NEWS FROM THE HILLS
OUR REUNION
Written by Anna Mae Murphy of Birch River
Every year when we were small
We’d have a reunion in the fall
Kin folks came from far and near
With joyful hearts and much good cheer.
‘Twas quite a gathering we recall
And we looked forward to every fall.
We numbered many, ‘way back then.
Our families were large, and all were kin.
We’d hug, we’d laugh,
We’d talk and sing,
And enjoy the good food
Our folks would bring.
Time passes quickly, our numbers grow small
As we meet for our reunion in the fall.
God calls us away, and we leave one by one
For a much better place when our work here is done.
Soon we’ll meet all our loved ones
Who have gone on before,
And we’ll have a great reunion
On heaven’s bright shore.
There is something about the hills that calls a person home. No matter where you have wandered, or where you have settled, there is a longing to come back to the place of your roots. The people of Appalachia have a special affinity for the hills of home.
My mother used to say that once you drank the clear, cold water from one of the sparkling springs of Clay County, you would always come back. I know of folks who had to move away because of lack of employment here, but always had plans to come home when they retired. It didn’t always work out that way, but the longing was still there.
The Hagar Grade School reunion this past Saturday was a joyous occasion. Old friends and school mates gathered once more to talk, reminisce and tie tighter the bonds of friendship that were forged through the years. Hagar School closed 46 years ago, but the large crowd that gathered had many vivid memories.
A banquet was spread out for our noon meal. It was old time country cooking at its best. I’ve always contended that our church women are the best cooks in the country. There were too many dishes to try to name, and a table of homemade desserts. We feasted.
There is one teacher living who taught at Hagar School, Mrs. Imogene Carper Stalnaker, but she was unable to attend due to ill health. There were many folks there who got their earliest education under her teaching. We recalled Mr. Otis Hinkle, our first male teacher (in this group) and the awe we had of him.
Irene Hamrick Cantrell recalled the first time she saw him. It was her first day at school, and she was painfully shy. She was standing under one of the huge beech trees that towered over the school yard when he approached her. He was a big man, and we were all a little afraid of him.
“Well, what’s your name, little girl?” he asked. She looked at him without a word. He tried again, “What’s your daddy’s name?” Still not a word. He pressed further, “Well, what’s your mommy’s name?”
Still no answer. He tried another tactic, “What does your daddy call your mommy?”
“Hon,” she squeaked.
We all had memories of “jumping the hump” when we were sleigh riding in the winter. We rode straight off the hill on our sleds and sleighs, over a hump halfway down. Of course we flew out in the air before connecting to the ground again. We looked and looked, but could find no trace of it. We surmised that brush must have grown over it.
We recalled the time that Betty Payne Nichols (deceased) rode her sleigh down the hill just as Mr. Hinkle was climbing back up. She drove her sleigh between his legs, plowed him down, and rode him all the way to the bottom on her back. She swore it was an accident.
We remembered the games of “Longtown” played on the bald playground. It was a type of softball, played with a ball that was nearly always losing its innards. We had endless games of “stink base,” snap-the whip, and marbles. Every boy always had a pocket full of glass marbles.
The girls played sissy games of hopscotch, Pretty Girl Station, and Red Rover. Sometimes we played marbles also, and jumping rope never got old.
There were sad memories as well as warm memories. Many of our classmates have already passed on, as well as all of our teachers except Mrs. Stalnaker. Each year there is someone else missing. We remember with fondness their young days, when we all played and studied together at Hagar Grade School.
We’ve had a good response for the recipe for Corn Pudding. Most of them were basically the same.
CORN PUDDING
1 stick melted butter or margarine (1/2 cup)
1 can cream style corn
1 can whole kernel corn, with juice
2 beaten eggs
1 (8 oz.) carton sour cream
1 box Jiffy corn muffin mix
Mix all ingredients together. Do not prepare the corn muffin mix but add dry to other ingredients. Pour into greased 8″ casserole dish. Bake at 350 for 45 min. to one hour. (Many who submitted the recipe added that this is simple to make, and delicious.)
With the devastating hurricanes that have hit parts of our country, and millions of people fleeing their homes, I like this poem that defines our true shelter.
SHELTER
GOD is our shelter and relief
When life’s mountains are high and its rivers deep
But I fearfully scale then swim the tide
To that place of safety on the other side.
When my days are sad and my flesh is weak
Still I must struggle and strive to seek
That place of rest and peace of mind
Which GOD, my father, must define.
For how can I, alone, withstand
Life’s fierce storms and howling winds?
Or find an anchor for my grief
Without GOD’S shelter and relief.
By Adda Leah Davis
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