Fall and winter are my favorite seasons. The air is crisp and fresh, and the chilly weather is perfect for wrapping up in a warm blanket with a cup of hot tea and a book. Holidays set traditions that are so beautiful, yet we often don’t understand how meaningful these times are until they’re gone. Memories of my own family gatherings are so pronounced in my mind. I treasure them—even the not-so-loving ones. And some are as heartbreaking and painful as they are warm and sweet. Loved ones are separated by distance. Some are ostracized. Others are gone from this sphere and the spaces they inhabited remain empty forever. But, like all of us, I have special memories. If you would indulge me, I’d like to share one of these memories with our readers.
When I was a very young child, my family celebrated several Christmases at the house of my great-grandparents, Lawrence and Zora (Daugherty) Goodman. My great-grandparents decorated their yard with beautiful lights, and an illuminated Nativity scene took center stage.
My great-grandfather was a hoot. Inevitably at one point, he would gather all his great-grandchildren together to entertain us. His favorite thing to do was . . . stand on his head. Truly. No joke. He performed this little stunt in his old age, even after a hard, back-breaking life of coal mining. We were mesmerized by his antics and his stories. So were the adults.
They had a large family, so a gift for every person was a financial strain. But every year, my great-grandparents gifted each family a box of chocolate covered cherries. These weren’t the awful ones we see today—about as big as a knuckle with ¼ of a cherry slathered in gooey, liquid sugar and a thin hull of chocolate. These boxes were full of whole cherries encompassed by thick sugar confection inside a heavy chocolate shell. Heavenly.
One of my favorite Christmas memories at the Goodman gathering was when my great-grandparents gave me the only physical gift I ever received from them: a beautiful baby doll. I think I was between six and eight years old. Even back then, I understood how special it was to receive such a prize. My doll had a white dress with pink, lacy edging. And when you turned her on her stomach, she cried. On this particular Christmas, after our bellies were full and our hearts were light, I held that doll so tight and proud. As we left, my mother asked me what I wanted to name the doll. The memory is as crisp as the night it happened. I looked at my mom, looked at the doll, then gazed back at Grandma and Grandpa Goodman’s front porch. My eyes then fixed on the beautiful Nativity scene. It was such a special moment for me, as those bright Christmas lights twinkled in my green eyes. I saw Jesus’ mother there with her baby, and I smiled as I answered, “Mary.”
But we all have Christmas and Holiday memories. This year, let us bring our Appalachian histories to the forefront and tell them to our families. Let us come together and tell new stories, too. My sincere hope is that we as a mountain society will record these and other stories in our lives. Appalachia Bare remains a welcoming venue for those stories to be chronicled.
During this season, Appalachia Bare takes a winter hiatus. We will concentrate on our own stories, our own renewal. Our respite will be from December 6, 2024 until January 14, 2025. We still take submissions throughout our hiatus. And Appalachia Bare’s Folklore Short Story Contest submissions will continue until the deadline at midnight on January 8. Our magazine has grown and our submissions have soared. Our staff is so grateful and excited that all our talented people continue to submit their stories and experiences. While we will acknowledge receipt of submissions via email, we carefully devote our time and energy to each writing, gallery, video, etc., so it might take a little time to receive a follow-up email.
When we return, Appalachia Bare will feature Pellissippi State Community College’s Write the World Contest winners in fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. And we’ll have a new year filled with more extraordinary Appalachian content and a better, updated platform in our magazine.
In the meantime, feel free to peruse our site. Read the stories and histories told by our people, of our people, with our people, for our people. Hear the music and view the galleries and artwork, the overall talent in this mountainous region my heart adores and where my spirit is connected.
Below, you will find links to our staff’s work. We wish everyone a beautiful, safe, healthy holiday season.
Delonda Anderson
Chief Editor
Tom Anderson – Admin and Info
- The Floods of Johnstown, Pennsylvania (firsthand accounts)
- “Let’s Compose Something”: Sergei Rachmaninoff and Knoxville, Tennessee
- The Black Bear
- Legacy by Jay Reace: A Review
- Martha Graham and Appalachian Spring
Grant Mincy – Science and Environmental Scholar
- Dead Man’s Run
- Memorial
- Climate Rhythm: Evidence of Change Along the Hiwassee River
- Blossoms, Part 1, Part 2
- Rhythm: Kayak Adventure, Part 1, Part 2
Edward Francisco – Associate Editor and Co-Founder, Novelist and Pulitzer Prize Nominee
- The Indignity of Knowing: Amber Albritton Debut Collection Review
- Reading Faulkner by Richard Marius: A Review
- Fool Killer
- Cormac McCarthy’s Stella Maris: A Novel About Madness and Mathematics
- The Strange Case of David Lang
Delonda Anderson – Chief Editor and Co-Founder
- Danita Dodson is Present and Connected: An Interview with the Poet
- “Joyous Freedom” – Joseph “Black Atticus” Woods: An Interview with Knoxville, Tennessee’s Poet Laureate (The transcribed interview is in two parts (Part 1 and Part 2). But the entire, unedited interview is captured in the audio.)
- Taught
- Look at Her
- The American Crow: “Caws” It Lives in Appalachia
**Featured image: “John Ownby Cabin in the snow,” Andrea Walton, Great Smoky Mountains National Park – Wikimedia, pub dom mark