|
|
Post by BuckSkin on Nov 12, 2022 19:42:11 GMT
Angels on Horseback
If you liked the Book Woman stories, you will like this.
You had better watch it quick as they don't keep these up forever; I don't know how soon they will take it down.
|
|
|
|
Post by hmca on Nov 12, 2022 19:49:24 GMT
Looks like something that Berengaria would like so I tagged her, Buckskin. |
|
|
|
Post by BuckSkin on Nov 12, 2022 20:01:48 GMT
Looks like something that Berengaria would like so I tagged her, Buckskin.
Yeah, she was first in my mind when I posted the link; I already sent her a PM to bring it to her attention.
|
|
Berengaria
Established Forum Member
Posts: 398 
Open to constructive criticism of photos: Yes
|
Post by Berengaria on Nov 12, 2022 20:24:37 GMT
Thanks to you both…..you’re both so thoughtful.
|
|
|
|
Post by jackscrap on Nov 12, 2022 22:07:38 GMT
|
|
VickiD
Established Forum Member
Posts: 718
Open to constructive criticism of photos: Yes
|
Post by VickiD on Nov 13, 2022 3:42:50 GMT
What an inspiring story, BuckSkin. I can definitely relate to that. My mother was born in Johnson County, KY in 1928--one of 8 children. Many of those photos in the video are similar to ones I have from her early years. My grandmother lived in an area that could be inaccessible during heavy rains...and had outdoor plumbing. Not always the most pleasant place to visit, but I still have great memories. I'm fairly sure there was no hospital nearby, and my mother and her siblings were all born at home. This video gave me chills at times! I loved it. Thank you! |
|
Berengaria
Established Forum Member
Posts: 398
Open to constructive criticism of photos: Yes
|
Post by Berengaria on Nov 13, 2022 9:03:30 GMT
A wonderful story. I’m so glad it got recorded. When we moved up to the country from New York the doctors themselves still made house calls. Now due to Covid a visiting nurse comes to check on me every few months. And Vicki’s memories are so interesting.. I date back to the outhouse days too, But even so, I’ve always loved the country best, even with it’s drawbacks. Appalachia must be a wonderful place to live, even in spite of the poverty. Thanks BuckSkin.
|
|
|
|
Post by BuckSkin on Nov 13, 2022 20:08:52 GMT
I date back to the outhouse days too
My Paternal grandparents honestly thought they invented electricity, telephones, and flush-toilets during the Korean war when they moved from old ratty sharecropper's houses into an old house in the city limits of a little mud-hole of a town (where we all still live).
My maternal grandparents did have electricity when I was little, but that was all they had.
One naked 300-watt light-bulb in the center of each room, with a long string hanging down to turn it On and Off; grandpa was ingenious enough to clip a big red-and-white fishing floater onto the end of each string so that you had a much better chance of finding the string.
Grandpa was also smart enough that he built their "toilet" (that was the women's politically corrected up word to replace what the rest of us called it) on the end of a tool building, such that the business end of things hung right over Little Lily Creek; so, in a sense, I guess you could say that they did have running water.
This smart thinking solved two common problems usually associated with such outside facilities.
Firstly, the creek carried away any evidence of whatever activities may have taken place inside, so that you didn't have to dig another hole and drag the whole mess over the new hole when the old hole could take no more.
This hole digging outhouse relocating business took place about four times a year; so that, in short order, the back yard was soon riddled with old holes; many is the kid who has been running around in the yard and was suddenly swallowed up in the earth when he (or she) happened to run across one of these old holes.
In most cases, they only went in about chin deep, as Kentucky ground is hard and full of tree roots and big rocks (we had a now very politically incorrect word for those rocks as well; it was derived from the fact that the rocks were as hard and had the appearance of the heads of some of our neighbors; these neighbors called those rocks by the same name that we did, so it must not have offended them) and most of Kentucky has a layer of Soapstone down about two feet beneath the surface (which is why so much of Kentucky is so swampy, even up on the ridges; this layer of Soapstone will not allow the surface to drain) and most hole diggers would tire out and quit digging long before the hole got dangerously deep.
Of course, when a youngen did have the misfortune of dropping plumb to his ears in one of these holes, he was not allowed back in the house 'til he went to the "Big Hole", which was about a hunnert yards down the holler from grandpa's running water outhouse, and jumped in head-an'-ears and took a bath, clothes and all; many is the fond memory I have of swimming and catching crawdaddies and minners in the Big Hole.
Secondly, by having his facilities firmly attached to and actually a structural part of the big tool building, pranksters couldn't carry it off or turn it over (often with some poor victim inside); it is most definitely hard to concentrate on one's business when the whole thing is being violently rocked back and forth by a bunch of ignorant bullies.
Of course, hanging out over the creek like it did, it was the only outhouse I can ever remember having to climb a set of stairs to get inside, which may have posed a few problems for the ambulatory challenged.
For those times when it was dark and rainy, or snowing, or coming an ice storm, granny kept "The Pot" under the edge of the bed.
Us kids used "The Pot" whenever it was dark outside as we sure didn't want to step out that back door for fear that Ol' Rawhead-an'-Bloody-Bones might be lurking around out there and get us --- we was always careful to put the lid back on the pot before we slid it back under grandma and grandpa's bed - one good hide-tannin' was enough to make us remember.
In 1968, granny got a black-and-white TV, the first one in the family; and, we all gathered in to watch them try to fool us into thinking they had actually landed on the moon.
In 1969, granny quit washing in the old iron kettle over the fire and got a General Electric wringer-washer that sat outside close to the well; what with water standing all around from the washing process, and grandpa being some sort of an electrical genius, that thing would knock the living daylights out of you if you got anywhere close to it --- granny took to wearing four-buckle gum boots; and, after a few good doses of juice, us kids had developed the idea to give that thing a respectful distance --- they would have been a lot better off to have got a genuine gas-burner Maytag --- I never knowed of anybody gettin' lextrocuted by a gasoline Maytag engine --- besides, it would have saved on fuses in that 30-amp fuse-box.
It was 1972, after the big killer tornado, when granny finally got running water in the house --- only one cold-water spigot at the kitchen sink, but it saved a lot of trips out the back door to run the sand-bucket down the well and fill a bucket --- I can well remember that deep hollow echoing sound as the sand-bucket bounced off the insides of the well-casing on it's way down the well, and the Kersplooosh when it entered the water, and the schhhhluuup as the water filled the sand-bucket.
There was a huge Beech beside the well with a huge limb hanging out over the well; grandpa had a big iron pulley on this limb, with the sand-bucket on a rope that was threaded through this pulley; the rope was a continuous loop whose bottom end stayed in the well --- like the fishing floater light switches and over-the-creek outhouse, Grandpa's sand-bucket and pulley system was way ahead of his less intellectual neighbors where you had to hand-over-hand manhandle the sand-bucket full of water up out of the well.
They actually set up the well-rig in the huge storm-cellar grandpa was building in the side of the hill and drilled the well for the running water right in the back corner of the cellar; this move kept the well pump, pressure-tank, and so forth safe from freezing; if that killer tornado hadn't scared grandpa into digging a cellar, granny might never have got running water.
Before that, we all drank our water from a dipper in that bucket; if one of us was sick, we all got sick; if grandpa wanted to rinse the Mammoth Cave Twist from his mouth, he drank from that same dipper in that same bucket that little Johnny with the perpetual runny nose drank from, and all the rest of us drank from.
In 1979, grandpa kicked the bucket and granny had a back room built on the house and put in a flush toilet and we got a McDonalds; I have often heard granny say "we used to eat in the house and do our ___in' outside; now, we eat out and ___ in the house".
Now, back to those holes people were forevermore diggin'; people not only used them for their original intended purpose, they also used them to discard numerous items; plus, kids thought of them as wishing wells and would toss pennies in them (not me - if I got aholt of a penny, I hung onto it - five of them made a nickel); and, people who wore those old loose-legged one-size-fits-all Rental clothes were forever losing bill-folds, pocket-knives, pistols, coins, and such down in them.
A few years ago, people in Green County Kentucky got awfully famous, even on national TV, for poking around in people's yards and finding these old holes and digging them out, finding all sorts of now-valuable goodies.
They found all kinds of valuable liquor and soft-drink bottles, still intact and in perfect shape on account of having such a soft landing when initially thrown in and then being covered up in equally soft stuff.
I couldn't find anything on the Green County outhouse excavators, but I did find THIS and THIS; there are a bunch of really interesting videos on YouTube by some guys called Crick Diggers, but they are all an hour or more long.
|
|
|
|
Post by jackscrap on Nov 13, 2022 20:40:30 GMT
Thanks for sharing these wonderful memories, always interesting to learn how past generations made do with what they had, the kids today have no idea about what hardship really means and whinge about almost everything.
|
|
|
|
Post by kdcintx on Nov 13, 2022 23:08:37 GMT
Very educational. It was certainly a hard life. Thanks for sharing.
|
|
|
|
Post by hmca on Nov 15, 2022 0:36:15 GMT
Well she certainly was a wonderful example of someone who took charge of her life and moved forward after dealing with some major heartbreak. It was interesting that women from England and Scotland joined in her earliest efforts and how resourceful she was in securing financial assistance.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lillias on Nov 15, 2022 10:48:49 GMT
Thanks for sharing this BuckSkin. It goes to show what a different world it could be if we all had a respect and a care for each other instead of the me me me mentality which appears to permeate much of society today. |
|
|
|
Post by cats4jan on Nov 15, 2022 12:20:28 GMT
Very interesting. TFS
|
|
