We’re nearing the end of the year and the holiday/ winter season is just around the corner. The chilled air carries a magical, fresh scent; holiday bells jingle our benevolent ears; families and friends gather for grand meals or just plain old togetherness. This season affords us the chance to hear our family stories, our histories, our proud moments, and some we might like to sweep under the rug.Continue Reading
Oak Ridge. These words always had an enigmatic, almost magical sound to my ears. I couldn’t imagine what my father found so fascinating about this place. More fascinating than nature walks in the woods. More fascinating than teaching biology at the university. So fascinating that he would give up theContinue Reading
What possible connection could world-renowned, Russian-born pianist, composer, and performer Sergei Rachmaninoff have with Appalachia? Well, a concert, of course. But not just any concert—his last concert. Earlier this year, the UT Symphony Orchestra commemorated the 80th anniversary of that performance with a concert. Rachmaninoff was a fascinating individual andContinue Reading
We’re coming upon a holiday where we as a people gather together and reflect on gratitude. We may contemplate the hundreds of Thanksgivings our people had before us. Or, perhaps, we ruminate over the gatherings in the most recent decade. A particular dish. A special person. A family tradition. WeContinue Reading
Grandmother’s button box was always kept on her sewing machine desk. It was more of a small canister, really, made of tin, with a terra cotta-colored plastic lid. The box was decorated with images of people from the Victorian era shopping for fabrics and notions. I do not remember aContinue Reading
No one comes to the front door of the old clapboard house, unless of course they are peddling something, or lost. The gravel drive shoots up a short, steep hill and curves around to the back of the house like a strong arm pulls you in for a hug. LeftoverContinue Reading
This story is about an experience I had with my dad on a sunny afternoon in the mountain holler where we lived. I was about nine or ten years old at the time, and my dad would have been about thirty. The details of that afternoon are not entirely clear,Continue Reading
Oh, fruit loved of boyhood! the old days recalling, When wood-grapes were purpling and brown nuts were falling! When wild, ugly faces we carved in its skin, Glaring out through the dark with a candle within! (25-28) —from “The Pumpkin” by John Greenleaf Whittier, 1844 People living inContinue Reading
Appalachia has a unique history and her recorded past spans hundreds of years. Everyone has a tale—tall or small, tainted or sainted—because these mountains are full to the brim with stories. Our grandparents (and great grandparents, if one is fortunate) have told us about so many things. Sometimes their wordsContinue Reading
Thank you for joining us as we continue celebrating Appalachian poet and novelist, George Scarbrough’s birthday with part 2 of Edward Francisco‘s “Christ-Hauntedness in George Scarbrough’s Invitation to Kim.” Christ-Hauntedness in Scarbrough’s Invitation to Kim . . . As before, the reader senses that Scarbrough’s “love of profligate /Continue Reading
