The Appalachian Life

I am reading a book by Deany Brady entitled "An Appalachian Childhood". It is a collection of her memories of being born and raised in the backwoods of Appalachia, dirt poor but well loved.

Some of the things she says reminds me of my life - even now. For instance, she explains that dinner is what most call lunch and supper is what some call dinner. Still that way at my house.

Another thing she talks about is the youngest child is called "the baby" until another baby arrives. That was always true in my family. In fact, my nephew was "the baby" until he was six years old and my niece and my daughter arrived within three months of each other. If we had a family gathering, they might be called "the babies", but usually they were referred to by name so as not to confuse everyone.

She talks about "pilot snakes". That rang a vague bell and Husband says he remembers snakes being called that. But we didn't know what kind of snake that was. So I looked it up. I'm  no clearer than before. Some sites say it is another name for copperheads. Others say it is a chicken snake or a rat snake, and they got the name "pilot" because they made way, or piloted a way, for poisonous snakes to come in.

Mrs. Brady is a few years older than my mother. We spoke on the telephone, revealing that she remembers my mother in school. Mother remembered her and her sister, too.

 My mother's family was far from rich, but they were much better off financially than Mrs. Brady's family. As far as I know, my mother never went hungry or without clothes and shoes. They lived in fairly decent dwellings, and I believe, as an only child, she was a bit spoiled. Mrs. Brady's childhood was one that many people envision when talking bout the "old" Appalachia - severe poverty and struggle.

When I spoke as a guest author at a book club, with the book discussion surrounding my book, "Out on a Limb of the Family Tree", someone pointed out I didn't mention this terrible poverty in my book. I did, but not overtly, because my family did not suffer in this way.

You really do  have to write what you know.

Mrs. Brady lives in San Francisco with her daughter. I haven't finished the book, but it will be interesting to find out how she got from here to there.