A West Coast friend who just read my blog asked: So...what exactly is Appalachia?
You know the old adage about "assuming," right?
Obviously, this is a question that I should have answered in my first I Heart Appalachia blog. To help with the explanation, I surfed to the Web site for an important commission that was formed in 1963 to advise President John F. Kennedy and was established as a federal agency by Congress in 1965.
The Appalachian Regional Commission, a federal-state partnership that works for sustainable community and economic development in Appalachia, provides this definition:
Appalachia, as defined in the legislation from which the Appalachian Regional Commission derives its authority, is a 205,000-square-mile region that follows the spine of the Appalachian Mountains from southern New York to northern Mississippi. It includes all of West Virginia and parts of 12 other states: Alabama, Georgia, Kentucky, Maryland, Mississippi, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee and Virginia.
About 24.8 million people live in the 420 counties of the Appalachian Region; 42 percent of the region's population is rural, compared with 20 percent of the national population. The region's economic fortunes were based in the past mostly on extraction of natural resources and manufacturing. The modern economy of the region is gradually diversifying, with a heavier emphasis on services and widespread development of tourism, especially in more remote areas where there is no other viable industry. Coal remains an important resource, but it is not a major provider of jobs. Manufacturing is still an economic mainstay but is no longer concentrated in a few major industries.
In 1965, one in three Appalachians lived in poverty. By 1990, the poverty rate had been cut in half. These gains have transformed the region from one of almost uniform poverty to one of contrasts: some communities have successfully diversified their economies; some are still adjusting to structural changes in declining sectors; and some severely distressed areas still require basic infrastructure, such as water and sewer systems.
Below is the ARC's map of Appalachia, and here is a link to all of the states and counties that are included. While reading through the list, I just learned that I still live in Appalachia, even though I live in a metro Atlanta county. (This knowledge gives me the warm fuzzies.)
The ARC has done a great deal for Appalachia and the people who live there during its 45-year history. And the good that it has done continues....
Growing up in the Appalachia of the 1960s and 1970s, I experienced a culture that was a unique blend of traditions and values passed down through "old" families like mine which settled land there prior to 1820, mixed in with modern attitudes and ideas piped in like proverbial sunshine via television and radio.
Today, Appalachia is more connected to the rest of the country and world than ever before thanks to better roads, regional airports, cable networks, the Internet, social networks and more. These things are in many ways, the great cultural "levelers" of our time. (Some would call them the cultural "killers.) Today's Appalachian youth pretty much speak and dress like the youth in all corners of the U.S. They listen to the same music; they have the same icons. I know this, yet it's still weird for me to hear rap blaring from a pickup truck driven by a young white kid as it passes me on the highway near where I grew up.
But some things haven't changed all that much. Unemployment remains high. Few new jobs are being created. There is still widespread poverty. Kids (and parents) are still hungry. Many don't have adequate healthcare. And Santa Claus won't visit every home this coming Friday.
Of course, thousands in Appalachia have already gotten a glimpse or an up-close look at the jolly old man in red.
For 67 years Santa has made an annual appearance in Appalachia--tossing small presents like candy, stuffed animals, pencils, notebooks, toys, mittens, gloves, hats and scarves off the caboose of the Santa Train.
When I was a kid, just a few weeks before Christmas mom would take me and my brother to see Santa on the Santa Train. We'd join our school friends and cousins on the tracks near Speers Ferry, just past where the CXS railroad (back then the C&O) crossed U.S. Route 23 on its way to Tennessee.
Our little hearts would beat faster and louder in anticipation when we'd hear the first whistle of the approaching Santa Train. A railway employee was usually on hand to keep us from crowding or leaping too close to the tracks. We'd form a line along the tracks, usually never more than one kid deep. The parents would hang way back, giving us plenty of maneuvering room for plucking that cool gift out of the air or off the ground.
(Pay attention to the part about our parents hanging way back--and not participating other than to hold any loot that we handed to them before dashing back to the front line for more.)
There must have been celebrities on those trains--Santa always had a helper--but I couldn't tell you who any of them were. (My mom, probably could; maybe I'll ask her.) The important part is that Santa and his helpers would toss out handful after handful of candy, toys and other stuff that most of us didn't really need or want--like pencils or mittens (ugh!)--and we'd go after it. For me, it was mostly the thrill of the chase and the glow of success when I actually got something good.
I don't remember exactly how old I was when I saw the Santa Train for the last time as a kid, but I was probably a non-participating teenager, watching my little brother go for a toy. I do know that I wouldn't see the Santa Train again for over 20 years.
In the mid to late 1990s, Mom and I look my brother's two kids to the Santa Train. We couldn't believe the size, pushiness and greediness of the crowd--especially the parents.
We knew many of the people there. What should have been a fun outing for two kids turned into a semi-frightening experience when we temporarily lost sight of the kids in a surging crowd. The entire train full of gifts wouldn't have been enough to satisfy those gathered on that little spit of flat land.
I've never been so disappointed and dishearterned.
Based on these photos and this video, which features this year's special guest/elf, country singer Wynonna Judd, nothing has changed. If anything, the crowd might be even larger.
It seems like an annual tradition and altruistic event that I loved as a child has become an annual destination for hoards greedy people who may not even need the items tossed overboard at each stop as the train runs from Elkhorn City, KY, through southwest Virginia to Kingsport, TN.
I am certain that some of those gathered at Santa Train stops along the train's route could have used and would appreciated the toys and other items tossed from the train, but there's no guarantee that they were lucky enough to get any.
I am equally certain that some of this year's Santa Train attendees had a great time--whether they caught any gifts or not.
By some accounts, however, this year's Santa Train experience didn't exactly inspire the Christmas spirit. Within days after the Santa Train came through on Nov. 21, negative comments started to flow into the "mailbag" for the Kingsport Times News. Here is a sampling:
"The grownups were getting most of the toys and the little ones nothing. They need to find another way to give the kids toys. Only one-third of the kids got toys, and the adults were leaving with trash bags full. I think they need to hand each kid a toy and not sling it out through the crowd." Read the entire comment and the discussion that follows.
"Watching parents and teenagers rip toys out of little children’s hands was sad. ...Having to watch greedy people steal from children is not my idea of Christmas cheer." Read this comment and the discussion that follows.
"It took me two years to convince my daughter to bring my grandchildren out to take part in the Santa Train activities. Now, three years later, I regret she listened to me. My youngest grandchildren come home in tears each year. Instead of the spirit of giving and kindness, they have learned greed and selfishness. They have had teens push in front of them to catch everything that was tossed in their direction. They have had adults actually take things away from them." Read this comment in its entirety.
Let's all think about the lessons we can take away from this year's Santa Train. And let's keep our fingers crossed that the organizers can come up with a better way to distribute tons of toys and other items to the people who should be getting them--the kids...all of the kids. (Of course, I'm assuming the train can carry enough giveaways for every kid along the way.)
If you just can't get enough of the Santa Train because it's new to you or an interesting social experiment in the heart of Appalachia, here's a video log of the trip by one of Santa's helpers:
Four or five years ago while perusing the new books at Borders, I picked up a non-fiction book titled "Will You Miss Me When I'm Gone?" A biography of the Carter Family written by Mark Zwonitzer and Charles Hirshberg, the book chronicles the lives and music of A.P. Carter, his wife Sara Dougherty Carter, and Maybelle Addington Carter, who was A.P.'s sister-in-law, Sara's first cousin and the mother of June Carter Cash.
I simply had to buy and read it. For one thing, the legendary trio were from Scott County, VA, which is also my home county. For another, A.P. and Sara's son, Joe, was one of my dad's best friends. At various times, Dad and Joe worked together, Joe as a construction supervisor and dad as the master carpenter that he was. Joe would stop by our house if he was in our end of the county, and we'd stop by and visit his family on the odd lazy Sunday afternoon.
Because of Joe, I met June Carter Cash and her hubby Johnny before I was old enough to realize they were country royalty. I touched and even bravely strummed one of Johnny's famous black guitars at Joe's house. And I simply had to take piano lessons--because if Joe's big ham-sized hands could make a piano "sing" surely mine could, too. (Joe, in the hat and striped shirt, is pictured here with Marty Stuart, Carlene Carter and John Carter Cash during a benefit for The Carter Family Fold.)
"Will You Miss Me When I'm Gone?" turned out to be a great read. And it made me really happy to have been born in the latter half of the 20th century when most of the major roads in my mountainous county had already been paved. Today, you can make the trip from Scott County to Bristol, TN, where the Carter Family made their first recordings in 1927, in less than an hour if you drive with a lead foot like me. It took the Carter's all day. They lived in another time and another world, and the biography does an excellent job of telling their story.
A.P. Carter died in 1960, Maybelle in 1978 and Sara in 1979 at the age of 81. Mom and Dad attended Sara's Scott County funeral in support of Joe. Mom says I didn't go because I was in school. I don't really remember that, but most 17 year-olds live in their own heads and prefer not to think about death. It's possible I didn't even want to go.
After I read the book, I kept meaning to take it "home" to Scott County on one of my weekend visits and get Joe to autograph it. (He would have gotten such a big kick out of that request.) But I didn't. Dad was sick by then and I was focused on spending time with him. Joe visited Dad now and then, but not when I was home. I kept telling my husband that we'd go to The Carter Family Fold one Saturday night, and I'd introduce him to Joe and maybe his sister, Janette, but it didn't happen. And then Joe was gone. I learned about it from my mom during a typical phone call.
Upon Joe's death, Janette became the last living child of A.P. and Sara. With help from her children, Dale Jett and Rita Jett Forrester, she continued to run The Carter Family Fold and the Carter Family Museum until her death in 2006...on my birthday. (That date has stuck with me like one of those weird trivia answers that you never forget.) Today, Rita is the driving force of the Carter Family Fold--with a little annual fundraising help from family and friends like those pictured above.
If you love country music or history, I urge you to pick up a copy of "Will You Miss Me When I'm Gone." And if you're really into Appalachian or bluegrass music, you'll also have to plan a trip to The Carter Fold while it's still going strong. I'm talking live acoustic-only bluegrass with flatfooting and clogging and two-stepping every Saturday night. For a sample of the action, check out the streaming videos here.
Better still, spread your tourism dollars around the area by following The Crooked Road, Virginia's heritage music trail.
Just two counties north of The Carter Family Fold is another bright stop on The Crooked Road, the Ralph Stanley Museum and Traditional Mountain Music Center. If you know anything about bluegrass, you'll know who Ralph Stanley is. Doesn't ring a bell? You're wrong. Think "Man of Constant Sorrow" and "O, Death" from the movie "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and you'll hear that haunting voice in your head.
And that brings me to the end of this blog. I'll leave you with the haunting lyrics of "Will the Circle Be Unbroken?":
Will The Circle Be Unbroken? By A.P. Carter
I was standing by my window On a cold and cloudy day, When I saw the hearse come rollin' For to take my love away.
Chorus Will the circle be unbroken? By and by Lord, by and by, There's a better home a-waitin' In the sky Lord, in the sky.
I told the undertaker, "Undertaker, please drive slow, For this body you are haulin' Lord, I hate to see him go."
Well, I followed close behind him, Tried to hold up and be brave, But I could not hide my sorrow When they laid him in the grave.
I was born in the heart of Appalachia, the first child of a hard-working, blue collar family whose ancestors first homesteaded land in those ancient mountains in the late 1700s.
No matter where life has taken me, I steadfastly "heart" Appalachia, it's people, music and culture. And though I have been happy everywhere I've lived outside of Appalachia, a part of me will always yearn for the mountains of home and the amazing view that might be just around the next bend of a winding mountain road.
This blog will often be about my memories of growing up in Appalachia, as well as the Appalachia of today and tomorrow. However, it will also be my little self-indulgence, so I plan to write about anything that I find to be "share-worthy." In the meantime, here are some photos my family's Appalachian farm:
