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The Mountain Spirit Contents From Our President............................................................. 3 Features: A Tribute to Sir Willie Coyle,Knight of F aith................. 5 The Elderly in Winter: a Winter’s Tale of Appalachia .. 12 The Lone Fiddler...............................................................14 “ Hard Work Never Hurt Nobody” .................................. 16 Departments Editorial N otes..................................................................... 4 The CAP CLOSEUP.............................................................10 Around the P roject...............................................................17

The Magazine of the Christian Appalachian Project January 1982 Volume I, No. 1 Editor-in-Chief.......................... Rev. Ralph Beiting E d ito r.................................. . . . . R. Kenton Craven Assistant E d itor........................J. Randolph Jordan Advisory B oard ........................Mike McLaughlin, Bill Begley Subscriptions............................Sheila Helton, Jean Brown Typesetting................................ Sheila Helton

The Mountain Spirit is published six times a year. The annual subscription price is $5.00. Subscriptions and other correspon dence should be sent to The Mountain Spirit, Christian Ap palachian Project, 322 Crab Orchard Road, Lancaster, Ky. 40446. Copyright 1982, The Christian Appalachian Project, Inc. All rights reserved. The Christian Appalachian Project is a non-denominational, non-profit Christian service organization operating throughout Eastern Kentucky. We rely on private donations for over 99% o f our funding. The Project operates on the philosophy that “ helping people help themselves” is the best approach to Ap palachian poverty.

January's Theme In this issue, we focus on the elderly in Appalachia, on their problems and strengths, and on our work with them. On the COVER, Mr. Willie Coyle of Rockcastle County, Ky., ponders the im ponderable. The Cover Story begins on page 5. Below, CAP volunteers David Daunhauer, Nancy Fuhs, and Lynn Daniels visit with Willie. Special thanks to Willie, and to the others who graciously permitted us to photograph them. Cover photo by Randolph Jordan.

From Our President

Wisdom— A Gift o f Old Age

Reverend Ralph Beiting, Founder Christian Appalachian Project

January 1982

The other day I took more than a dozen senior citizens for an outing on a houseboat. The lake was nestled in the hills of Eastern Ken tucky. Though it was November, the weather was unseasonably warm. The sky was almost a hazel blue and the vivid colors had left the trees, but there was still much that was beautiful on every side. I had the feeling that it was good for me to be here. The old folks felt the same. Although it was the first time all but one of them had ever been on a houseboat they were very much at home. Conversation came easily to them and before long we began to talk about many things. I asked them what they thought was the most important thing they had ever done in their lives. I wasn’t sure what I would hear, but the response was nearly always the same. “ I had a family. .. I loved my husband or w ife... I am proud of my kids. . . I had troubles but my home meant everything to me.” I was surprised that I heard nothing of how much money they had saved or how many acres they owned or what trips they had taken. I am sure that material things were an important part of their lives. Many of them had experienced hardships almost impossible for our present generation to understand. They must have dreamed of having things that would make their lives easier and better. But now that the years had worked their wonder the values they recalled were all per sonal contacts. Some of our group were widows or widowers and I asked them if they ever thought of getting married again. Most said yes if the right per son came along. ‘‘What would you look for in a husband or wife?” I asked. “ I would like someone who

would be good to m e ... I would like someone I could share things with and go places together.” “ But wouldn’t they have to be good looking or rich or important?” I asked. The old folks looked at me a little surprised. “ You get the most important things first,” they said. “ You get love and if the other things you mentioned are there it is OK but you get the first things first.” The afternoon ended and everyone went home. I sat alone on the back deck of the boat and watched the sun set. “ They shouldn’t have given those answers,” I thought. Everything they read in the papers or hear on the radio or see on television tells them that youth is the only important time of life and that wealth and possessions are what make one important and life worth while. They just didn’t give the right answers. The sun was nearly gone now and the hint of a star could be seen in the east. The breeze had come up and it had a chill about it. I locked up the boat and got into my car and headed home. It still puzzled me though why had they answered that way. Why had they answered contrary to the standards of our consumer society? Could it be that age is the ultimate wisdom given us, an opportunity to judge values truly? Is it possible that it is only in the twilight of life that we see clearly? Is it necessary to have spent a lifetime with things to know that all that really counts is loved ones and friends? I pulled the car in the driveway and turned off the keys. Somehow I felt good about the prospect of growing old. I can only hope that the wisdom and good sense of my older friends might someday be mine as well. cap. 3

Editorial Notes In this our first issue of The Mountain Spirit, which replaces Kentucky River Soundings, we’d like to speak a little about our pur pose as a magazine. As noted in the December issue of Soundings, in creased printing and postal costs have forced a reconsideration of our format. The Mountain Spirit will appear only six times a year instead of the previous twelve; however, we will now be able to make the issues longer, with more space for photos and features. The Christian Ap palachian Project has grown so large that we cannot hope to cover all that is happening in each of our programs. But by careful focusing, we would like to draw our readers

closer to Appalachia, its people, land, and spirit, as well as to the work we do here with your support. m Our first issue focuses on the elderly in Appalachia, and the programs which the Christian Ap palachian Project provides for them. The other day, while visiting in Southern Estill County, I turned by mistake up a thin gravel trace in to a long, narrow hollow. At its end five miles from the nearest hardsurface road, I came to a two story log cabin surrounded by a barn, hog pen, and rusting farm machinery from another era. There I met (let us call them) the Scampers, who first settled here fifty years ago, just af ter their marriage.

JORDAN

Mrs. Scamper sat in the living room chatting with a neighbor, while she churned butter by hand. Six gallons of fresh milk sat in the kitchen. While the wood fire crackled in the antique stove, I took care to look around. Kerosene lamps, for there is no electricity here, and perhaps none is wanted. Everything is clean, but simple and spare, from the bedroom loft to the ancient shotgun on the wall. A large family Bible (the kind genealogists dream of) rests on a table, the only other decoration in the room. The Scampers are polite and courteous, and explain how they live on forty craggy acres backed by a stone cliff several hundred feet high. It is a tough life, but they have what they need here. Mostly they have a way of life that has not changed radically since the first settlers came over the mountains. ###

Marie Vanasse, permanent volun teer in Lancaster, greets participant in the elderly program. 4

The writer Robert Penn Warren once referred to them, a bit un fairly, as “ the swill that poured over the Appalachian lip.” They speak of coming from “ across the water” as if their grandparents came a short while ago. And their memory is strong with the imprint of disgust with any form of encroachment on

individual freedom, as if George Ill’s coattails could be seen turning down the hollow entrance, Ken tucky long rifles speeding their exit. Their speech still carries tones and phrases from six and ten centuries ago, from their AngloSaxon “ hit” to grand phrases of King James English. Here, held for a brief moment, is the picture of a culture we are about to lose forever.

Perhaps that is the only basis for a sound culture, one based in hard work, family, and God.

For there are not many farmers like the Scampers left, nor do many of the elderly in Appalachia boast of their own land. But visiting them reminds us of something we have lost in our scramble to negate the past. The grip of a gnarled hand around a simple tool, and the special silence of slow, dignified speech, bespeak a life that is firm and undoubting in eternal truths. The universities today talk of something called “ values clarification.” I wonder if the only way to clarify values isn’t to test them out against rocky ground for about ten generations. Perhaps that is the only basis for a sound culture, one based in hard work, family, and God. ###

Therefore in this issue we have chosen not to focus only on the problems of the elderly in Ap palachia, but also on their gifts to us in a darkening time. A society which does not care for its senior citizens is a society that cares neither for its children nor its health, for it has ab jured the virtue of patience, the patience it takes to carry and rear a child, the patience it takes to listen to the p ast.—RKC cap.

The Mountain Spirit

A visit with Willie Coyle in Calloway Hollow along the Rockcastle River warms the blood and the spirit. Though stooped from years of hard labor in rock quarries, on farms, and in building roads for the WPA, at 90 Willie’s strong faith gives him a spirit as straight and tall as the moun tain pine. “ I don’t have too much company-ain’t many that around here come,” he greets us at the door, his apron a sign that he’s been doing up the break fast dishes. Seeing Lynn Daniels, Nancy Fuhs, and the other volunteers who have come to visit with him this day visibly lifts his spirits, and his hawksharp eyes twinkle with anticipation of a good talk. “ These are wonderful girls—I bin a missin’ you.” Whether he has just walked ten miles into Mt. Vernon to pay a bill, or has just finished chopping a pile of kindling wood for his stove, Willie is always ready for people, especially young people, and for a good talk about everything from home remedies to the Bible, his favorite subject. As one of our CAP directors sighed one August morning, “ I just left twenty volunteers on Willie Coyle’s front porch. I’ve lost them to Sir Willie.” January 1982

On this day, the reason for Willie’s beloved status in the Christian Appalachian Project stands out as clearly as the ridge line above Hoss Lick Creek, where Willie was born and raised in nearby Jackson County. There, Willie recalls, he was raised in a “ high, healthy place, where the moun tains went so far they looked right blue,” and in those days he was “ never sick a day.” His mother dead, and his father killed while lumbering in Tennessee (“ he didn’t play by the safety rules” ), Willie was reared by a stepmother, and was early on his own. “ I never made but a little money in my life. I made 50 cents a day cutting corn. I would clear an acre of ground for $6. I worked on roads, in quarries, on farms. I had to get up at 2 o’clock in the morning to eat my breakfast and get out for my ride when I worked on the WPA, and got back home at 8 in the evening. Oh, I went through something, I tell you. It’s awful what I went through. I hope nobody else goes through with some of what I’ve went through.” Loneliness is on his mind, too, on this day of talking. “ I am the only one living in my family, I’m the only one left now, they’re all dead and 5

CRAVEN

“ NO! NO! Hit don’t despair me a bit in the world, how bad things happen, for Daniel prophesied, ‘there’s goin’ to be a time of trouble, such as has never been seen before. The wicked shall do wicked, evil men shall wax worse and worse,” he pauses as the King James lines run through his memory. “ Wickedness-there’s goin’ to be the highest, the meanest thing that ever they can do now. But don’t despair, cause He’ll come. Yeah, be a lookin’ for Him.”

Talk of his family reminds him of another pain ful fact of his existence, the destruction of the family graveyard, where his twin brother and many others of his family rest. ‘‘The fellow tore away all the tombstones away from there, sowed grass and made a pasture of it. Look like the law ought not allow ‘em to do that. You can’t tell there’s ever been a graveyard there now. Some people’ll do anything but the right thing.” Like most country graveyards in Kentucky, the Coyle sites were on the old family farm. Their removal prompts Willie to a wondering outrage about the human creature, and his persistence in the ways of evil. ‘‘Jes’ like the crimes out here,” he waves his hand around the hollow rim, “ people tell me, I don’ have to ask nobody. It’s sad what’s happenin’, worse all the time. There’s a lot of dirt done up here.” Willie’s knowledge on this point is not academic. Last spring two men who pretended to be from a government home repair project visited his home. While one talked to him, the other slip ped into the back of the house and out the back door with a shortening can full of silver, $200 in 5 dollar bills, and the old family shotgun.

“ Now listen,” his eyes burn with tearful joy as he takes in all his visitors, “ the Spirit of God, it’s wonderful. It never leads you off completely. Now the Lord kep’ ‘em here when He was alive. When He died, when he was crucified and shed His blood on th’ cross-you got the picture of Him on the cross, aincha?-He cleansed us from all unrighteousness. Then He sent His Spirit, ‘for I go not away. For lo, on the third day, He sent the Spirit.’ He told ‘em, he’d give ‘em example befo’ he left here of what to do. But ‘if I go not away, the Comforter will not come. But if I go away, the Father will send you the Comforter, the Holy Ghost. He’ll guide you, teach you, bring all things to your memory, show you things to come.’ That Spirit now, will keep you, keep you in the right shape.”

JORDAN

gone but one son in Richmond. Yeah, I feel pretty lonesome now. I’m a tellin’ you, it makes it bad that way.”

As he passes from thinking on the evils men do, Willie lightens, and he is as consumed with ecstasy as any saint who has ever lived. “ Boy, we sittin’ on top of the . . . the righeous are sittin’ on top of the world. We in the world, but we are not o f the world. Get the Lord on your side, and you’re out of the world. It’s jes’ as plain as th’ nose on th’ face.”

But there is no rancor, no desire for revenge in Willie; rather, a musing sadness possesses him as he speaks of these matters. “ I used to have an awful temper when I was young. Now when something bothers me, like this mornin’ when I broke a bowl, I jes’ say ‘Praise the Lord,’ loud, LIKE THAT, an’ go on ‘bout my bisness.” He grins, we grin, and we share the sad humour of man. But doesn’t all this evil and pain get him down?

“ Now sometimes I feel so good I feel like I’m 18 years old. My Lord! I’m going to a city where I’ll never grow old. I’ll have a new body and a new life, and never feel bad. No death. No taxes. Just streets of gold, oh yeah, wonderful. It’ll be beautiful there, so white and pretty. Such a light that your eyes couldn’ stan’ to look upon it. The glory of God will give light to the City. How beautiful heaven is! Oh, what a God He is, ain’t he wonderful! People don’ realize what they’re missin’! We’ll all be together, all be as one. Oh Lord, it jes’ looks like I can pretty near see that. But when we get that new body, we can look upon it, get inside the eastern gates, get in there and draw into eternity, see the loved ones that’s gone on before, where they are rejoicin’ all the time. Boy, when that trumpet sounds, they’ll be a cornin’ out of the graves, too, and them graves burstin’. Boy, people don’t study on this. I’m a tellin’ you, it pays to be ready, yes sir. Yes sir!” Somehow, what Willie has said has entered the room, and entered us, because Willie’s fire is a fire of love. The verse of a 17th century mystical English poet (or as Willie would say, a poet ‘‘across the water” ) comes to mind, “ They have all gone into the world of light.” A volunteer asks for a song, and as Willie’s strong voice breaks into “ When the roll is called up yonder,” it is clear that he can see us all together, in a circle of love, in a circle of light. And Willie Coyle has given us more than we can ever give him. cap.

I had a home always, I never was without a home, ‘cause I played honest n ’ straight with everybody, and treated everybody nice. And, boys, I ’d work fo r people and they’d keep me all night, and when that fellow got through with me, he’d send me on to another. Alius had a home. January 1982

CRAVEN

“ I can feel Him in my body, an’ I know I’m ready. He said you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. Oh, Lordy, Praise the Lord, I feel better now.” In the dim light of his living room, Willie has warmed his circle of listeners, and in the quiet, we can hear only the crackle of the wood stove. Being with Willy makes us feel good. He is convinced, and his assurance and fervor carry us with him.

The Bible says, we know we have passed from death into life, ‘cause we love the brothers. We got to have a love fo r them-we got to—to get that death out o f us and get that eternal life. This body’s gonna die, o f course, go back to the mother dust—but that soul better not die. I t ’d better stay alive, better have that life in it now, so it can go on to eternity. Boy, I ’m a tellin’ya, that’s a wonderful place, oh yeah!

JORDAN

More Willie talk.

Oh Lordy, when Vsa growin ’ up, people come and stay all night with us where I ’s raised at. They’d come visitin’, and when anybody got down sick, they’d bring ‘em sompn to eat in, an’ if they got out an’ wasn’t able to hoe they fields out, they’d come and hoe the corn fields out—ain’t nothin’ like that now, they let ‘em go-people don’t help anymore.

Five acres o f corn would fill a big crib full-stuff growed then-years of corn big as stove wood, big long ones. It didn ’t take too much o f that to fill a crib full. We raised plenty a ’ corn, we raised all kind o f good vegetables, had all kinds o f good food, and no insects to bother ‘em. You could just throw beans out on the ground. I f they got under the dirt a little, they’d a sprouted. We put beans in the corn field, it ’d even bend the corn stalks over, they was so many beans on th ’ vine.

What keeps you going in life? Well 1 tell you, it’s that one up there, the Lord, he’s a holdin’ me here ‘n takin’ care of me. I know. Had a man come in here yesterday, ‘n had a prayer for me her, an’ I’m a feelin’ good this mornin’. He anointed me with olive oil, one of the brothers, and I’m fine now. Oh, we don’t do the healin’. God’s the one ‘at does the work, through us. He’s a wonderful God. Do you do any preaching? Well, sometimes I get up and talk to ‘em right smart. I read the Bible to ‘em. Oh yeh, I tell ‘em around here. Not many of ‘em like to come ‘round me too much, cause I tell ‘em, I give ‘em the straight goods about it, you know. They don’t like it, the worldly ones. What’s wrong with the world today? Oh my goodness, boy—they lettin’ that old Satan, that old bad man, lead ‘em. They need to let that 8

New Man in there, Our Lord, somebody to take care of them. He takes care of me. He said if we’d do His will, we’d prosper, but . . . Is this the end time? We are livin’ in the last days of it. It’s a gettin’ close. Its gonna get so bad, the Lord’s a goin’ to come after His Church, and make us a deliver ance. I want to be ready and meet him when he comes in that cloud of glory with ten thousand of his angels. Boy! He said, “ blessed and holy is he that has a part in the second resurrection. On such, the second death has no power.” The second death-it won’t hurt the righteous. But the wicked man’s goin’ to get into trouble, he’s goin’ to bear that second death—where they die and never die, where they get a body and it don’t burn up. Boy! it pays a body to shun that, now! and be ready for the cornin’ of the Lord! Heaven is sure worth gainin’, and hell is sure worth shunnin’. Satan’U get you into trouble, but he sure won’t get you out. The Mountain Spirit

JORDAN

Some people say, I can’t see into it. They'll never see into it. Never. Jesus Lord said he added daily to the Church such as shall be saved. Let ‘em get into the Church, and they can see out then. Exactly! They can see out then, and see exactly what they gonna have to have, what they gonna have to do. They can see out! I tell you, you can put a hole in an’ ol’ barrel, an’ look in ‘ere, and hit’ll be dark. But you can get in that barrel, and boy you can see out good and clear! When you get in with Jesus, you can see out there!

You don’t have to tell nobody you got religion, the Spirit will testify. What you are will testify. The world can see you got something they ain’t got. One woman got up one day at the Church—boy, the preacher hit her jest right!—and said, “well, I want to get up today and show the world what side I ’m ’ Preacher said, “well sister, now looka here. You live it seven days a week, an’ the world will know what side you ’re on!” I could go with people clear crost the water, I could be right at home with those people if they love the Lord. They’re no strangers, people who love the Lord. I f I didn’t have that love, death would take me over. Right down here is the dressin ’place fo r eternal life. January 1982

and farewell JORDAN

CRAVEN

When I go through the day, I go back in there and have a prayer, and then I have my mind on-like it says, have a mind o f Christ. I don’t get my mind o ff on the things o f the world. I have a mind o f Christ, a mind upon God. The Bible says pray without ceasing, pray a whole lot! It didn’t mean you fall down here and never get up! But have a prayerful heart, have the heart right, have the mind o f Christ on you, that’s a prayer to the Lord. I take time to pray. I get up and as soon as I put the cover up, I fall down and pray. And after I do the dishes. And at twelve o ’clock. And lots o f times in the day, I go back down in prayer.

The CAP

Lynn Daniels A Connecticut Yankee in Rockcastle County

by the CAP News Service JORDAN

In each issue o f The Mountain Spirit, the CAP CLOSEUP will focus on a staff member o f the Christian Appalachian Project. W h e n Mark Twain wrote A Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur’s Court, he gave us a classical picture of the perils and pleasures of moving suddenly from one culture to another. Lynn Daniels, our own Bridgeport, Connecticut Yankee, has experienced sudden changes much like those faced by the Boss in Twain’s fantasy, and she has passed through them with the same panache exhibited by Twain’s alert hero. Raised as a Catholic in Yankee territory, Lynn attended Belmont College, a Baptist institution, in Nashville, Tennessee, and began to be attracted to Southern ways and people, as well as to country music. Four years at Belmont gave her a different perspective on her own religious and cultural background, and awoke her curiosity about the land farther east in Appalachia, where much of the music of Nashville was given birth in the lives of mountain people. Coming to Appalachia to work in the Christian Appalachian Project grew partly out of that in terest. “ I was attracted by the mountains, by the simplicity of the people and the way they live.” And, it should be added, by the music. Lynn 10

weaves her musical interest into her work by playing at church services and other events in the work of the Project, where her interest in moun tain and gospel rhythms fits in perfectly with her work with people (see “ The Lone Fiddler,” p. 15). But, as Lynn would be quick to say, that is not the whole picture of her motivation in joining CAP as a permanent volunteer. After Belmont College and a major in music business, Lynn soon developed what most would think an exciting career in the Nashville music industry as a booking agent and public relations consultant. Why leave all that to work long hours as a permanent volun teer? “ The Lord works in strange ways, that’s what it is. When I was living in Nashville, my personal life was the pits, my work was getting to me and I wasn’t getting much satisfaction out of it. There was this big emptiness in my life and I didn’t know how to fill it.” Lynn had already begun a music ministry in the Catholic community at Vanderbilt University. In her searching for a way to fill the void, she turned to an elderly Dominican nun who worked in cam pus ministry. “ She got me closer to God and my own religion. I had always felt in my life that God had a special calling for me, but I was saying no to The Mountain Spirit

“Drink and be whole again beyond con fusion. ” —Robert Frost, Directive JORDAN

God, ignoring it. I’m gonna do my own thing, not Your thing. I ran my own life until about a year ago, when I joined CAP. My life was going downhill, I had just had it. I got fed up and said, I am leaving Nashville.” After looking seriously into life as a religious, she decided to put that “ on the back burner” and try a lay ministry. The International Liason office in Washington, D.C. led her to the Christian Ap palachian Project, where she has worked in an emergency shelter and in the elderly program. “ I came very open. ‘I’ll work at anything’ was my at titude.” Now twenty-five, and in her second one-year January 1982

commitment, Lynn is easy and relaxed about the future. “ I don’t know. I take each day as it comes. I came to CAP knowing that I want to do this kind of work, work for the Lord. I feel like I am doing God’s will right now in my life. I didn’t know what I was getting into. I had never done anything like this. But I just trust the Lord and go from day to day.” As for her musical talent, “ that’s from God. I struggle for the right way to use it in my life.” Currently, in addition to her other duties, Lynn is working on a gospel music group that will serve CAP in its outreach ministries, but she sees it as strictly secondary to her major task of helping people. cap. 11

O God, thou hast taught me from childhood, All my life I have proclaimed thy marvellous works; And now that la m old and my hairs are grey, Forsake me not, O God.... —Psalm 71:17-19

“ If it weren’t for you people, nobody would care about us.” So say many of the three hun dred people reached by our programs for the elderly in Lincoln, G arrard, Rockcastle, and Madison counties.

The Elderly in Winter: a Winter’s Tale of Appalachia by The CAP News Service Whether a volunteer is sharing the scriptures, taking someone to the grocery or hospital, seeking to help with a financial problem, or just visiting to check on safety or well being, CAP’S elderly program remains personal and spiritual. Former volunteers still correspond with many of the people they met during their time in the program, just as the latter frequently ask for the latest news on former volunteers. Each person served begins to feel he has joined a new family. 12

While the number of those reached seems small compared to the needs, the problem is logistics. As one volunteer remarked, “ I can travel one hun dred miles in one day, see only five people, and still remain within the borders of Lincoln County. And each visit must take time.” Another volun teer summed up the difficulty this way: “ the hard thing is deciding which people to accept into the program. We have to make some tough choices. So we determine which persons need us most.” The Mountain Spirit

Those who have the fewest resources are often those who are most isolated. Reaching them in all weathers may be difficult: some homes are inac cessible when a creek rises across a road, or whent mud and snow demand a four-wheel drive vehicle. Many lack phones, almost all lack transportation or nearby kinfolk. And yet it is in winter when the need is greatest, when the isolation of living on a ridge or in a hollow brings the long loneliness of grey dawns and long nights. Then there is the in sistent plea heard over and over, “ come and see me. Come see me more, you hear?” The CAP program addresses the central problems of isolation, deprivation, and fear by of fering community, emergency relief and home repair, and spiritual companionship. Older people in Appalachia shy away from hospitals and nur sing homes or from other residences for the aging. Besides the prohibitive expense, they tend to fear institutions and unfamiliar organizations, even churches. Like their ancestors, they prefer the in dependence of their own place, and the pride of having their own life, no matter how painful. The back cover of this issue carries a picture of an older man carrying wood he has gathered from the roadside. More frequently one sees individuals or couples picking up lumps of coal fallen from coal trucks or coal trains. Last winter, one seven ty-five year old man walked fifteen miles in freezing weather to borrow money from our emergency relief program to buy a ton of coal. The state emergency relief program for fuel had failed him, and the supply he could garner by gathering fallen coal on the railroad tracks had diminished: there were too many others more agile ahead of him. Then he had to be aided in getting the coal to his home, since the coal company refused to deliver so paltry an order. Others are beleaguered by the fear of crime, the fear of lost benefits or deception, or the fear of illness and hospitalization. But most of all, there is the simple fear of being left alone, with no-one to help or care. The nearest emergency medical assistance may be twenty miles, the nearest hospital capable of full-scale care fifty. And the nearest neighbor, a long, difficult walk. Social services may be few, or non-existent. The volunteers who try to meet these needs find their schedules hectic and demanding. According to Nancy Fuhs, head of the program in Rockcastle county, “ it depends on the day.” Emergency relief. Hospital visits. Reading and writing letters. Interpreting confusing mail. Advocacy with state agencies, banks, or insurance companies. Trans portation days for grocery buying. Transpor tation to hospitals and clinics. Special assistance January 1982

with clothing or household chores. Counseling. Referral to home repair. Visits to nursirig homes. And special events. It is through the latter, especially, that the CAP program becomes most visibly alive in its mission to create Christian community as an antidote to isolation and poverty of spirit. Through potluck dinners, birthday and holiday celebrations, and outings on the Daniel Boone or Simon Kenton, the elderly come together for prayer, song, and festivity. Some take the offered opportunity to visit hospitals and nursing homes in small groups, to visit old friends or to cheer others they meet. And as the volunteers make their rounds and phone calls, they provide the network of news that holds the community together, much like the travelling disciples in the century after Christ. But the travellers will be the first to tell you that they profit more than they give. “ They have such deep faith and trust in God!” remarks Sister Edna Marie, herself a senior citizen and a volunteer from Massachusetts. Home visits emphasize reading of the Scriptures and spiritual change. Denominational differences matter little, and of ten the volunteer finds his spirits lifted by the talk over coffee and Ephesians. “ Eve learned so much about people, about the history of Appalachia,” reports one volunteer. “ And I love the people. They make me smile a lot, the way they share their lives with you. They’re so joyful, and I think they’re more basic, find joy in smaller things in life. And they have a great love of Christ which they’re willing to share.” 13

T h e old car in the yard hasn’t been moved in over a year, yet the road leading to the old wood framed house is well traveled. The travelers who venture down this road are CAP volunteers who strive to release Johnny Cummins and his family from the pain and frustration that beset them almost a year and a half ago.

the Lone Fiddler

The victim of an automobile accident in August of 1980, Johnny is unable to work and, as a result, has become something of a recluse. “ I couldn’t hardly move a chair now,” Johnny states as he warms himself by the woodstove. But the manner with which he speaks tells of a man who suffers more from isolation and loneliness than from a back injury sustained in an automobile accident. To Johnny and his wife, Lela, friendly visitors are a special treat, especially those who are eager to hear of their family history. In many ways, the Cummins’ story is one which is common among the Appalachian poor. But at the same time, it is one that is unique with its political views and religious understanding. Cummins, now 63, has made his home on the same tract of land where he was born and reared. “ I crawled over that yard there when I was a little boy,” he states as his trembling arm points toward the front door. He continues as if to clarify, “ I couldn’t walk; I wasn’t big enough to walk.” Looking at Cummins’ bent figure, one wonders if he may once again be unable to walk across his front yard. Having left home at an early age to find work, Johnny first landed a job at a pickle factory in Louisville, Kentucky, where he con tinued to work for about two years. His return to Mount Vernon was quite fortunate; he found not only a job in a local rock quarry, but also his wife, now of 43 years, Lela.

Story and Photos by J. Randolph Jordan

In times such as these when massive economic cutbacks are being made by the Government, people like the Cummins feel that they pay an un fair price. “ The world looks pretty bad to me,” Johnny explains, ‘‘from what I can hear over the radio. I believe the President is...” he pauses, “ the wrong one. I’m Republican all right, but I don’t agree with him...Congress either. What d’ya think about these here AWAC planes they’re shippin’ over yonder?” Lela interrupts him about his fiddle. One can’t help but smile at the subtlety with which she changes the topic of conversation. The fiddle, covered with protective plastic, is unwrapped as if it were a newborn child. It is something of which Johnny is extremely proud. “ My father owned this fiddle when he was a boy!” he exclaims with a burst of new-found pride. After a few moments of plucking and tuning, he is ready to serenade his guests. The Mountain Spirit

Cummins, who has been playing the fiddle since he was a boy, now finds its difficult to play because of the trembling of his arms and hands. Nevertheless, one can easily recognize the melody which flows from the strings as that of “ What a Friend I Have in Jesus.” As he finishes, he hands the instrument to his guests. “ Take that to the light and read that in there. You don’t see that kind a’ printin’ anymore. Look at the way that capital ‘A’ is....” A stream of light floods the area inside Johnny’s fiddle. The phrase “ Antonius Stradivarius - 1791” is not as important to Johnny as the fact that it was his father’s fiddle.

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The memories which sing from Johnny’s fiddle are far more valuable to him than any amount of gold or silver; the land on which he, his wife, Lela, and his mother, Vady, make their home is far more precious as well. “ My father’s grandfather owned this land,” he declares with overwhelming pride. “ I had a half-brother and he and I owned this place here in partnership. He got killed over yonder on the railroad. That was in 19 and 32. So his part fell back to my father and he later give it to me.” Johnny’s voice suddenly drops as if he were lost in the past. “ I’ll never sell this place,” he insists. I’m gonna pick out a grandson an’ give it to him.” “ We got neighbors right up there,” he motions as he continues, “ they settled up there and set in to buy my property here and I wouldn’t sell it to ’em. I told ’em I was gonna give it to my grandson and fix it so he can never sell it.” At this point, Cummins turns his thoughts toward the Bible. “ You know, we don’t supposed to lust after what the other person has got—that’s wrong. . . Bible says so. Not lust after your neighbor’s wife, or his daughter, nor nothin’ they’ve got; no matter how bad you need it. And he (his neighbor) did. He set in here to buy this land regardless of whether I wanted to sell it or not.” In a country where congregational participation is highly prized, Appalachian people often differ by their nonsectarianism. In this respect, Johnny is typically Appalachian. “ I don’t belong to no church,” he states. “ Oh yea, I believe in Christ and all his disciples, but I don’t believe we got his picture, though. What we got is fictitious; somebody made it up. They got him drawed up with long hair, but it’s not true. Bible says it’s a shame for a man to have long hair; I read the Bible!” Johnny Cummins is ordinary yet unique. In his uniqueness lives an individual with a spirit longing to be free...free from his pain, free from his poverty, free from loneliness and desolation. The old car in the yard hasn’t been moved in over a year, yet the road leading to the old wood-framed house is well traveled. cap. January 1982

A b ove, CAP volunteer Lynn D aniels (CA P C L O SE U P, pp. 10-11) visits the home o f Vady Cummins. Left, Johhny pauses as he reflects on his family’s situation. Below, Johnny gives Lynn her first lesson in fiddling.

“ Hard work never hurt nobody” M. Elaine Dillhunt

When I ask why they so carefully distinguish their 6 head of cattle as yours and mine, Winfred answers, “ Because she buys hers and I buy mine.” He says it with emphasis as if to end any further discussion of the subject. But I ask, “ The money Elva earns from her chickens and the milk she sells is kept separate, then?” “ Oh no,” Winfred protests. “ We’re a team. Always have been. Never had no trouble like that over money.” But money hasn’t always been easy to come by for this happy mountain couple. As she prepares a dinner of fried eggs, cornbread, green beans and all the trimmings and he tends the fire in the wood burning stove, they tell of harder times. There were three or four young ones, it was a few days before Christmas, and there was no money. Winfred went out possum hunting. When he came back he had enough hides to buy presents for everyone. He got Elva a dress that year. “ Lavender,” she smiles with a proud glance at her husband. One wonders if her pride is in him for doing it or in herself for remembering. Winfred still hunts possum, coon and fox on his 166 acre farm and gets “ pretty good money” for their hides. Elva used to go hunting with him sometimes —carrying a baby on one hip. As much as possible, they’ve worked side by side - gardening, caring for the animals, making tobacco sticks. “ Me and the woman put some of this tobacco up,” he says showing a visitor a barn full of tobacco. When speaking directly to her he calls her maw and she calls him paw. The tobacco brings on 16

reminiscing about the days they made tobacco sticks for a little additional income. “ He’d hold the ax and I’d take the maul and hit it,” she remembers. When they had 1000 sticks made, he’d load them in a jolt wagon, he says, “ and me and a pair of mules would take off for Richmond.” He received $10.00 per hundred for the sticks. Sometimes he’d have to stay 3 days to a week until the buyers could unload his wagon. He slept in the wagon and paid the warehouse 25 cents a day for the parking space “ and all you could eat.” The sticks sell now for $22.00 per hundred Win fred notes shaking his head in disbelief. “ Tobacco sticks will last as long as you will if ya take care of ‘em,” he adds. JORDAN

according to Winfred VanWinkle who, at 83, is still working hard. VanWinkle has been living in the same holler for all of his 83 years. The earth, the weather, the animals, and the beauty of that holler have been good to him and he has reciprocated. Sixty-two years ago he brought his wife, Elva, to the holler at Cave Springs, Kentucky and the two have been a dynamic team ever since. She was born and reared in nearby Jackson County. The two reared ten children in that holler teaching them (by example) to love and respect the good earth; to work with it and allow it to give what it has to give. “ Two of our girls are farmin and four of our boys. And all of ‘em raise their eats,” Elva says proudly as she milks Pansy, one of her cows.

“ Taking care of” is obviously something both Elva and Winfred VanWinkle do well. In addition to their cattle, they have a hog, a coon dog, mules, horses, cats, chickens, and honey bees. This past year their farm produced 5,000 pounds of tobacco (no blue mold trouble), 350 bales of hay, three acres of corn (“ I don’t tend much corn,” he says in all seriousness), and more vegetables than they could keep track of. Elva canned 81 quarts of beans and 50 quarts of kraut. She didn’t keep track of the rest including jams, jellies, pumpkin and so on. She still does her canning with a big kettle over an open fire in the back yard. Children and grandchildren from In diana, Ohio, and other parts of Kentucky come to help with the harvesting but “ usually it’s all done” according to Elva before they arrive. One suspects that they come back more to get back in the environment that the VanWinkle’s have created in their holler, to commune with the earth, and to learn from these wise old people. CAP. The Mountain Spirit

by the CAP News Service

CRAVEN

around the project Rev. Beiting Studies New Territory for CAP MARTIN-In his new post as pastor of the Mar tin and Prestonsburg parishes in Floyd County, Ky., the Rev. Ralph Beiting, founder and President of the Christian Appalachian Project, remains a whirlwind of activity. On The Mountain Spirit’s first visit to Martin since Father’s arrival in late September, the editors were shown around the area and acquain ted with its many problems. “ Because of the recent coal boom, there is in credible new wealth here. But at the same time, great poverty and human suffering.” For in stance, Father Beiting noted, in the last few years, since school consolidation closed the schools in the remote areas, the high school dropout rate in Floyd County has increased to 53%, and youth unemployment approaches 30%. “ I have not yet decided the best way for CAP to make a direct contribution to this area. Perhaps an alternative Christian school. Perhaps something else. For the time being, Fm soaking up information, listening, looking, pondering, and CAP. praying.”

Outreach Ministries Offer Spiritual Counseling RENFRO VALLEY-Dorothy Williams, Direc tor of Outreach Ministries for the Family Life Center of Appalachia, reports the scheduling of a series of workshops designed to help people through the “ passages” of life. Called “ Life Transition Workshops,” the series is planned for March through September of 1982. Each one or two day session will focus on a crisis or conflict period: mid-life crisis, parents and teens, retirement, divorce, and death. January 1982

Dorothy explains life’s spiritual passages.

In addition, Dorothy has scheduled personal growth workshops for women, “ A Woman’s Worth,” “ The Middle Journey,” “ Discovering Your Spiritual Gifts,” and “ Creative Emotions.” May Irwin, Dr. Sarah Bivins, and Dianne Craven will assist Dorothy in these presentations, each of which is designed to provide a Christian perspec tive on the life of woman. Three “ Spiritual Life Retreats” complete Dorothy’s ambitious 1982 program. “ Life in the Spirit,” “ Healing Life’s Hurts,” and a “ Couples and Singles Retreat” will assist the participant to a richer Christian life. The Rev. Jack Morris, Direc tor of the Family Life Center, and Dr. Sara Bivins, will also conduct the retreats. Formerly a respected professor of American Literature at Kent State University, Dorothy Williams joined the Christian Appalachian Project two years ago, after a period of searching for specifically Christian work. As Director of Outreach Ministries, she also does home and hospital visits for families in transition and trauma (Dorothy calls it “ kitchen table coun seling” ), operates a crisis line, works in program development, and edits the Family Tree. cap. 17

JORDAN

Signing Grows in CAP Life Father Coughlin visits Ric CLIFFVIEW LODGE-Veteran CAP staffer Ric O’Connell, Coordinator of Deaf Handicapped Programs, has inaugurated several classes in hand signing for CAP employees and local residents. In a memo to the Project, Vice President Mike McLaughlin stressed that inasmuch as we have in creasing contact with the deaf in our daily work, some familiarity with basic sign language could be beneficial. During October and November, Ric has also been hosting the Rev. Thomas Coughlin, the first born-deaf person to be ordained a priest in the United States, and one of only four in the world. Ordained as a Trinitarian in 1977, Father Coughlin has been carrying on an international ministry to the deaf, emphasizing religious in struction.

Father Tom Coughlin

During his visit with CAP, Father Coughlin has offered his services to students at the Kentucky School for the Deaf, and has been teaching religious education classes. Also, as Executive Director of Mark Seven, a new foundation for the deaf, Father Coughlin has been studying CAP’S management and fund-raising in preparation for opening a deaf camp in New York state. Dynamic and energetic, Father Coughlin touches lives wherever he appears. Signing “ busy” to the interviewer, he said “ I wish I had more time to stay and study CAP. And the life in Kentucky is certainly different! ” cap.

Ric and Father Tom Coughlin discuss new ways to minister to the deaf handicapped.

The Mountain Spirit

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Planning Your Estate: The 1981 Tax Law and You By Ed Wardle, Director of Planned Giving

President Reagan’s hard-won victory over the budget and tax structure is now history. We wish him the best and trust it will have a positive effect. But how will the new law affect you? What does it mean, say, for your will? For your surviving spouse if you are married? For a family farm or business? For your contributions to church or charity? Naturally, you should consult an attorney or a tax expert for specific questions, but here are some ways I believe you can benefit: Federal Estate Taxes. In 1982 the minimum taxable estate increases from $175,625 to $225,000, and from there by steps up to $600,000 in 1987. This means that your estate must total this amount before any federal taxes are applied. Very few of us have an estate this size. Family-Owned Businesses or Farms. The in creased minimum taxable estate (above) will make it more possible for the family farm or business to pass from one generation to the next. There are also other new possibilities such as paying the tax over a period of years instead of in a lump sum. Charitable Contributions. The new law allows for “ above the line” charitable deductions even for those who cannot itemize on their tax returns. In 1982 a maximum $25 deduction is allowable, increasing yearly until 1986. Do people still need wills? The experts say, “ Absolutely.” After all, the main reason people need wills is to see that their property goes to the people and places they want it to. If you don’t have a will, state laws decide for you. They may well give your property to someone you wouldn’t like it to go to, or withhold it from someone who really needs it. Drafting your own will is tricky business. A

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simple will is one of the least expensive services your attorney performs and most experts strongly suggest that you consult with him on it. The people who have helped the Christian Ap palachian Project through their wills have done so, however, not because of the great tax benefits, but instead because they wished their help to con tinue beyond their lifetimes. Their gifts have enabled us to press forward in our work of helping the poor to help themselves in Appalachia. Without their generosity we couldn’t do it. Have you considered remembering our work in your will? If you are able to do so, those whom we serve will be grateful. We need and appreciate your help very much. For your free copy of “ 37 Things People ‘Know’ About Wills That Aren’t Really So,” please write to me, Ed Wardle, Director of Planned Giving, Christian Appalachian Project, 322 Crab Orchard Road, Lancaster, Ky. 40446. JORDAN

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The Mountain Spirit Christian Appalachian Project Lancaster, Kentucky 40446

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