by the KRADD's regular board. Apparently there is no need by parents, students, or even teachers.<br />
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A six-million dollar joint ARC-AFDC (Social Security) program for children, called the Kentucky Infant and Pre-School Program (KIPP), equally benefits those in power. Widely heralded as a "national child development experiment," the program has become bogged down in local politics and has yet -- even after three years -- to provide any actual services for children. Last year a reporter for the Louisville Courier Journal found that the program's "professionals" were being screened and hired at the local highway maintenance garage offices -- the patronage offices -- of several eastern Kentucky counties, including Breathitt. There was a minor scandal, but the politicians won -- as always. The Turners and dynasties like them all over the mountains will survive until the consciousness of mountain people has been raised and their broken spirit restored by allowing them the keys to the storehouse of information about their history and culture<br />
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Community People and the Demand for Appalachian Studies<br />
Critics of Appalachian Studies say that the idea comes from radicals more concerned about social reform than students' well-being. The following description of educational problems, and the response of the parents to these problems in Blackey, Kentucky, should help dispel this notion.<br />
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Blackey, Kentucky is a small town on the North Fork of the Kentucky River. Like most eastern Kentucky towns, which in many ways it is, since it was once a coal "boom" town. The turn of the century prosperity is no longer visible, however. The remnants of the underground mining industry are everywhere: abandoned tipples, slag heaps, railroad spurs, and decayed buildings. The overloaded coal trucks hauling strip mine coal now ply Route 7 - a narrow, twisting road between Whitesburg and Hazard -- as if it were their own highway, which in many ways it is since the Appalachian Regional Commission built its own dangerous and twisting three lane "developmental highway" between the "growth centers" of Hazard and Whitesburg, bypassing Blackey altogether. Despite the welfare economy of the area and the devastation wrought by the strip miners and their supporters in government, the people of Blackey are still a fighting people, a people still willing to wade against the torrents of bureaucratic naysaying to preserve what they feel is the last thing they own -- "their" school.<br />
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On Sunday morning, March 5, 1972, the Blackey Elementary School was totally destroyed by fire. By 2:00 p.m. on the same day, largely due to the efforts of Gaynelle Begley, the store clerk, more than 200 persons from the community gathered to decide what to do. As a temporary measure, the 130 students and their seven teachers were transferred to a nearby school. After meeting with representatives of the State Department of Education, the parents won a concession to renovate three structures in Blackey - a store, the former bank building, and the back rooms of the Presbyterian Church -- and in less than three weeks they had their children back in Blackey.<br />
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Sensing that the state bureaucrats were not willing to provide funds to rebuild their school in Blackey, the community appointed a committee of twenty-five to draft a proposal defending the need for a school in Blackey, rather than busing the children to one of two large consolidated schools in other areas of the county. That proposal, "A School in Search of a House," eloquently puts forth the parents' feeling about their school<br />
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"We don't believe that a school is a building full of children and teachers. Nor is it just a group of students and teachers. We believe that a school is a living part, the heart, of a community, and that the community is all the people, bound close together in body and spirit.<br />
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"We believe that we have now a real community in Blackey, that we have now a real school struggling without our community to help our children and the rest of the community grow. What we lack is a building.<br />
"We are a community and a school in search of a house."<br />
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As might be expected, their proposal was not well received in Frankfort. In the words of Gaynelle Begley, "They showed up and told us what we could and couldn't do. They acted as if it were the first time they had ever consulted with a community people. All that the planners were worried about was the number of square feet, exits, commodes, and money. I'm all for exits and such ... but we figure it takes as many commodes in a consolidated school as in one of our storefronts. We're concerned about money, but we're more concerned about children."<br />
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The community's record in caring for its children seems to back up Mrs. Begley's claim. The Blackey parents and teachers have sponsored their own Mountain Music Festivals for children, and brought in such diverse groups as an Appalachian Puppetry Caravan from Berea College and traveling plays sponsored by the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. Inside the schools themselves they have sponsored the only breakfast program in Letcher County, instituted students-teaching-students programs, and invited local adults in to lecture on the history of the area.<br />
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The latest from the State Department of Education was that the students would be bussed from Blackey, but the community has not given up the fight. In the words of one parent,<br />
<br />
"we lose our purpose when we lose our children. We think it is important for our children to have a sense of continuity of their lives as they flow from lives of their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. If our children are moved to a large consolidated school, we lose touch with them and they lose touch with the community. They will become citizens of nowhere."<br />
<br />
The Case For Appalachia Studies Courses in the Schools<br />
Whatever happened to Appalachia is a question one hears frequently.<br />
Ten years after the rediscovery of Appalachia by John Kennedy, the question looms important, although Appalachia itself has receded from the forefront of contemporary American issues. The region's problems remain; little has been solved. The land and the people are still the victims of a vicious economy; miseducation or no education plague the area's youth; malnutrition, black lung, parasitic infection still are commonplace. As always, justice is elusive. Appalachians still have no voice in the affairs of their region.<br />
Worse yet, they have no sense of their own identity. Not only has the land been robbed and raped, but also the birthright of Appalachians to a unique cultural heritage has been systematically and cruelly violated. All the intensive analysis by sociologists, the euphoric activity of college students turned organizers, the federal dollars -- whatever else they have done -- have had no positive impact on how Appalachians see themselves or their sense of group identity and purpose.<br />
<br />
The old forces of fragmentation and isolation, which have contributed their share to the dismal past, continue to rob Appalachians of a pride in and knowledge of their culture. In fact, the folkways, the arts -- the entire spectrum of Appalachian life has been held up to national scorn and ridicule by Mainstream America. In short, nothing much has changed except the profile of the region from high to low. Whatever happened to<br />
Appalachia is, in fact, still happening.<br />
<br />
The people of Appalachia eventually will solve their own problems; the solutions will not be quick or easy. Regional development will depend on the slow maturation of plans and programs. It is clear that one of the things which must be done is to recognize Appalachian culture as a valid alternative to the life style of middle America. There is a need not only for economic development in Appalachia, but also for strong and positive cultural identity. There is no reason why this cannot be. It is a cruel quirk of fate that this has not already happened at a time when other ethnic minorities have successfully created their contemporary identities out of the heritage of their past.<br />
<br />
Appalachian culture has survived many forms of culture shock, not the least of them being the hostility of the region's school system to things Appalachian. The schools represent the best place for beginning the reaffirmation of the value of Appalachian culture.<br />
<br />
This means that there must be a curriculum change to meet the needs of the people, not the needs of the national norms. This would mean that materials be written in the language terms that the Appalachian could understand. Thus, instead of changing the child's basic language habits, an effort should be made to add a second dialect to an already rich expression of culture and experience. It may be necessary to supplement or add standard English to the dialect of pupils whose speech could disadvantage them educationally or economically.<br />
<br />
By giving Appalachian students an awareness of the structure and origin of their own particular speech patterns, and at the same time giving them instruction in standard English, which might necessarily be taught much as one would teach a foreign language,<br />
<br />
They could deal with writings and other communications from outside the region but would not be forced to adopt speech patterns alien to them unless and until they so choose. This method of dealing with these children is superior to the present method (and usually unsuccessful one) of forcing these youngsters to adopt alien speech patterns and teaching them to be ashamed of their background and that of their parents.<br />
Sadly, Appalachians are also taught to apologize for their music.<br />
<br />
Just watch how apologetic (not defensive, apologetic) these mountain young get when for the first time (and the second, the thirty-first and the hundredth) they are outside the region and the "outsiders" (e.g., the New Jerseyites) start "making fun" of their mountain music. Had these young mountaineers been exposed to these ballads and "pickins" from an early age by sympathetic and appreciative teachers who told them of the beauty and background of their native music, then, when they were, years later, confronted with the basically hostile forces of the outside world, they could and would stand up for and/or at least be able to intelligently discuss the relatives merits of their culture's music, and certainly have a more healthy outlook.<br />
But, as it is, most of the mountain youth never really learn about their culture, and thus lurk silent and apologetic when it is attacked, or, as an alternative, and probably more often, laugh with their attackers. They give up their cultural identity so they won't be oppressed, instead of learning what being Appalachian means and throwing off the stereotypes.<br />
<br />
When cultures meet, there are always problems, ranging from bafflement to actual shock. The problems are not so severe, however, if individuals have a firm sense of who they are and a knowledge of cultural differences.<br />
<br />
It would greatly benefit thousands of young Appalachians if the schools of Appalachia had in the history and culture of Appalachia, courses that teach cultural differences. The ideal would be courses in Appalachian history and culture that compare Appalachian experience and values with Mainstream American experience and values.<br />
<br />
It is clear that in responding to the Appalachian culture, the middle class outsider is sometimes incapable of interpreting correctly the evidence before him. For example, Jack Weller -- while, of course, forever reminding his readers that he is passing no judgment on the culture -- describes mountain music and literature as "backward looking", "nostalgic and melancholy", and over all "regressive" (in Yesterday's People).<br />
Thomas Merton, on the other hand, after hearing some mountain music for the first time at Gethsemane (Kentucky), gave another interpretation when he exclaimed, "It's apocalyptic". Apparently the only fair hearing that the culture will receive is from persons who do not assign ultimate importance to the things that the state and the seminarians have blessed in modernity.<br />
<br />
The music of Hazel Dickens and Red Foley should be found in Appalachian classrooms, alongside that of Beethoven and Bach; and elementary and pre-school readers should depict Appalachia, not New England life styles, to give the children pictures to attach their words to. History should be personalized in every grade and discussion techniques should be built into the classroom structure to ensure that the pupils will experience what is put before them.<br />
<br />
In school, the middle-class youngster encounters an educational environment which reinforces his already learned value system and life style. For him, school is an extension of life as he lives it at home and in his community. On the contrary, the Appalachian student quickly learns that he is different and that he must erase those cultural traits which contribute to his diversity. His value system and life style are hardly reinforced.<br />
<br />
The educational system's process of credentialzing fails to recognize that the experiences of young people in the coal camps of Appalachia teach them to wrestle more successfully with real human problems and the demands of their lives than does the very sterile experience of middle-class youngsters and the artificial world of suburbs and affluence.<br />
<br />
Thus, the propensity of teachers and the educational system to "culturally enrich" our "culturally deprived" Appalachians is unsound. This approach has dealt not so much with why there are such disparities between the child and the school system, but with all means to eliminate the cultural differences of the child. Treating cultural differences as negative traits which must be schooled out of the child causes irreparable damage to his self-esteem and pride. What many fail to realize is that the actual deprivation is on the part of the educational system because it is not prepared to present these children with materials and environments and teachers conducive and complementary to the differences of their unique cultural identities and life styles.<br />
A sympathetic Appalachian studies curriculum would enable the public school students of the region to achieve greater insight into themselves and sharper awareness of the problems and opportunities in the region.<br />
<br />
College students also should have an opportunity to develop a keen sense of their own identity as well as a sensitivity to Appalachian problems.<br />
<br />
As it is, however, the Appalachian young person does not have to go to Cincinnati or Chicago to experience "culture shock" and conflict. Even our regional colleges somewhat understandably see their role as processing their native raw material into a product capable of functioning in Mainstream America. No institution of American society, in fact, is more divorced from Appalachia than the higher educational system which resides within it.<br />
<br />
If possible, the student is relieved of his ignorance, his biases, his accent, and -- as a result -- almost all of his old identity. He may graduate not being quite sure who he is. American education has been preoccupied with programs and standards that homogenize and assimilate persons. Individual differences have been tolerated only until they could be changed.<br />
<br />
The colleges continue and intensify a channeling process begun by the earliest elementary teacher to send the culturally different student -- ashamed of his background and ill-equipped to meet the needs of his region -- into middle-class society outside the region or out of productive society entirely.<br />
<br />
In fact, these institutions seem to do more of a disservice to the region than a service to the extent that they accept within their walls the "cream of the crop" -- the valedictorians and salutatorians -- and not only refuse to promote a regional consciousness on the part of this potential leadership -- but rather encourage them to get "educated" so they will be able to "get out" of the region.<br />
<br />
If he works and studies hard, the math student is told, he may be able to get a job with IBM In New York. If he works and studies hard, the business administration major is told, thing of the opportunities ... perhaps he can land a job with the Sheraton in Honolulu! If he works and studies hard, the medical student is told, think of the opportunities! Perhaps he can practice in one of the newest and most modern hospitals -- with corresponding equipment -- like in Dallas, or perhaps, an almost-as-well-equipped hospital in some wealthy suburb.<br />
<br />
In fact, there is a not at present a single Appalachian studies program in the region which could begin to rival the offerings of Far Eastern Studies or astronomy.<br />
<br />
<br />
A student can, and most do, go through four years of college in the region's institutions of higher education without having a think in the classroom related to the problems of the mountains surrounding them.<br />
English majors seldom if ever hear a word -- much less whole courses -- on Appalachian literature.<br />
Art majors in the region seldom if every study within these institutions about the beauty, value and history of development of Appalachian crafts.<br />
<br />
Economics majors sitting right in the middle of the strip mining country never hear a work about the economics of Appalachia and what strip mining and the outside corporations mean to the economics of the region and how economists might think of addressing the problems of the region.<br />
<br />
Sociology majors sit for four years in institutions in the heart of Appalachia and seldom hear a word about the different life patterns of the Appalachian people. Political science majors graduate without hearing a word about Appalachian politics and the effect or non-effect it has had on the plight of the people of the region around them.Education majors never get any instruction on the special problems of Appalachian youth and how to meet these problems with their teaching.Medical students are taught to treat medulla tissue on the brain, but know next to nothing about how to practice in rural areas.<br />
<br />
Nursing students graduate with experience in urban and local hospitals, but few have real training in public health with field work in the region. History majors learn about English history, Far Eastern history, "American" history, Russian history, Latin American history and, lately, sometimes "Black " history, but not a word about Appalachian history.<br />
<br />
Home economics majors are taught to cook fine French dinners with the correct wine and to prepare for receptions for New York society, but not a word about the dishes of the mountains or nutrition training for poor mothers. Presently, most colleges and universities are not in the business of granting academic credit to students working to solve immediate and indigenous community problems. But the world of needs beyond the classroom is a learning environment that is grossly underutilized. The most sensible approach to education would be to help students examine their own experiences as creatively and critically as possible. Formal education too often provides little opportunity to learn how to learn or how to solve problems that are not hypothetical. Little attention is devoted to analyzing life styles, to understanding processes, to examining how institutions influence behavior. Most current emphasis is still on factual information, content delivery and the preparation of specific skills. But research now tells us that within five years that kind of education is either forgotten or outdated. Appalachian schools of high education spend little time b2thinking about the community below their own mountainside.<br />
<br />
Too often, the university-community dialogue never becomes dialogue, since the university provides its services from its storehouses of wisdom and rarely does the university recognize the educational uses of the world beyond the classroom.<br />
<br />
A college Appalachian studies program should utilize the community as a learning laboratory, allowing the student to be autonomous, and identify resources for learning about Appalachia.<br />
Community awareness and involvement are not inborn -- people must acquire them. Appalachian youth are no different in this respect. Regional studies must provide a stimulus that will promote learning -- a learning of oneself, of one's people, one's region and one's<br />
<br />
Inasmuch as the region needs more than 200,000 college graduates -- a minimum of 6,400 physicians, many more thousands of nurses, teachers, businessmen, government leaders, ad infinitum, the region's schools must develop a sensitivity in their youth to the problems of the region.<br />
<br />
The Appalachian studies programs would strive to familiarize the students with the economic and social history of the region, its politics, its religion, its education, and its current social institutions. It would also provide insights into the "psychology" of the mountain people and the development work being done, while endeavoring to sensitize the participants to the qualities of mountain life which deserve preservation.<br />
Students should be given the flexibility to develop their own courses in Appalachian studies. The major objective of most of these courses would be to do original research on Appalachia which can be printed for distribution and/or placed in he libraries for future reference. One of the problems in studying Appalachia is the lack of written materials. These classes could be utilized to provide speakers who represent the Appalachian institutions or who are experts in these fields for these classes and/or the entire student body. Following each speaker, there could be class discussions to synthesize the material presented in relations to the students' past experiences.<br />
<br />
As a beginning, these institutions could offer courses such as "Social Welfare Policy and Service in Appalachia," "Values and Cultural Themes in Appalachia," The Social Problems of Unemployment in Appalachia," Appalachian Politics," Education in Appalachia," Economics in Appalachia," "Appalachian Literature," ad infinitum, which would provoke thought about who speaks for Appalachia, the uniqueness of the culture and people, and an analysis of the ways that regional institutions have and have not responded to the problems of Appalachia.<br />
<br />
If we accept the premise that Appalachian problems are not, in general, the result of terrain inadequacies incidental to American development, or to any special lack of ability or maturity in its people, then we logically hold that the opposite is the case, that much of Appalachia has been subjected to an economic and political neglect which largely made the mountain area a colony for the use and pleasure of the larger part of the country and for corporations. Therefore, it makes sense to set up Appalachian studies programs which will benefit both the student, who will get a much more relevant and meaningful education than that to which he is now subjected, and the region as a whole, which will benefit from the students' research as to present Appalachian poverty, the reasons for Appalachia's low rank as contrasted to the rest of America, and the social and political factors behind these problems. As minerals are, in most of Appalachia, the largest natural resource, it also makes sense specifically for these students to research this source of power and wealth.<br />
Pride and knowledge of a region, however, is not enough. The region's educational system must contribute to finding ways for their young people to remain in Appalachia<br />
<br />
Inasmuch as the region needs more than 200,000 college graduates -- a minimum of 6,400 physicians, many more thousands of nurses, teachers, businessmen, government leaders, ad infinitum, the region's schools must develop a sensitivity in their youth to the problems of the region.<br />
<br />
The Appalachian studies programs would strive to familiarize the students with the economic and social history of the region, its politics, its religion, its education, and its current social institutions. It would also provide insights into the "psychology" of the mountain people and the development work being done, while endeavoring to sensitize the participants to the qualities of mountain life which deserve preservation.<br />
Students should be given the flexibility to develop their own courses in Appalachian studies. The major objective of most of these courses would be to do original research on Appalachia which can be printed for distribution and/or placed in he libraries for future reference. One of the problems in studying Appalachia is the lack of written materials. These classes could be utilized to provide speakers who represent the Appalachian institutions or who are experts in these fields for these classes and/or the entire student body. Following each speaker, there could be class discussions to synthesize the material presented in relations to the students' past experiences.<br />
<br />
As a beginning, these institutions could offer courses such as "Social Welfare Policy and Service in Appalachia", "Values and Cultural Themes in Appalachia", The Social Problems of Unemployment in Appalachia", Appalachian Politics", Education in Appalachia", Economics in Appalachia", "Appalachian Literature", ad infinitum, which would provoke thought about who speaks for Appalachia, the uniqueness of the culture and people, and an analysis of the ways that regional institutions have and have not responded to the problems of Appalachia.<br />
<br />
If we accept the promise that Appalachian problems are not, in general, the result of terrain inadequacies incidental to American development, or to any special lack of ability or maturity in its people, then we logically hold that the opposite is the case, that much of Appalachia has been subjected to an economic and political neglect which largely made the mountain area a colony for the use and pleasure of the larger part of the country and for corporations. Therefore, it makes sense to set up Appalachian studies programs which will benefit both the student, who will get a much more relevant and meaningful education than that to which he is now subjected, and the region as a whole, which will benefit from the students' research as to present Appalachian poverty, the reasons for Appalachia's low rank as contrasted to the rest of America, and the social and political factors behind these problems. As minerals are, in most of Appalachia, the largest natural resource, it also makes sense specifically for these students to research this source of power and wealth.<br />
Pride and knowledge of a region, however, is not enough. The region's educational system must contribute to finding ways for their young people to remain in Appalachia.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-89991226114925234932010-06-29T09:09:00.000-04:002010-06-29T09:41:43.486-04:00Byrd Watching<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGc2PziLOA4z9hLYEBITSHzHDjd8pqLYGXGju9LO4qeQigifcwDsK6wxHuLvH1xJlqRYmUoeR84ZaTen0P_mRlQYLFXeqjAPp2YyUChdpG705R7eIba94oecp1xH3lEKCs9qFgZqNd4Y8/s1600/A+statue+of+Robert+Byrd+stands+in+the+rotunda+of+the+West+Virginia+state+capitol.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488188219457018114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGc2PziLOA4z9hLYEBITSHzHDjd8pqLYGXGju9LO4qeQigifcwDsK6wxHuLvH1xJlqRYmUoeR84ZaTen0P_mRlQYLFXeqjAPp2YyUChdpG705R7eIba94oecp1xH3lEKCs9qFgZqNd4Y8/s320/A+statue+of+Robert+Byrd+stands+in+the+rotunda+of+the+West+Virginia+state+capitol.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCInzthsLbEzunMNLeI1Ad3kiF3AhB3QgdQ1vttKMsXHFvj8PgRtUDgsJZmFV6MN8q4-7Wo7NNjjslGcJPZuL-yfwCSeqVfINTckRHka5-9TaRzucZNd2u2JvDCXMZLiyUsddvi-u6PIg/s1600/Byrd+with+Joe+Biden+at+a+rally+in+Charleston,+West+Virginia,+during+the+2008+presidential+campaign.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488188048869247522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 247px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCInzthsLbEzunMNLeI1Ad3kiF3AhB3QgdQ1vttKMsXHFvj8PgRtUDgsJZmFV6MN8q4-7Wo7NNjjslGcJPZuL-yfwCSeqVfINTckRHka5-9TaRzucZNd2u2JvDCXMZLiyUsddvi-u6PIg/s320/Byrd+with+Joe+Biden+at+a+rally+in+Charleston,+West+Virginia,+during+the+2008+presidential+campaign.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7oFTIE9J9-BlfBHB_Zu-qSQcE4w6MyPP7jI5Xk-UX9n80fGxhhLrFhvHUgKzeDtZOKH0vRqfwAtXxoQebbqkXSNQC35n5FMDIxOaY-UFXMPpIsEp9LMLbN6LoUh3VDXSNhM8e-J-Fy3I/s1600/Byrd's+first+job+was+at+this+gas+station+in+Helen,+West+Virginia.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488187597604781362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 186px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7oFTIE9J9-BlfBHB_Zu-qSQcE4w6MyPP7jI5Xk-UX9n80fGxhhLrFhvHUgKzeDtZOKH0vRqfwAtXxoQebbqkXSNQC35n5FMDIxOaY-UFXMPpIsEp9LMLbN6LoUh3VDXSNhM8e-J-Fy3I/s320/Byrd's+first+job+was+at+this+gas+station+in+Helen,+West+Virginia.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRxodh1Y_4FH5BoKrCdvUSx6Z4w6OrW-i7pxBrgqztsjIw0povor6_ZW1oQrfiuQhif77Tlc8n4UZ8okdmJX1wjVl5F_bMn-i2hpHfs22N2Lx5O0TzFlhwoZSjFwvApPbQUtHofdv_Ng/s1600/Byrd+in+wheelchair.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488187387251044434" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRxodh1Y_4FH5BoKrCdvUSx6Z4w6OrW-i7pxBrgqztsjIw0povor6_ZW1oQrfiuQhif77Tlc8n4UZ8okdmJX1wjVl5F_bMn-i2hpHfs22N2Lx5O0TzFlhwoZSjFwvApPbQUtHofdv_Ng/s320/Byrd+in+wheelchair.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxly9_oMbcLTLhDUB0lerwl2Ta88aNqsVYMOe96uVKHsyZvasEVgXQBg9xXFVkd6W0Qcc9CuWMe4I-o286rL2ck9v0hdfdy5CTY5R4s1A3h31svt0EbKD_uwTnDczQf1khSsZxu3WWuoI/s1600/Byrd.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488186516902136642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 204px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxly9_oMbcLTLhDUB0lerwl2Ta88aNqsVYMOe96uVKHsyZvasEVgXQBg9xXFVkd6W0Qcc9CuWMe4I-o286rL2ck9v0hdfdy5CTY5R4s1A3h31svt0EbKD_uwTnDczQf1khSsZxu3WWuoI/s320/Byrd.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>By: Betty Dotson-Lewis (B. L. Dotson-Lewis)</div><div>Written for the <a href="http://www.dailyyonder.com/">http://www.dailyyonder.com/</a><br />1/25/2010</div><div></div><div>Robert Byrd is the longest-serving U.S. Senator. He grew up in — and lived through — times most of us can't imagine. And he's not leaving us without a fight.<br /><br />Robert Byrd of West Virginia has lived long enough to filibuster the 1964 civil rights act and to support the first African-American to become President of the United States.<br /><br />Even the New York Times spends time Byrd watching.<br /><br />“Byrd watching” in Washington, D.C., these days consists of recording and responding to every move the 92-year-old Democrat Senator from West Virginia makes. Whenever there’s a close vote in Congress — such as the Senate decision on the health care bill in late December — Democrats and Republicans alike hold their breath and watch for Sen. Robert C. Byrd. The New York Times in a story on December 23, 2009 described the arrival and attendance of Byrd to the Senate floor to vote as a “poignant ritual.”<br /><br />The Times goes on to say, “It is his third appearance of the week, each prompted by a vital vote.”<br /><br />From all appearances Bob Byrd takes his job seriously despite his age and reportedly frail health. On June 12, 2006, Byrd became the longest-serving United States Senator in the history of the United States. On November 18, 2009, Senator Byrd became the longest serving Member of Congress in our history.<br /><br />The Times implies a pretty dismal future for those of us who are looking forward to living rewarding lives at age of 92 or beyond. Apparently, the journalist has shorter-term expectations. One of my grandmothers lived to 98 years old and the other past 94.<br /><br />They both grew up during hard times in the Appalachian coalfields not far from where Robert Byrd lived as a young man. Their diets were completely wrong, according to Dr. Oz, Robert Byrd lived as a young man. Their diets were completely wrong, according to Dr. Oz, and both had little medical attention. I believe my grandmothers grew tired of the routine life here and being treated as elderly because they simply closed their eyes and moved on to the hereafter. There was nothing wrong with their mental capacity when they died and neither suffered physically. Sen. Byrd’s own party members appear as surprised as the Republican opposition when the senior senator is on the job. The papers report that Sen. Byrd is greeted by a procession of colleagues: Harry Reid, patting his arm, Barbara Boxer, Democrat from California, applauding his entry. In late December, Byrd was entertained with standing ovations, waves, hugs and even tears for doing the job West Virginians have elected him to do for nine consecutive terms.<br /><br />Byrd has built an impressive vita, including the election by his colleagues to more leadership positions than any other senator in history. Perhaps this achievement Perhaps this achievement is because of this unyielding desire and determination to do his duty. Byrd once said, “What is sometimes considered to be the result of genius is more the result of persistence, perseverance and hard work."<br /><br />He is now the President pro tempore, the second highest-ranking official in the United States Senate and the highest-ranking senator in the majority party.<br /><br />Byrd’s own story, the classic American saga of struggle and achievement in the Appalachian coalfields, may help explain his physical and mental toughness.<br /><br />Robert C. Byrd was born on November 20, 1917, in North Wilkesboro, North Carolina, to Cornelius and Ada Sale. They had four other children – three sons and a daughter. Byrd started his life with the name of Cornelius Calvin Sale, Jr. Before his mother, Ada Sale, died of influenza on November 11, 1918, she asked her husband to give their sons to other family members to raise. Baby Cornelius (Robert Byrd) was given to his mother’s sister and brother-in-law, Vlurma and Titus Byrd. The Byrds adopted Cornelius and changed his name to Robert Carlyle Byrd.<br /><br />In 1920, when Robert was about two years old, the Byrds moved to Bluefield in the coalfields of southern West Virginia, where his adoptive father got a job driving a wagon and team for a local brewery. Titus moved from job to job trying to make a better life for his family. He worked more than one job at a time – a coalminer and a farmer. The family moved from town to town but eventually settled down in Mercer County, in the southern West Virginia town of Algonquin (later called Lamar). Robert Byrd's first job was at gas station in Helen, West Virginia<br /><br />Robert attended a two-room school, finishing four grades in two years. Studying by an oil lamp, he developed a thirst for knowledge at a very young age. When he was in the eighth grade he walked three miles to catch a bus and ride four more miles to school in Spanishburg. Robert graduated as valedictorian of his class of '28 at Mark Twain High School in Stotesbury in 1934.<br /><br />In the middle of the Great Depression, following graduation from high school, Robert wanted to go on to college but there was no money. Eight months after graduation he finally found a job pumping gas in Helen four miles from his home. He started work in the middle of January, without a car and or a coat to wear. He borrowed a coat and walked or hitched a ride to work – many days walking eight miles to and from the gas station.<br /><br />Awhile after, he was offered a job as produce boy for the Koppers Coal Company in his hometown of Stotesbury. Koppers owned the coal operations in Helen and Stotesbury. This job would mean he no longer had far to walk to work.<br /><br />In 1937, Robert married his high school sweetheart, Erma Ora James, a coal miner’s daughter. When they married he was making $75 a month. The couple lived in two upstairs rooms in a coal camp house where Mona, their first daughter, was born.<br /><br />Robert was constantly looking for ways to make a better life for his family. He picked up meat cutting skills by watching the meat cutters at the Koppers Coal Company store. He read everything he could get his hands on about the process. After acquiring the skill of meat cutting, he worked in supermarkets in Fayette and Raleigh counties and at night he took classes in welding at Beckley College.<br /><br />When WWII broke out, Byrd worked as a welder building warships in the shipyards of Baltimore and Tampa. In 1945, when the war was over, Robert Byrd brought his wife and two daughters back to Crab Orchard, West Virginia, to settle down. He returned to West Virginia with a new vision of what his home state and country could be.<br /><br />It was during this time period in the ‘40s when a young, ambitious Byrd became affiliated with one of the most noted hate groups this nation has every witnessed – the Ku Klux Klan. Byrd, in his memoir, recalls recruiting approximately 150 friends and associates to form a chapter in Crab Orchard. It cost $10 to join and the local KKK collected $3. for the robe and hood.<br /><br />Byrd acknowledges he lacked good judgment. He has said he viewed the Klan more as a fraternal group and as a way for a person with little financial means or power to launch a political career by connecting with doctors, lawyers, clergy and judges who had the money and power he lacked.<br /><br />"It has emerged throughout my life to haunt and embarrass me and has taught me in a very graphic way what one major mistake can do to one's life, career, and reputation," Byrd wrote when he was 87 years old. Byrd has seen and done a lot. He joined the filibuster of the 1964 civil rights act, and he campaigned for the first African American to be elected president.<br /><br />In 1946, he made his first run for political office and was elected to the West Virginia House of Delegates. In 1950 he finally began to pursue a college education by enrolling in classes at Morris Harvey College. He was not able to attend college full time but took classes around his work schedule and duties as an elected official.<br /><br />Byrd earned his law degree cum laude, from American University in Washington, D.C. in 1963 after ten years of study in night classes.<br /><br />In the halls of Congress, Robert C. Byrd is renowned for his knowledge and defense of the United States Constitution and the institution of the Senate. Byrd “may come closer to the kind of senator the Founding Fathers had in mind than any other,” according to the Almanac of American Politics.<br /><br />Those words may apply in more ways than the Almanac intended.<br /><br />On September 17, 1787 the United States Constitution was signed and agreed upon – the oldest and shortest written constitution of any major government in the world.<br /><br />Benjamin Franklin was 81 years old when he signed the United States Constitution. He was suffering and because of his poor health, needed help to sign the Constitution. As he signed the document, tears streamed down his face. Benjamin Franklin, the oldest framer to sign the Constitution, was in fragile health. Although his body was deteriorating, his mind remained active. He was in constant pain from gout and gallstones. He could barely walk. Franklin would enter the convention hall in a sedan chair carried by four prisoners from the Walnut Street jail in Philadelphia.<br /><br />Senator Tom Coburn, Republican of Oklahoma, declared in a speech on the Senate floor before the health care reform vote, “What the American people ought to pray is that somebody can’t make the vote.” Many assumed he was talking about Robert C. Byrd.<br /><br />Coburn’s plea may not be getting the full attention of the Man Upstairs; it will take more than a prayer from an opposing senator to move a mountain like Robert C. Byrd. </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3332661799061811937.post-61818215117964471462010-06-17T10:15:00.000-04:002010-06-17T10:16:31.245-04:00Appalachian Mountain ProjectMy writing began to materialize as a project to give ordinary, common, blue-collar workers and their families a voice. People reared in coal camps. People who have their arms, hands and legs cut off by large mining machinery. People who have lived their entire life in a four-room house. People who did not draw ordinary money at the end of the pay period but who were given scrip to spend at the Company Store. People, who often lived no better than slaves, and were told they were lucky to have all they had. I wanted to give these people an opportunity to talk to someone, to tell their stories, to have their stories recorded as a remembrance.<br /> With all this on my shoulders, I feel I have been forced to write by an unconscious mandate. Someone must hold these precious memories up for the world to read.<br /> The people of the Appalachian coalfields are much like the survivors of any major disasters (God or manmade). And like the victims of those disasters – my people too have been forgotten. Their own strength, courage and caring for each other have made them into pillars of strength many times without benefit of a loving or responding government. Many of the mountain people have died because of mine explosions, accidents and black lung.<br /><br />B. L. Dotson-Lewis<br />Summersville, WVUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0