Some thoughts on where we come from

 Waiting for the northbound train in Jacksonville, Florida, in 1921

during the Great Migration.

Youngsters from Washington D.C. in the early 1940s.

The following was written by Bobbie Rutledge and appeared on the Appalachian
Americans Facebook page:

I knew a man, he was a poor man but an honest and hardworking man. He pulled corn for $.25 cents a day. He graduated from high school in a time, where most young people did not. He wanted to go to University of Georgia to become a Soil Conservationist since he came from sharecroppers. He wanted to import their lives and see that they could own their own land. However he got a letter from Uncle Sam that he was needed. This man, who had never gone any further than 25 miles from Georgia went to Texas, California, Florida, France, and Germany. He drove a tank. When he got back he farmed along side his parents. He picked cotton from sun up till sundown with no complaints. He married a beautiful black haired lady. They had a child that was their world. The year the child was born his cotton crop made $50 and the hospital bill was $48. He finally decided that farming wasn’t gonna get since child any future. So he went to work driving he’s y equipment for the county he lived in grading roads thru the farm land he used to farm. That broke his heart. But life goes on. One day he was driving with his son in law , in the SIL new trick when they turned wrong and the SIL got on ONSTAR to find their way back. The man listened to the directions given and when they were back home, he turned to my hubby and said that was nice of that man to stay in the phone with us. Hubby laughed and said it was a computer. Daddy said well I swear, this came from a man, who walked to school, did his homework by lamplight and saw electric light come into his house. Saw TV come into it’s on. Finally got a telephone at the age of 40. This man who went without dinner so his child could eat. This man. Is who Americans have to thanks for being what we are today. This man is my Daddy, thanks Daddy, I sure miss you.

A Victorian street scene

From Journey of a Mountain Woman:

When I was growing up when a person was near death, the Drs would say 'call the family in' and in most cases no matter where they were they would go back to the old home place in the mountains. It was a duty and a thankfulness, and A loving grateful opportunity to say goodbye. we all dreaded to hear those words...call the family in. Things have changed but us old folks remember...we remember the goodbyes, the casket set up in the living room, us sitting up all night, drinking strong coffee, that last time. The house smelled of flowers and fried chicken and the table was laden with food brought in by neighbors. Many of us will grieve this Christmas for those who have left us. Many of us are the only one left of a large family and we will smile through the tears as we remember those sad words...call the family in. Have a good night and God bless.