The Mountain Spirit - May/June 1989

M a y -J u n e 1989

The Mountain Spirit T h e M agazine of the C h ristian A ppalachian Project

T h e M o u n ta in Spirit:

The Magazine o f the Christian Appalachian Project

May-June 1989

Vol. VIII, No. 3

Contents Features 4

This is My Choice by M E K Domestic violence is a big problem for families in the m ountains. In the nearly 10 years that C A P has been involved in spouse abuse shelters, one of the biggest lessons we have learned is that abused spouses m ust learn that they can and m ust choose to take control of their situation. H ere, a resident of Bethany H ouse tells about her jo u rn ey as she m ade those choices.

The Magoffin Outreach Center, p.19

Teri Mehler, p.14

12 Jobs Referral Plus by the C A P News Service The Cooperative Parish of G arrard C ounty is working to provide jobs and education to county residents.

19 The Magoffin Outreach Center by M argaret Gabriel In A ugust of 1988 C A P added M agoffin C ounty to its service area. Since then, C A P workers have become involved with adult education, a used clothing store, and several other outreach program s.

22 River City Run by G arry Barker V ernon W atts makes his first trip to the big city of M aysville, K entucky, to help his daddy sell the y e a r’s tobacco crop.

Departments 3 From Our Founder 9 Around the Project 14 The CAP Closeup 21 Random Thoughts

GED study, p.12

The May-June Theme In its seventeen county service area, the C hristian A ppalachian Project operates over 75 h u m a n and econom ic developm ent program s. Some of the m ost crucial of these program s are those w hich are grouped together and referred to as “ o u tre a c h ” p ro g ram s— em ergency assistance, C hristm as basket distribution, crisis in terv en tio n , to nam e a few. In this issue, we explore some of these aspects of C A P ’s w ork, including the new outreach center in M agoffin C o u n ty . O n the C O V E R , two m em bers of the M iller family from M agoffin C ounty, w ith th eir friend “ M egan T h e D o g ” (photo by G abriel). O n the B A C K C O V E R a m eans of conveyence in E astern K entucky (photo by B arker).

P ublished by the C hristian A ppalachian P roject. Editor:M argaret G abriel. A d visory Board: F ather R alph W . B eiting, M ike M cL au g h lin , Leslie B. L arsen, Bill Begley, R andolph Jo rd a n , J u n e W id m an , K athleen Ford Leavell, P atricia M iracle P adgett. G raphics Coordinator: E lizabeth R eed M iller. C irculation: L in d a C u rtis G rider. The Mountain Spirit is published six tim es a year. T h e annual subscription price is $5.00. Subscriptions and o th er correspondence should be sent to The Mountain Spirit, C h ristian A ppalachian P roject, 322 C rab O rch ard R o ad , L ancaster, K entucky 40446. C opy rig h t, 1989, the C hristian A ppalachian P roject, Inc. All rights reserved. M em b er, C atholic Press A ssociation. T h e C h ristian A ppalachian P roject is a non-profit C h ristian service organization op eratin g th ro u g h o u t E astern K entucky. T he project operates on the philosophy th at “ helping people help them selves” is the best approach to A ppalachian poverty.

From Our Founder Recently I had a rare opportunity to sit on my back porch and enjoy the view of the mountains in the distance. Before long I felt moved to reach for my Bible. The section that opened up for me was St. James’ letter to his fellow Christians, that read, “The right thing to do is to keep the supreme law of scripture, you must love your neighbor as yourself, but as soon as you make distinctions between classes of people you are commit­ ting sin. If one of the brothers or one of the sisters is in need of clothes and has not enough food to live on and you say, ‘I wish you well; keep yourself warm and eat plenty,’ without giving them these bare necessities of life, then what good is that?” Holy Scripture is wonderful only to the extent that we put it into prac­ tice. The question I have to ask myself is “Do I reach out and touch my brothers and sisters who are in need with material help and com­ fort?” The people who make up the Christian Appalachian Project, and I, have placed as our first objective to not only give our personal material aid to the poor, but to rally the support of our fellow citizens, enabling us to support the too-often forgotten poor of Appalachia. We do this not as a humanitarian move, but as a Judeo-Christian commit­ ment to a higher calling whose author is no one less than God Himself. Charity is not a nice thing to do; it is a responsibility, an obligation. The early Christian community’s total commitment to the poor came not from the fact that they had wealth or more resources than those in need. The early Christians were poor themselves. They gave because they knew that their Father asked this of them. In a materialistic, secular society it is important that we emphasize M ay-June 1989

F ath er R alp h B e itin g .

the reason we give. Christianity w ith o u t sh arin g , w ith o u t brotherhood and sisterhood, based on spiritual values is a hollow shell that will not endure. We of the CAP family let our friends in Appalachia know that we love them because of Christ. We use our resources to help them because that is what our Father expects us to do for our brothers and sisters. We have another dream that is important to us. We want to be of help to our friends in such a way that their problems can cease and that, in turn, they become helpers to others in need. Too often the poor are helped, but they will remain forever in the poverty class. Welfare becomes a way of life. They become frightened of taking a chance that may not suc­ ceed. They could get hurt by trying to help themselves. Our aid goes beyond the gift itself. We seek to enrich the mind and imagination of the people. Our ultimate goal is not only material assistance to one in need, but to encourage that in­ dividual to be independent. We want him or her to be in control of the future. Once that goal has been

realized, we want that individual to seek others who need to be touched with love. They are changed from recipients of aid to leaders. In a such a process, a widening circle of chari­ ty takes place that will continue to expand until a solution becomes a reality. At last I put my Bible down and quietly looked out over the moun­ tains again. Hidden in their valleys are many of God’s children-my brothers and sisters. Many of them shall never be free, never grow to their full potential, never be able to help others. Poverty shall imprison and weaken them. But because St. James writes so well, I am reminded of He who came to give us all Good News, who came to set us free. I know that I have to offer part of my gifts, always seeking to reach out and touch my mountain friends. I know when I do this I reach the heavens, and it is from the heavens that our solution and hope comes. I ask you to reach out and touch our friends knowing full well that in so doing you touch the face of God. 3

I guess the Lord was waiting fo r me to say “I ’m ready. ”

This Is My Choice by M EK

I t ’s hard to believe that I’m sitting in this lovely room. My two little girls are fast asleep. I look around and see wall-to-wall carpeting, freshly painted walls and real maple furniture. The next room is a large bath with a white tile floor, a flushing commode, hot and cold running water and a four-roll pack of toilet tissue in the vanity. So what is so special about freshly painted walls, flushing commodes and toilet paper? When you grow up having all these things, and then they’re gone for a long, long time, and suddenly they’re back again, they are no longer “things;” I like to call them “blessings.” I grew up a very independent, and often rebellious, female. I did what I wanted to do regardless of any unpleasant consequences. My material needs were always met very comfortably and I seldom had to do without the things I wanted. I was spoiled. I met my husband, Frank, in the latter part of 1980, and it only took a moment for me to fall in 4

love. He was tall, had big brown eyes and was built like a mountain. I loved his hands. They were so strong they could pick up the front end of a car, and so tender they could melt my heart with a mere touch. He became a god-like figure to me and my love for him turned to worship. It was very easy, in just a few short months, for me to promise to love, honor and obey. I had been married before and had three daughters who were living with their father at the time I married Frank. We didn’t have very much money, but he promised we would do everything possible to make a home for all of us. I believed him. Time went by very quickly. Within two years, I had two more little girls, Amanda and Jenny Kay. They looked a lot like Frank and I was proud to be the woman who gave him children. But I was get­ ting very anxious for the other three girls to join us. Only then would I feel complete. It was difThe Mountain Spirit

ficult to understand, but I knew Frank was mak­ ing a lot of excuses why the other girls shouldn’t be with us yet. In fact, I was beginning to notice a lot of things I wasn’t able to understand. Frank grew up in the mountains of Eastern Ken­ tucky, and the people here are proud and their heritage strong. But years ago, when the industrial age began, the people of Appalachia were left behind and they were never able to catch up with the fast changing world. So these families are stricken with poverty, poor education, and destruction in their family values. Frank came from such a family and I knew that when I mar­ ried him. But I felt sure that with encouragement and help from me, he would be able to adjust to a new world filled with bills, husband and wife part­ nerships and working women. It wasn’t that easy. In 1983, Frank was so discouraged with life that he started drinking again. He was an alcoholic but he hadn’t had a drink in years. He only had a ninth grade education; but he did have a high school equivalency diploma. That didn’t seem to help him when it came to work. He started going from one job to another, moving us from one place to another, until he finally gave up and drank. I tried to explain to him that if the two of us would work together, we would be able to afford to meet our expenses. But a working wife meant stepping over the line of obedience and that was a threat to his authority. He laid down the law and put a stop to the idea of me going to work. We started selling items out of our home to live on. I knew it was all “material things,” but it was all we had. We lived in places just until the rent was due again and then walked out owing our landlords, utility companies and a friend here or there until there were no more friends. We got into exhausting arguments and Frank would call me vicious names and constantly accuse me of hav­ ing a lover. Our word games led to pushing and shoving and ultimately physical violence. Our oldest daughter was four years old at the time and she, too, became a victim of severe punishments. It was 1986, and I hadn’t seen my other three girls in six years. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold on. M ay-June 1989

My oldest daughter, Christen, was fifteen and begging her father to come and live with me. He contacted us and made arrangements for her to come to our house to stay. My goodness, what a joyous reunion! She was only a nine year old little girl the last time I saw her and now she was a glorious young woman. I held her in my arms and wept as I begged her to forgive me. I’m so thankful that the Lord made children such forgiv­ ing little creatures. Cristen and I became friends very quickly. Although she missed her other sisters very much, she fell in love with Amanda and Jen­ ny Kay. Cristen hated the way Frank treated Amanda and me. And Frank hated Cristen just for being there. Two weeks after her arrival, all hell broke loose and Frank left us all. This was the third time we broke up. I was sure it would be the last. But a few months after that, Frank was involved in an accident that left him with bad head injuries. Out of moral obligation as his wife, I took him back to care for him. The doctors told Frank that if he didn’t stop drinking he would die. He apparently didn’t care. I was working in an office where a few men work­ ed and that was more than Frank could stand. We fought constantly. I began to realize that my life, and the lives of my children, was under the com­ plete control of alcohol and we didn’t even drink. In the spring of 1987, Cristen had all she could take of Frank and me and went back to her father. I quit my job in hopes of helping our relationship. Frank took the two little ones and me back to his native land, Eastern Kentucky, and we moved into a four-room shack with no bathroom, no water and no electricity. We had no money for little things, like toothpaste, soap, aspirin, toilet paper or shampoo. But God help us if we didn’t have beer. We ate pinto beans and potatoes ’til they ran out our ears. It took some time, but Frank started drawing a check from SSI. I got a welfare check on the girls and we received food stamps. Frank learned quite quickly how to “liquidate” the food stamps, and he turned food stamp after food stamp into beer after beer. Our fighting was frequent and vicious. I tried once to talk to him about letting me go back 5

to school. He laughed at me, said I was stupid, and the only reason I wanted to go back to school was to find another man. I told him plainly that if he didn’t stop drinking immediately, I would leave him for good. He laughed again, a scornful laugh, and said nobody would even have me, so where would I go if I left? I knew deep down that I had only made a threat. Frank was right. Our relation­ ship had destroyed the feelings of all my family and friends and I really didn’t have anyone left that I could turn to. Frank knew it, and perhaps he had even planned it that way. With the checks we received we were able to af­ ford to pay rent again. This time we moved to Southern Kentucky near Frank’s brother. He liked to drink, too, so they spent all their time together. The girls and I sat at home endlessly, waiting and hoping for a change. When Frank was there we would see who could yell the loudest and hit the hardest. Our fighting must have attracted some at­ tention because Social Services paid us a visit. Frank wasn’t at home when they came and I was really scared. I found out right off that they weren’t there to hurt, they were there to help. This dear, sweet lady took one look at me and knew I needed help very badly. She told me that the girls and I didn’t have to live like that. She told me about shelters for women and children who are threatened with abuse. I had no idea that such places even existed. Left with no choice, and very frightened, the girls and I were taken to a place called Bethany House, a spouse abuse shelter in Somerset. I didn’t realize it at the time, but when I stepped through the front door of this haven, I had indeed taken my first step up. For it was at Bethany House that I met the beginning of the most wonderful group of people I have ever known. One nice thing about hitting rock bottom is there’s no place left to go but up. It was a new year, 1988, and I desperately needed some drastic changes. Starting our new lives at Bethany House was a wonderful way to start a new year. I met with a member of the staff who listened to my story. I told her I was afraid to go back and she said I didn’t have to; that I could do anything I wanted. I hadn’t heard those words in years. She went on to tell me how people live like Frank and 6

me because they think they have to. The purpose of the Christian Appalachian Project’s spouse abuse center (and other shelters like it), is to allow women the freedom of choice. Once they make their choice, then the staff members help them to reach their goals. Even if a woman chooses to go back home, she is offered free counseling to help her cope with situations, should they arise. And the counseling services are extended to the spouse if he is willing. I met several women (residents) at the center who were in situations very similar to mine. It was comforting to know I wasn’t the only woman who put up with abuse; although I certain­ ly wouldn’t have wished it on anyone. These women became a real blessing to me. They were like family. Amanda and Jenny Kay made themselves right at home playing with other children who were also victims of abuse. Late at night when the kids were all asleep, the ladies gathered around the coffee pot and shared story after story. It was like a private group therapy. It’s amazing the number of families who suffer the ill­ ness of destruction. The sad part is, they don’t have to. My first few days were filled with a lot of think­ ing; mostly about what Frank must be thinking. I left without even leaving a note. I didn’t think he cared. I also learned what Bethany House is there for. The shelter is a division of CAP. Founded on Christianity, Bethany House is family oriented, one of three like shelters in Kentucky. CAP employs professional counselors who counsel once a week with each resident. My counselor helped me to make the changes I wanted, once I expressed the desire. The full-time employees at Bethany House were there for me 24 hours a day. They add such care and love to their professions that soon I began to feel that my life does count for something, and that I, too, am “special” in my own way. I told them one day that I hated the way I’d been living. I said that I had not been me in years; just the product of what Frank had made me. They quickly reminded me that I am the pro­ duct of my own choices. I didn’t like hearing that, but it helped me realize that I could change and start making good choices. In just two and a half weeks, I gained enough confidence in myself to tell Frank —not in person, of course. I didn’t have that much self-confidence yet. I wrote him a letter The Mountain Spirit

and told him that I was through with our marriage and ready to start a life without him. I gave him a post office box number where he could write and a phone number he could call if he wanted. Three days later he called. He was very sweet and hum­ ble, and he asked me to bring our girls and come back home. He promised he would quit drinking, get a job, go to church, get counseling, and he would never, ever hit us again. I told him I would think about it. At the end of my third week at Bethany House, my decisions were made. I told a staff member I wanted to go back to school —not to find a man —but to be a computer operator. (Actually, I want to be a computer scientist, but I felt that was being a little pushy.) She took me to the vocational school where I tested in math and english. I did very well. My scores were equivalent to first year college. That’s surprising, considering I graduated from high school 21 years ago. That same night Frank called again. I was excited about going back to school and I wanted to share it with him. He was very angry. He told me that a woman’s place is in the home. He then ordered me to leave the shelter. I hung up, knowing hurtfully that Frank and I would never make it. I was very disturbed by this phone call. I felt that the past seven years had been such a useless waste. Then suddenly, I longed to be with my missing children. It was the first time since I had been at Bethany House that I felt sadly depressed. The following day, I met with Tom, my counselor. I told him what I was feeling and how much I hated Frank and wished he would die. Tom said that my feelings were okay, that it’s not uncommon to hate this much. Then he explained to me that when a marriage breaks up, there are two stories, and each story is equally painful. I thought about the pain Frank must be going through. He’s lost everything: his wife, his kids, and his home. Here I am starting a whole new life, and Frank is still looking at his life through the bottom of a bottle. That night the residents had a Bible study. The ladies shared testimonies of how they were letting the Lord have control over their lives. I envied them. I was brought up in a fine Christian home. My parents are Godly people who live their lives according to God’s Word. But I was rebellious and M ay-June 1989

sinful. And now, just when I need Him most, I was afraid to pray. I was afraid that if I gave God control of my life, He would lead me back home. But at the prayer meeting the Lord made me realize this: “He never looks back.” After our meeting I went to my room and got alone with God. I told Him that I was ready to serve Him; to go where He wanted to go, and to do what He wanted me to do. I went to sleep with a precious peace. On the following Friday, a miracle took place in my life. (I guess the Lord was waiting for me to say, “I’m ready.”) Tom came to see me. He asked me how I felt about going to school and living an independent life. I expressed my excitement and told him I wasn’t afraid any more. He asked me if I really wanted to go to vocational school, or would I rather go to college. I laughed. I told him, “I’m 38 years old. How can I go to college?” He said, “I’ll show you.” He told me about a program that CAP started calling the “post program.” He said that it’s designed to aid a woman who is going through a transitional period of regaining control of her life. He said that CAP has a facility called Family Life Services and the children and I could live there and I can attend school to brush up on my studies. Then I can take the college entrance exam and once I’m accepted, I can start college in the fall. “After all,” he said, “wouldn’t you rather have a bachelor’s degree in computer science than a certificate in computer programming?” I sat there in total amazement, with my mouth hanging wide open. I wondered to myself if this man was real. I don’t think so. I truly believe he’s an angel the Lord sent from Heaven. Tuesday I was taken to the Family Life Services to meet the staff and apply for the post program. I was delighted with the accommodations and felt sure that Amanda and Jenny would love it. The post program is relatively new, and I felt honored to enter it. I was told three days later that I had been accepted. My mind went back to Frank. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him or not. But Frank seemed to answer that for me when he called again. He was not angry this time. He was humble again. He said that if I would come home, he would make the great sacrifice of giving up his brother just for me. I told him not to give up anything for me for it 7

would only be a matter of time until he would hate me for it; just as I hated him over three little girls so long left behind, and my parents who I was too ashamed to call. He said that all of this was because of alcohol, that he was only abusive when he was drinking. I got impatient with that and told him that what he said was a cop-out. I said, “Drunk or sober, you consider me your posses­ sion, not a person. Drunk or sober, you wouldn’t allow me any freedom, friends, or family. And drunk or sober you insisted on strict obedience. No Frank, you are not abusive because you drink. You drink because you’re abusive.” He told me through his tears that he knew he could never change the past but he swore he would never make us relive a moment of it. I replied with, “Your mere presence would be a constant reminder.” He then cried pitifully, “No matter what you think, I have loved you and our babies more than you will ever know.” My next question was, “If you loved us so much, then why are we in an abuse shelter?” His last plea was, “I’d give anything to hear you say you love me one more time.” But I couldn’t so I hung up. I haven’t spoken to Frank since; however, I did get one more letter, and in it he said he would give me what I want and leave me alone. At Bethany House I was helped in making new choices that enabled me to feel confident, in­ dependent and reliable. The staff assisted me in gaining complete control of my life. However, they didn’t prepare me for what was to take place next —I had to say “good-bye.” The day I left this home of ours was day of many tears. Even though I knew my new life was waiting, it was very painful to say good-by to these God-sent people. Each individual, whether a staff member or resi­ dent, played a very important part in helping me make my choices for a better life. And each precious person has a very special place in my heart. The trip to our new home took a little while so I had plenty of time to worry about how we would fit in. The lady that drove us kept assuring me that we would do just fine. She reminded me that in only two months at Bethany House I had found new friends, and many more awaited at Family Life Services. She was right. I arrived here on a Friday. It only took the 8

weekend to feel at home once again. The staff of Family Life Services was just as warm and caring as the friends I was missing so badly. The residents are helpful and kind. The offices of the CAP counselors are located in this facility, so I see Tom quite frequently. Liz, the program manager of Family Life Services, has assisted me in every way possible to prepare for college. We visited the campus of Eastern Kentucky University and pick­ ed up a mirage of forms to be completed for ad­ missions, family housing and financial aid. I enrolled in the Family Life Center School so I can be tutored in sujects related to my college course. Amanda is in kindergarten and Jenny attends child development. Our lives are full and rich. When I’m in counseling with Tom, we talk about how far I’ve come from a life going nowhere. I study, visit with my new “family,” take in an occa­ sional movie, and watch my children grow. They ask me about Daddy now and then, and they pray for him. The other day I called my Mom. She rejoiced with me at what was taking place in my life. She had been quite ill, but I thank the Lord for keep­ ing my loved ones safe so I can show them that I choose not to live like that anymore. Perhaps someday soon, I’ll be united with all of my loved ones, and I can see my little girls once more. Soon my dreams of being a computer scientist will begin to come true. While I’m in college, I plan to take some courses in psycology, so when I finish school, I can come back and work as a volunteer among the many, many uninformed families who are living in abusive conditions because they don’t know they have a choice. I want to tell them they do. So now you know why I’m sitting in this lovely room and things like good food, running water, and warm beds are blessings to me. I look back on the past seven years, and instead of hating it, I think of it as a learning experience. I came out of this a much better person. I can never re-pay all that has been given to me. And I can never give enough thanks to Bethany House, Family Life Services, CAP, and my friend, Tom. But I owe my all to the Lord Jesus who allowed the most wonderful people in the world to come into my life. The Mountain Spirit

Around the Project

by the CAP News Service

F ather B eitin g R eceives B rotherhood A w ard LEX IN G TO N -The Bluegrass Chapter of the National Conference of Christians and Jews honored Father Ralph W. Beiting at their an­ nual Brotherhood Awards Banquet on March 2, 1989, “for outstanding leadership in fostering amity, justice and cooperation among the people of Central Kentucky . . . ” Father Beiting’s family and friends, including over thirty CAP employees, former volunteers and board members were among the assembly of over 800 people. “Whenever I see Father Beiting in a setting like this one, and being honored for his work, I get fired up all over again,” said Kathleen Ford Leavell, who began working for CAP as a volunteer in 1976 and to­ day works as a teacher in its homebound program for handicapped pre-schoolers. The presentation read “The Na­ tional Conference of Christians and Jews, in grateful appreciation, is honored to present this citation to Monsignor Ralph W. Beiting in recognition of your untiring efforts for the people of Appalachia; for your founding and guidance of the Christian Appalachian Project, an o rg an izatio n providing vital economic and social services to in­ dividuals regardless of race, creed or ethnic background; for your deep concern for the total needs of each person who practices his faith enlivened by a firm conviction that the caring of a few can make a dif­ ference in the lives of many. We honor you this day. May the deeds of your life guide others to do likewise.” In accepting the honor, Father Beiting said that he did not deserve the award, that during the nearly 40 years that he has worked in the mountains, he has been honored many times over. M ay-June 1989

B en D . F iste r, an N C C J b o a rd m em b er, m akes th e ir B ro th erh o o d A w ard to C A P ’s fo u n d er, F a th e r R alp h W . B eitin g on M arch 2, 1989.

He recalled Jake and Maude Jacobson, who ran a furniture store in Lancaster, when he first arrived in 1950. “They made it possible for me not only to have a bed and a chair and a sofa. This Jewish fami­ ly, not fully loved themselves in this town, gave me their friendship, as we would sit and talk about things old and new. They gave me one of the best awards a man could have.” He recalled meeting a preacher on a day when he was street preaching. Father Beiting asked the old man for permission to plug in his amplification system. He demurred, saying that he was not sure that he could allow that particular brand of religion to be proclaimed by the use of his electricity. Father Beiting ask­ ed the man “if I was thirsty, would you give me a cup of water?” The preacher replied, “You know I’d have to give that cup of water, because Jesus told me I had to.” “Well, then,” Father Beiting said, “all I’m asking you for is a plug full of electricity.” Although he still wasn’t sure, the

preacher couldn’t very well argue with that logic, Father Beiting said. Later, he said that he was glad that he had let him speak because “you said nice things about Jesus.” “Later I learned that when the old man died, he told his wife, ‘when that preacher man comes back, make sure he has electricity.’ “The award he gave me was that he made me understand that we would overcome all of our dif­ ferences and there would be peace. “All of the people who make up the Christian Appalachian Project, and those who are simply Ap­ palachian have taken me into their hearts: the kids in our child develop­ ment centers, the older folks sitting on their porches, the families for whom we’ve been able to build houses. They shake my hand, they thank me. I’ve had a great reward. “I don’t deserve this award, but I do thank you. I pray that all can be one in God, and that together we can give him honor and joy that will never disappear.” 9

around the project . . . continued Each gardener was asked to prepare and bring along a favorite Bible verse, a prayer, a gardening tip and a recipe. “It was a nice gathering,” said Keith Gilbertson, the program manager. “People were very anxious to get together and share.” The seed program in 1989 has ex­ tended into 20 counties and has pro­ vided seed, seed potatoes and fer­ tilizer for approximately 1800 gardens.

Father B e itin g T estifies For H ou se Subcom m ittee

School-O n-W heels G raduate R ecogn ized At State L u n ch eon FRANKFORT-CAP School-OnWheels student Sara Charlene Hall was recognized as one of thirteen outstanding adult students at an ap­ preciation luncheon at the Gover­ nor’s Mansion on March 14, 1989. CAP was recognized for assisting over 350 people since 1986 to study for and obtain high school equivalency diplomas. The students were recognized by Kentucky’s first lady, Martha Wilkinson, who has devoted much of her time to establishing “Martha’s Army,” a network of people across Kentucky that includes adults who are studying for the GED and the volunteers who are teaching them. “Everyone has a place in this ar­ my, every volunteer and every stu­ dent. And one thing that we want people to know is that it’s fun to be in the army, that there’s nothing bet­ ter than success, is there Sara?” Mrs. Wilkinson asked CAP’S representative. 10

Sara gave the GED testimonial for all of the students, speaking from her wheelchair in front of the speakers’ poduim. She referred to passing her GED exam as an “im­ possible dream,” and recognized several people who were instrumen­ tal in her success, especially her teacher, Kaye Cameron. “I feel important now,” Sara said. “People are coming to my home to learn. Can you believe that? It’s true. “I’m so proud, that I feel like a million dollars,” Sara said, as the group burst into applause and honored her with a standing ova­ tion.

G arden Program B egins Spring P la n tin g Although the drought of 1988 made some cutbacks necessary in CAP’S gardening program, the growing season got off to a very good start in mid-March, when CA P’S garden crew and the gardeners gathered for a class and sharing session about planting.

W A SHIN G TON , D C -C A P founder Father Ralph W. Beiting was invited to testify before the House Subcommitte on Postal Operations and Services and tell how a possible increase of at least 40% in postal rates would affect charities such as CAP. According to Bill Begley, CAP’s vice president of development, each of the last several budgets submitted by the executive branch to the Con­ gress has recommended the elimina­ tion of the federal subsidy for non­ profit postage. This subsidy enables CAP and thousands of charities like it, to mail requests for donations and important education material about conditions in the area and the programs that work to change these conditions. Father Beiting was introduced to the subcommittee by Congressman Harold D. Rogers, representative from the Fifth District of Kentucky, who represents nine of the counties of CAP’s area. Recognized as an authority on the effects of the loss of the postal sub­ sidy to charitable groups because of the 30-plus years that he has been in­ volved in such work, Father Beiting told the committee how the signifi­ cant increase in postal rates would drive up the cost of fund raising, and drove the point home, telling how that increase translates into a continued on page 11 The Mountain Spirit

around the project . . . continued decrease in services to the people of Appalachia. Father Beiting told the committee about Dennis Morgan (see The M ountain Spirit, NovemberDecember, 1988), of Floyd County. When Dennis met several CAP volunteers, he was living in a camper, a step up from the cave in which he had been living, but still cold in the winter and leaky when it rained. “Because of the hard work and generosity of several people and groups, we were able to build Den­ nis a new home,” Father Beiting told the committee. “When I was talking to him one day, I asked him what he would want in his new home. He said ‘would it be too much to ask for water? I want to be able to take a bath.’” In closing, Father Beiting told the committee that to continue the sub­ sidy for non-profit postage “may be one of the best investments Con­ gress makes each year to improve the quality of life for a broad cross section of citizens.”

P arents-A re-T eachers Sponsors R etreat LEE CO UN TY -Parents-A reTeachers, CAP’S homebound pro­ gram for handicapped p re ­ schoolers, sponsored a retreat in mid-April for parents of children who are involved in the program. “Day of Healing, Days of Joy” was held at Cathedral Domain, a retreat center operated by the Episcopalian Church in Kentucky. The two day period of reflection ex­ amined using God’s healing power to recover from the grief of having a handicapped child and how one can use that strength to cope with the stress of parenting a handicapped child. Although there was a registration fee for the retreat, Peggy Cook, manager of Parents-Are-Teachers, said that no one was denied par­ M ay-June 1989

ticipation because of an inability to meet the cost. “We made it clear that financial aid was available.” On the first night of the workshop, Paulette Logsdon, mother of a seven-year-old child with cerebral palsy spoke about the importance of a positive attitude for the parents of handicapped children. The talk was followed by evening worship and a social time. Peggy and the P arents-A reTeachers staff planned the social time in order to give the parents a chance to meet, exchange stories and interact. On Saturday, after sessions which included guided meditation, journal writing and group discussion, the parents had dinner and evening wor­ ship, then enjoyed a surprise party that was sponsored by the youth board of the Episcopal Diocese of Lexington, and the teens of Trinity Church, Danville, complete with balloons, music, dancing, and food provided by the CAPrice Industries catering service. P aren ts-A re-T ea ch ers s ta ff Kathleen Ford Leavell, Judy Brooks, and Pam Ptasnik attended the retreat, playing leadership roles, along with several presenters from outside CAP, including Father Jim Ryan and his wife, Jean Ford. Father Ryan is the rector of St. Timothy’s at Barnes Mountain, Kentucky (see The Mountain Spirit, November-December, 1985). The program was designed to give parents some time away from their children, so staff arranged for the children’s care at the Rainbow Respite Care Home in Renfro Valley at CAP’S Family Life Center. “No one else that we know of has sponsored anything quite like this,” Peggy said. “That’s one reason we decided to do it. CAP isn’t a public agency, so we have a lot more freedom to address religious issues and attitudes. Our whole staff felt this was a ministry we needed to of­ fer our parents.”

W hat Y ou D o n ’t K n o w A b ou t W ills C an H u rt Y our H e irs . . . F in d O ut W h y. R eq u est Y our F ree C o p y Of:

M u ch of w hat you know about wills m ay be m isinfor­ m a tio n th a t h a s b e e n floating aro u n d for years. If you think, for exam ple, that wills are p rim arily for rich people, or the elderly, you m ay be the victim of a com ­ m on m isconception. T h e helpful booklet offered here will explain how your will can save yo u r heirs from costly delays and confusion. Send for your copy today. C lip and M ail

C hristian Appalachian Project 322 C rab O rchard R oad Lancaster, K entucky 40446 Please send without obligation, your booklet, “ 37 Things People ‘K now ’ A bout Wills T hat A ren ’t Really S o .” N am e ________________________ Address________________________ City _____________________ _ _ _ S tate ___________Z ip ___________

11

N ews of O ur Neighb ors

Jobs R eferral Plus

by the CAP News Service S h aro n G rah am was h ire d b y th e Garrard County News th ro u g h th e Jo b s R eferral P lu s p ro g ram .

I n 1986 21.2% of the population of Garrard County lived in poverty, as compared to 18.2 % in the state of Kentucky and 13.6% in the United States. This fact and the fact that the per capita personal income in the county is $9886, painted the picture that there was work to be done supply­ ing the jobs residents need to reduce poverty in the county. Like many counties in rural Kentucky, Garrard County has much to offer its residents: a slow­ paced way of life, with the time to enjoy finer things —family, good friends, God’s nature. Un­ fortunately, as the world loses its appreciation of these qualities of life, the businesses and industries that people need to provide work for themselves seem to be choosing nearby larger communities to establish themselves. This has made job oppor­ tunities scarce in Lancaster, the county seat. In 1987, Ben Poage, director of Kentucky Appalachian Ministries, suggest to Reverend Steve Stout, pastor of the Lancaster Christian Church, that Garrard County would be a good pilot area for a “cooperative parish.” There are four Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) congregations in the county. “Three of them are pastored by seminary students, so the congregations felt limited in their possibility for mission,” Reverend Stout said. “So Ben helped us start to organize. He invited Dorsey Walker from northwest Alabama to come in and 12

speak to us about parishes working together. He brought slides of the work they’re doing, and helped us to see the possibilities. Then, we surveyed the Christian Church congregations and asked them to assess the needs of the county. Jobs ministry surfaced as a real need.” Out of the needs assessment grew the concept of a program that would work to connect businesses in the county with people who were in need of work. The idea took hold and in June of 1988, the Jobs Referral Plus office opened its doors. Lana LeMay, a full-time worker for Cooperative Parish, acts as the liaison between employers and potential employees. Although some of the jobs that Lana has referred are regular, full-time jobs, many more are part-time or temporary. “People looking for jobs can call us and fill out a form with job referral information.” Lana said. “I keep it here on file. If somebody has a job or needs some workers, temporarily or per­ manently, they call in and I try to get them together.” Lana has observed that many people who register with Jobs Referral Plus not only need jobs, but they need job skills and help knowing how to look for and get a job. “We’ve talked about getting classes together on how to dress when you go to file an application,” she said. Through the Jobs Referral Plus office, Lana The Mountain Spirit

has placed twenty people in jobs, both full and part time. “It doesn’t sound like that many in the amount of time,” Lana admitted, “but Garrard C ou n ty d o e sn ’t have th a t m any jo b opportunities.” Lana points out that the program is called Jobs Referral Plus because when Cooperative Parish began to investigate the job opportunities for peo­ ple in the county, they discovered that more and more possibilities would be open to people with a high school education, or its equivalent. “Rather than just finding jobs for people, they do like to branch out into other things.” Lana said, “and GED is one of them.” In February, Cooperative Parish began a pro­ gram that is assisting Garrard Countians to study for the high school equivalency diploma. “Even­ tually, we’d like to get about three programs going, but there was more interest in the Paint Lick area, so we started down there. The elderly people who are involved in Cooperative Parish had bake sales to raise money needed for textbooks, and we were trying to get leaders from the various churches, but we just couldn’t. We found that we needed somebody who knew more about it. So that’s when we got in touch with CAP, who agreed that they would lead it and we would fund it. We went to the school board, and they said if it was all right with the principal, we could use the Paint Lick Elemen­ tary School. She’s been wonderful. We got the place, and set up the day and CAP’s staff ordered the materials. They have all the know-how,” Lana laughed,“and that suits us fine.” The Mountain Spirit talked to Lana several hours before the first meeting of the GED class in Paint Lick. At that time, she reported that she had enrolled about 12 people, and several others had had a few calls asking the particulars about the class. Figuring that they were being wildly op­

timistic, CAP staff people brought forty SchoolOn-Wheels application forms. Fifty-four people arrived at Paint Lick Elementary School that night and since then, enrollment has increased to over 100. Lana went on to say that most of the people who are enrolled in the classes in Paint Lick are from the eastern part of the county, and that she believes similar programs are needed in other areas. “There was a couple in here the other day looking for work, then they asked about the GED. I wondered if the expenses of traveling to Paint Lick would be too much for them, considering they were out of work.” The classes in Paint Lick have moved CAP along in a direction that many of its programs seem to be taking. The concept of a GED class was originated by people in the county who knew there was a great need, then invited CAP to become in­ volved. Despite CAP’s involvement, it is a pro­ gram of Cooperative Parish. As Lana said, Cooperative Parish has provided many of the resources, and CAP has provided the know-how. The members of Cooperative Parish believe that GED study, leading to a better educated workforce, will be instrumental in attracting business and industry to the county. Progress is being made. Figures from the census in 1980 reflected that only 44.5 % of the people over the age of 25 in Garrard County had completed high school. According to Kenton Lear, director of federal and adult programs for the Garrard Coun­ ty schools, the 1988 statistics might show a varia­ tion of a couple of percentage points. “But, by the end of this calendar year will have awarded over 200 GED certificates in the county. We’re going to see some dramatic changes in those number in the next couple of years.”

G ary E ld rid ge, m anager o f the FLC S ch ool, assists a stu d en t at the G E D class in P a in t L ick .

M ay-June 1989

13

The C A P Closeup

A Q uest For Service: The Real Life Adventures of Teri Mehler Story and photos by Randolph Jordan

IN ^any of us like to read adventure novels, stories about men and women who throw caution to the wind to find out what’s on the other side of the mountain. Often, the characters portrayed in these stories are fictitious—the product of the author’s im­ agination. If they are real, these adventurous in­ dividuals are lauded with praise and honor. We shower them with ticker-tape as they parade down New York’s Fifth Avenue or we act out their lives in full color through a “made for TV” movie. Sometimes we don’t have to read novels to ex­ perience adventure; sometimes, we need only look next door. The Mountain Spirit only needed to look as far as the CAP Child Development Center in Berea, to find resident adventurer Teri Mehler. Teri came to CAP in 1985, but her life before then reads like a script from a movie. Born in Cleveland, Ohio, Teri Lockwood was a small child when her family moved to Cincinnati where most of her childhood memories were formed. When it came time for college, Teri enrolled in Peabody College of Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennesse, majoring in secondary education. Upon graduation, she did some 14

substitute teaching in the Nashville area and even­ tually moved back to Cincinnati and worked as a supervisor for a rehabilitation center at the University of Cincinnati. After moving back to Ohio, Teri went car shopping. “Kelly was selling cars,” she remembers fondly. “I had been looking at Toyotas where he worked. He showed me a car and then called as a follow­ up. He said “hello” and I started talking . . . I thought it was another guy I’d been dating. He tried to get a word in but I just kept talking . . . I was so embarrassed. After that, we knew we’d have to meet again.” When Kelly called a second time, Teri was sick. “He brought over chicken soup.” Teri recalls “and that did it.” Teri Lockwood and Kelly Mehler were married a year later. After they married, Teri and Kelly decided to go to Europe. Teri had visited the continent summers earlier and it had been her dream to return. Together they traveled for a few months crossing Europe, finally settling in Switzerland. They rented a chalet, bought a car and worked for their wealthier neighbors. “One person hired us to drive their dog to Spain,” Teri states. When they reachThe Mountain Spirit

ed their destination, they dropped off the dog and the car and bought a mule. “We saw Spain from mule-back,” Teri recalls. “We didn’t know Spanish but we learned it. In all our travels, we wanted to get to know the people . . . to know what their life is really like.” And from the back of a mule, they became intimately acquainted with Spanish life. But, Teri admits, “you can only ride on a mule for so long.” After tiring of mule riding, the trio (Teri, Kelly and the dog they had purchas­ ed) climbed aboard a boxcar that slowly crawled back and forth across Spain and Portugal, finally taking the entourage back to Switzerland. They returned to their rented chalet and lived there until Teri became pregnant and they returned to the United States, where Teri was rehired in her posi­ tion at the University of Cincinnati. Kelly was hired there also. In 1976, Teri, Kelly and baby Jason, decided to move to Berea, Kentucky, so that Kelly could study woodworking at Berea College, a move that set the course for their future. “When we first moved to Berea,” Teri explains, “we received a Welcome Wagon basket. In the basket was a letter from Father Beiting telling us about CAP. I’ve always been drawn to social ser­ vice work, so something in his letter struck a chord.” The introduction to CAP continued in other areas of their lives. Kelly learned that CAP had some woodworking equipment that was not being used, which Father Beiting loaned him to start a furniture-making business. “Times were tough,” Teri remembers, “but it gave him the chance he needed to get started. We lived in a log cabin and had a garden to grow our own food. It was hard but we had a good support group of friends.” By 1983, the woodworking business was

established and very successful and Teri was work­ ing at a day care facility next door to CAP’s Emmaus Center, but she still wanted to work for CAP. “I’d wanted to work for CAP for a while, doing something with moms and babies. I believe strong­ ly in the importance of those early years. Then Ellen [Burke, CAP’s director of human develop­ ment] came and told me the program manager’s position (at CAP’s Child Development Center in Berea) was open . . . I applied.” In February 1985, Teri was hired. “I love CAP,” Teri says without reservation. “The first time I walked in, there was something different. This sounds corny but I thought to myself ‘there’s a group of people with a sense of purpose.’” Teri has managed the CAP Child Development Center in Berea for more than four years but she still looks forward to the challenges that face her in the days to come. “Part of liking to work is feeling that what you do is important. What makes our work so good is seeing the family as a whole. I’m always learning from the children, their parents, other staff people —I’ve learned a lot about myself; what I believe, where I’m coming from, what I’m about.” Teri’s learning does not stop in the classroom. This summer, she hopes to complete a masters’ degree in the administration of programs for children and youth. “I want to be better at what I do,” she explains, “I don’t want to go anywhere; I just want to be better.” People often say that when God smiles, good things happen. One day in February, 1985, God’s smile brightened the sky and, her quest for service led Teri Mehler to serve the people of Appalachia through the Christian Appalachian Project.

T eri shares som e tim e w ith ch ild ren in the C A P C h ild D ev e lo p m e n t C en ter in B erea.

M ay-June 1989

15

^Edward grew up in Magof­ fin County, although he worked for several years as caretaker o f a farm in Ohio. After a wild and wooly life in Ohio, he came back to Kentucky six years ago to care for his mother, Ruby, and grandmother, Arettia, after his grandfather died. Arettia’s death in February was a blow to both Edward and Ruby.

The lifestyle Americans have come to expect has no reality for Edward. The house where he and Ruby live has no running water or electricity. The array of things by which many people set such store means little to Edward. After returning to Magoffin County, he was “saved” and began a ministry of spreading the Gospel by founding the International Church of the Eternal God. Edward used to live in the church, which measures 10’ x 20’, a little bigger than a storage shed. Recently he fixed the roof and floor and is saving what money he can to buy paint.

T he M agoffin O utreach C enter

Story and photos by Margaret Gabriel

The church will hold 20 to 30 peo­ ple if they are packed shoulder-toshoulder, as they were at Arettia’s funeral. Many in attendance were preachers in the International Church of the Eternal God, who grew up in the same holler as Ed­ ward. People refer to him as “Sun­ shine” because of his flaming red hair and because of a disposition that finds new life in the Lord every day. “/ am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life fo r his sheep. ” (John 10:11) Based on this verse, Edward teaches that the time will come when Jesus will speak and all the sheep will know his voice. He believes that people of all denominations are children of God, that people who believe that He came, He died and that He will come again believe the same thing. Different manners of worship are simply different ways of communicating with God. The soundest theology doesn’t have to come from a seminary.

16

The Mountain Spirit

Joann and her three children, Brandon, Jody and Willie, live with their friend, Annie, in a two-room trailer in an isolated part of the county. Brandon and Jody are Joann’s first husband’s. Willie was born in January, after his father, Joann’s second husband, died in August and was buried on the hillside, up from the trailer, next to the house that Joann hopes to fix and move into in the spring. With Annie’s help, Joann recently was able to reunite her family, after her children had been in foster care.

J o a n n ’s d au gh ter, J o d y . ***

Father Ralph Beiting, CAP’s founder, has been interested in the needs of Magoffin County since he move to Floyd County in 1981, said Mike Sanders, director of CAP’s Martin operations. “We’ve reached out to some special needs from our offices here in Floyd County. Through those contacts, we were in a position to see the need in the county. Then, I can’t emphasize too much the credit Father Beiting should get for his first-hand dealing with some of the people in Magoffin County. They get his attention, then he gets everybody else’s attention.”

Megan would like to see Joann study for the high school diploma that would help her to get a job and an apartment or a trailer of her own. She dreams of CAP opening a day center where Joann’s children, and others like them, might receive the same services that children in CAP’s centers in other counties receive. Joann is caught in a common situation for young women in Ap­ palachia. She would like to work, but available jobs are so low-paying

that she could not afford child care or the medical insurance that she would lose if she forfeited AFDC benefits. So, 21-year-old Joann exists from day-to-day. Megan says that despite what one hears about the impossibility of breaking out of poverty and that the system is designed to prevent it, there are enough resources available to Joann and enough support that with a lot of work, it is possible. The key, she says, is Joann’s determination. ***

The backbone of the Magoffin Outreach Center is Megan Cor­ coran, a 22-year-old form er volunteer from Danbury, Connec­ ticut. Megan first experienced CAP as a member of a temporary volunteer group that worked in the garden program during spring of 1987. Later that year, Megan worked in

When he was writing grants for CAP, Joe Foley, now the manager of emergency assistance in Floyd County, was able to secure funds from an anonymous source and St. Mary’s Catholic Foundation for an operation in Magoffin County. That total, plus money allocated from emergency assistance in Floyd County, enables Mike to hire a full­ time worker and rent a building. “A lot of what we’re doing now is needs assessment,” Mike said. “And we’ve got a key person, Megan Cor­ coran, that we can depend on to visit and get to know the areas with the most need.” J o a n n and J o d y .

M ay-June 1989

17

M e g a n ’s artw ork decorates the c h ild r e n ’s d ep artm en t o f the M agoffin C o u n ty A ttic.

the CAP Child Development Center in Berea. When she discovered that her heart was in Appalachia, and she wanted to stay, Megan took a job as a reporter with the Floyd County Times in December. In the summer, when CAP was hiring a worker in its emergency assistance program, Megan applied for and got the job. “I guess the experience I got working in emergency assistance in Floyd County really worked in my favor when they were hiring for Magoffin County.” Megan said. “I love it. It seems to me to be the epitome of what CAP is all about. We don’t have a lot of structure over here; we go on instinct a lot.” Megan’s relationship with the people in the county is one of CAP’S greatest assets. For Edward, whom she met when she was lost one day, she is a sometime-member of his congregation. For Joann, whom she met through the garden program, she is working to be an enabler. For some people she is a confidente; for others, a daughter-figure. It is hard to imagine how Megan could fit anything more into her schedule (reaching her on the phone is all but impossible), but she wants to add to the used clothing store, GED study session, garden seed, Christmas basket and home visiting programs. “I’d like to start a draw­ ing class for kids and women’s group, although we’ve already got an informal one going in the Attic.”

brush and a drop cloth. Without asking many questions, they went down to the hardware store, charg­ ed a lot of materials, came back, started helping, and have been help­ ing ever since. Rooster is a disabled miner and Mary is the eyes and ears of Magof­ fin County (which is how she knew that CAP was moving in). They have two children; Wes, 13, and Tommy, 10. Like their parents, Wes and Tommy have never met a stranger. They’re good students who stay out of trouble; Mary and Rooster would like for them to go to college some day. Megan says that if it wasn’t for Mary and Rooster, opening the At­ tic would have been a disaster; that thanks to their help, the store is open and functioning smoothly. Rooster hooked up the gas stove and built shelves and tables in the store. Mary organized many things in the beginning, got donations of bags and hangers that they needed, and even today, stops in from time to time, to find out if Megan needs anything. ***

palachian Project.” Father Beiting says that on one of his innumerable trips between eastern and northern Kentucky (home of family and friends who kept him supplied with clothing), he realized that giving away clothing was a dead-end pro­ position. Because they paid nothing for the clothing, people did not value it. When it got dirty, they threw it away and came for more. Worse than that, Father Beiting says, the neediest people did not come at all, too proud to accept what they considered handouts. As big a need as good clothing is, though, Megan says that it’s the community feeling that has made the store so valuable. “People come

***

Megan met Mary and Rooster on one of her first days in Magoffin County, where they’ve lived all their lives. She says that they came in and saw that she was trying to make ex­ tensive repairs and renovation with some unmatched paint, a paint 18

Like CAP’s seven other Attics, the Magoffin County used clothing store provides good clothing and household goods at affordable prices. Distribution of used clothing is one of CAP’s oldest programs, dating back to the early 1950s, even pre-dating the name “Christian Ap­

M egan C orcoran.

The Mountain Spirit

in every week, and spend some time with other people who are here,” she said, indicating an comfortable little area that she has set aside for her “coffee club.” Often they come in to help with the work, but more often they come in “to see what’s doin’,” according to Megan. Through the contacts that she has made through Mary and others who help in the store, Megan can assess the needs of the county, and gain introductions to people who might need CAP’S services. *** If Lizzie was a part of a different culture, in a big city, for example, Megan thinks she would be an ex­ ecutive because she’s a leader —a dynamic force behind much of the involvement of the people of the county in CAP’s work. She’s lived in Magoffin County all her life and quit school in the 8th grade. There was no great trauma in the decision; that was what everybody did when Lizzie was a girl, not so long ago. She hasn’t always been so vitaliz­ ing. When they first met, Megan says that Lizzie was painfully shy and withdrawn. She came in to ask for the use of a kerosene heater, and couldn’t even look Megan in the eye. Now Lizzie is a white tornado around the Attic. She always knows where things are stored and what’s going on. On “office days,” when she is dealing with emergencies or completing long-delayed paper­ work, Megan trusts Lizzie to run the store smoothly.

of years completed was 8.8. In the years since then the statistics have not improved much. “It’s not just that it’s important for people to get an education so they can get a job. Improvements in self-image have been fantastic,” Megan said. She admitted that she has done a little mild coercion in order to get people to enroll in the class, but they’ve agreed that it’s been worth it. “The first time Lizzie came to a GED class, she got all dressed up —she looked beautiful! Even though she was coming to the same place where she’s been working every week since August! She was very quiet when she first started coming, but now, she’s turned into a real organizer. She has a lot more confidence and I can see her ego snowballing. I just know that the work she’s been doing on her GED has had a lot to do with that.” In the course of home visiting, Megan doesn’t meet many people who have finished school, and not all of them are convinced that a high school education is a necessity or even a possibility. Thanks to Megan’s work at publicity, and that of Shari Pesce, a volunteer who teaches the class, the possibility of a diploma is becoming a reality for several people.

M egan m akes arrangm ents to see L iz z ie later in the w eek .

One year ago, Ruby attended ser­ vices at the International Church of the Eternal God, where her, son, Edward, preaches. Ruby says that at the services, she was healed and released from the wheelchair that she had used for 15 years. Some people say Ruby confined herself to a wheelchair so she could collect a disability check, but a friend of Megan’s, who grew up on the creek where Ruby lives, says that judging from the way her feet look­ ed, there was no way that she could

It’s exciting and even inspiring to see how much Lizzie is willing to do for herself. *** On Tuesday mornings, Magoffin County residents meet to study for the GED (high school equivalency) exam at the Attic. Megan says that help with GED preparation is a crucial part of their work. According to the 1980 census, on­ ly 30.1 % of Magoffin Countians over the age of 25 had completed high school, and the median number M ay-June 1989

M egan v isits w ith a M a g o ffin C o u n ty fa m ily .

19

walk. Even today, Megan says, Ruby’s feet don’t look like they could support her. *** Person-to-person programs have had the most success introducing Magoffin County to CAP and CAP to Magoffin County. In just two seasons, both the garden seed pro­ gram and the Christmas basket pro­ gram have increased dramatically. In 1988, 90 families in Magoffin County were recipients of seed, seed potatoes and fertilizer from CAP. “Then, the first thing 1 did when I started working the county,” Megan said, “was travel around, giving out canning jars and visiting the people we hadn’t been able to get to. This year we had 120 people registered by February.” Garden visiting by CAP workers is obstensibly performed to “help” seed recipients with their gardens. Most workers say that the people they visit, especially the elderly peo­ ple, have forgotten more about gardening than they ever knew in the first place. Christmas basket distribution had a big increase from 100 baskets in 1987 to 150 in 1988. “A lot of those families, probably 90%, overlap, they receive seed and a Christmas basket,” Megan said. “Of all our programs, visiting is the most important,” she said. “Visiting and following up and establishing an attitude toward CAP in the county. I know that I won’t be here forever, but if people have a good attitude toward me, they’ll have a good attitude toward CAP. The reputation I have will make it harder or easier for the next person.” *** When Robert fixed Megan’s motorcycle, she gave him another motorcycle, one that didn’t work. It may not sound like much, but Robert can fix anything with an engine, so when he fixes the bike, he’ll be able to travel to Paintsville and learn welding. Although Robert is a capable and 20

M egan h op es that C A P w ill b e able to h elp R obert M iller and h is fa m ily fin d h o u sin g w h en th ey m ove from the fa m ily h om e in M a g o ffin C o u n ty .

motivated worker, he doesn’t have a job because he lacks transporation. The family lives in a rent-free family home in an isolated area. They de­ pend on family for what little transportation they have. Megan believes that being able to travel out of their holler is a key to the success for Robert and wife, Betsy. Megan met them when their house burned down. They were in­ volved in the garden program last year and Betsy is a faithful Attic worker. She thinks that the respon­ sibility at the Attic has helped Betsy believe in herself. By promising to help Betsy get glasses, Megan has convinced her to study to take her GED test. When he was younger, Robert moved to Indiana. When he came home, he met Betsy, they fell in love and got married. Today, they have two children and live in a 200-year-

old home that belongs to Robert’s great-aunt. Megan says that the house is scheduled to be sold in the spring and that she is working to help them find another place to live. Megan says that the biggest thing that she can give Robert and Betsy is hope. By pushing and encouraging, she has seen them say, “Well, maybe I can do that after all.” She pointed out they were getting used to just making it, but now, they’re getting involved and excited that they can change their lives. Megan believes that if they have ex­ pectations of themselves that they can meet, they’ll start to expect more of themselves and their kids. It’s easy to see how much Robert and Betsy think of CAP’S outreach workers. They named their puppy “Megan.” The Mountain Spirit

Random Thoughts

“Hi, my name is Crista Cooper. I’m here to interview for the posi­ tion of child care worker.” “Hello. Have a seat. Tell me, how do you feel about working in a spouse abuse shelter?” “To be honest I feel a little out of my league. I’ve worked with children before but I’ve never work­ ed with abused women.” “It will take some time to feel comfortable here but you soon will. Let me show you around.” After my official interview I sat down at “my desk” and started reading child care handouts. Gran­ diose ideas began to form in my mind; elaborate activities, art pro­ jects, counseling sessions planned to the very second of enactment. What a great year this was going to be! As I sat planning, one of the residents asked if I wouldn’t mind taking care of her two-and-a-half year old daughter while she ran to the store. “Great,” I thought. “I can get started already.” I took the young girl’s hand and led her to a closet full of games, books, and toys. The goods in view, she quickly wriggled free, ran at the shelves, and grabbed and threw and shoved and yanked until the floor was full and the shelves quite empty. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Let’s try playing with one toy at at time.” About half an hour passed and she hadn’t yet grasped that concept when she discovered the fish tank. “Ooh ooh!” She pointed to the fishless waterless glass container, at the gravel and marbles scattered on its bottom. “Finally,” I thought. “Something to keep her interested.” I picked the child up, carried her to the aquarium, and let her peek down in­ to it. M ay-June 1989

Gabriel

I came to Appalachia full of hope and enthusiasm.

SWOOSH! The young girl stuck out her little hand, grabbed a shiny black marble, and shoved it into her mouth. I panicked. “Now give that back, honey,” I ordered, thrusting my finger bet­ ween her teeth. “Give it back!” She looked at me, turned bright red, and began to squawl breathlessly. “She’s dying!” I thought. “And I killed her! Some child care worker I am.” Hysterical, I grabbed the poor child by her feet, flipped her upside down, and began to shake. Her breathless squawling continued. Oh God, help me. I made a quick dash for the manager’s office and stood in the doorway trembling, the child surely dying in my arms, my job surely flying out the window. “ I th in k she sw allow ed something,” I managed, trying to hide my hysteria. Janet, the assistant program manager, took the red-faced child in her arms and said calmly, “Oh, did you put a piece of paper in your mouth?” The child stopped squawl­ ing, smiled, and began to gurgle happy baby talk. I ran behind the twosome and searched frantically for the culprit. “There!” I screamed, pointing wildly at the floor. Janet, still cooing at the happy child, looked at the small black mar­ ble lying harmlessly on the carpet. “Now how did that get there?” She stooped down, picked it up, and heard the child’s mother at the front door. Relief! I practically ran the girl out to her. “Here you go,” I said, handing her over. “Was she any problem?” “Oh no, not at all. We had fun.” The mother and I sat down on the couch to watch the little “darling” at her play. “You know she’s losing the

C rista C ooper.

muscles in her legs,” the mother blurted out. “And she’s seeing a psychological counselor, too.” “Oh really?” “Yeah, she saw me stab her daddy.” “Oh? Really? Is he all right?” “No, I killed him. I was in jail before coming here two weeks ago.” “Oh. Really.” Incom petency. D esperation. Deflation. How could I be so stupid and naive to think that I had something to offer these women? What could I say to her? (“Yeah, I know what you mean. The same thing happened to me last week.”) I can’t work here! But I did come to work and I plan to continue working here after my year. And maybe that is what I have to offer our residents; a naive sense of justice that enables me to regain hope and enthusiasm after total disillusionment and desperation, to come back. That, and sense of humor, and a promise not to flip and shake any more babies, and maybe I am making a bit of a dif­ ference. 21

ernon Watts stood up too quick and smacked headfirst into the cobwebbed barn beam. He sat back down open-mouthed, stunned, knees all weak and watery. “You all right, boy?” asked Harper. “Let me take a look at your head.” “No.” Vernon tugged his cap down tighter and fought to stop the spinning and flashing. He felt a seeping warmth from the cut, gritted his teeth and reached for another stick of stripped tobacco. “It ain’t nothing,” Vernon mumbled. “I ain’t hurt.” He shoved the tobacco to Harper. “He hit hisself on the head, Harper,” chuckled Manual Cox. “Can’t hurt a Watts, hitting him on the head. Let’s get this stuff loaded up and hit the road.” Working in the dim yellow light of a single bare bulb, Vernon and Harper loaded the sticks of tobacco onto Manual’s truck and covered it with a stiff dirty tarpaulin. Vernon ducked under the truck to snug the ropes and had to grab onto the wheels when the dizziness struck. “You sure you’re okay?” Harper asked softly. Vernon nodded and licked his lips. “Just some dizzy is all,” he said. Vernon crawled out and stood, almost six feet tall now, and rubbed his eyes. “It’s from getting up so early.” “Boy’s got growing pains,” laughed Manual. “He growed a foot in the last year. Bumps into lights, trips over the doorsteps, can’t even hold onto a glass of milk. Vernon’s gonna be a big man, Harper. But just yet he ain’t got used to standing six feet tall.” Harper smiled. “I guess you’re right about that.” Vernon tugged his baseball cap down tighter. “Go set in the truck,” said Harper. 22

Dawn was breaking as the truckload of tobacco rumbled down the rutted roadway. Manual fumbled with the heater controls and light switches, flipped on the radio, cut a fresh chew, and eased slowly out onto the paved highway. The old GMC roared, backfired as Manual double-clutched and shifted, then picked up speed. After he had worked up to high gear Manual rolled down the window to spit, lowered the volume on the radio, and grinned at Vernon. “First time to the tobaccer market?” he asked. Vernon nodded. “I never even been to Maysville before,” he said softly. The throb in his head was easing off some. “Momma let me miss school to go.” “Elsie ain’t no fool,” grinned Manual. “She knows a pimple-faced boy has got to get him a look at the big city.” “Some big city,” chuckled Harper. “Maysville ain’t nothing but tobacco warehouses and beer joints.” “It ain’t Paris, France,” Manual agreed with a chuckle. “But it sure beats Finchburg.” He slowed the truck and listened to the popping exhaust as they rolled down the long hill into the county seat. “Finchburg, Kentucky,” intoned Manual. “The friendly town that hospitality built.” He chuckled. “They do got a right friendly jailor, at that. Last time they locked me up old Willard went and got my jug out of the truck and me and him set in the cell and drunk it, ever bit. When they let me out I had to sleep it off before I could drive home.” He braked the truck to a stop at the signal, and pointed. “Jail’s right up yonder.” “You don’t stop roaring that muffler,” warned The Mountain Spirit

Harper, “that’s where we’ll all be.” Manual eased the truck away from the light and upshifted gently. “Your daddy tries to act like he ain’t never made no trouble Vernon, but don’t you believe one word of it. Harper used to be the drinkingest, fightingest little feller on Mauck Ridge ’til Elsie got aholt of him and tamed him down.” “Shut up, Manual,” Harper said with a grin. “The boy don’t need no encouragement.” They crossed the county line and threaded through a row of dismal roadhouses, bleak in the foggy morning. “Now, a man can get himself killed in this burg,” said Manual. He downshifted for the hill. “Fight ever night in Spencer’s, and most of these old boys carries knives and pistols.” Vernon dozed for half an hour, and woke up as the truck’s screaky brakes held them back on the Maysville hill. “Are we there yet?” he asked. “Coming right up on Bob’s Bar,” said Manual. “Best looking waitresses in Mason County.” “That’s Maysville down yonder,” said Harper. Vernon stared down at church spires, smokestacks, acres of flat tobacco warehouse roofs, the elegant old bridge, and —in the distance —the muddy waters of the Ohio River. “Better shut your mouth, boy,” laughed Manual. “You’ll catch a bushel of bugs.” “It’s big,” whispered Vernon. “Right smart of a town,” agreed Harper. “Maybe after we unload we could drive downtown. Maybe even cross over the bridge to Ohio and back.” “Could we?” Vernon leaned forward, eager to not miss a sight. “I never seen so many houses and stores and stuff.” “You’ve kept this youngen up in that holler too long,” complained Manual. “What would he think if he was to see Cincinnati?” “He will, in good time,” grunted Harper. “Vernon’s one youngen that ain’t gonna spend his whole life up Creech Holler. He’s a scholar, Vernon is. Gonna make a doctor.” “Not if he don’t set back, so I can see to drive,” grunted Manual. He swung the truck down a street lined with beer joints and used car M ay-June 1989

lots, sidewalks already busy with roughly dressed farmers, and stopped at the Kentucky King warehouse. “This the one, Harper?” he asked. “Just follow them other trucks,” said Harper. Manual drove through huge doors, and Vernon gasped. “Big, ain’t it” chuckled Manual. “A body could put all of Finch County in here.” He parked, and they swung out to meet the warehouse crew. “Get up there and hand it down, Vernon,” said Harper. “These boys will do the rest.” Warehouse workers slid the hands of tobacco off the sticks, neatly stacked the leaves on round baskets, and laughed as they sorted Harper’s crop into four grades. When the crop was tagged and weighed, Harper sighed. “Not but 1500 pounds to the acre,” he said softly. “I was counting on a whole lot more this time.” “You’re gonna have to stop growing this pretty stuff ” growled Manual. “Now that there new seed, Kentucky 21, Earl Allen growed it this year and got 2500 pounds to the acre.” “That old black tobaccer?” Harper snorted. “My burley’ll bring a nickel a pound higher.” “Yeah,” agreed manual, “but Earl, he’ll go home with about $500 a acre more’n you. You gonna make any money growin a crop, Harper, you’re gonna have to use the new kind and sock the fertilizer to it. Pretty don’t count no more.” “Reckon you’re right,” sighed Harper. “But a body ought to be able to make a livin by doin it right.” “That’s how come I’m a trucker and not a farmer,”’ chuckled Manual. “If you and Webb had of stuck with it, you’d be rolling in cash right now.” “Like you?” Harper grinned. “I like to go home at night, Manual. Me and Elsie does all right, farming.” Manual snorted. “If you was as good at growing crops as you are at making youngens, you’d be a rich man.” “I’m rich enough,” Harper said quietly. “But, Lordy, I don’t know how we’re gonna make it another year if prices don’t go up some.” Vernon was busy inspecting the long rows of tobacco baskets, each tagged and weighed, waiting for the auctioneer. He shivered and 23

“It ain ’t Paris, France> Manual agreed with a chuckle, “ but it sure beats Finchburg. ”

wished he’d kept on the long underwear. “Cold, son?” asked Harper. “They’s a stove over yonder in that office room.” “Let’s go get us some dinner,” said Manual. “We can warm ourselves up over in the Black Cat.” “What’s the Black Cat?” asked Vernon. “Best eatin and drinkin place in Maysville,” grinned Manual. “Harper, it’s high time we showed this boy the good life. I’ll buy.” Harper hesitated. “That’s a rough place.” “Not in the daytime,” groaned Manual. “Let’s go.” He wheeled the empty truck down an alley, swung left and roared down the street toward the flood wall. He parked in front of a drab building with a broken neon sign. “You ever been to a restaurant?” he asked Vernon. “Nope.” Vernon stared at the flickering sign and dim interior of the Black Cat. “Is that a beer joint?” “Well, I’d reckon you could call it that.” laughed Manual. “But they got pretty waitresses and the best hamburger you ever ate.” “What’s hamburger?” asked Vernon. “Harper,” groaned Manual, “you got to start letting them youngens come down out of that holler ever now and then.” Harper held the door open for Vernon and Manual. Vernon stopped, just inside, awed by the tinny jukebox and the powerful stench of beer and stale grease, by the assortment of derelicts and farmers who crowded the booths and tables. “Quit gawking,” Harper said softly. “Let’s set over yonder.” Vernon slid carefully into the torn corner booth. “Take off your cap, boy,” chuckled Manual. “Was you raised in a barn?” Vernon reached for his cap. It wouldn’t come off. Harper scowled. “Take off that cap, Vernon.” “It’s stuck,” whimpered Vernon. “Stuck?” Harper leaned closer. “Why’s it stuck?” Vernon squirmed. “It’s the blood,” he mumbled. “From where I hit my head this morning. My cap is stuck to my hair.” 24

Manual yanked at the cap and Vernon yelped, as he ripped the cap loose. “Lord have mercy, Harper,” he groaned. “Elsie’ll kill the both of us when she sees that.” Harper stared at the dried, matted blood on Vernon’s head. “Boy,” he said weakly, “would you mind putting the cap back on?” They sat in silence until the waitress arrived with plastic menus and a throaty welcome. “What’ll it be, fellers?” Manual brightened. “One fresh waitress with nothing on. To go.” He grinned happily. “Howdy, Mabel. Been a long time, ain’t it?” “Be a lots longer time before you get more outa me than burgers and beer,” snapped Mabel. She chewed busily on her gum and leaned her stocky frame against the booth. “Want a beer, hon?” she asked Vernon. “No.” He stared at the tabletop. “I ain’t old enough.” “I never woulda guessed that,” laughed Mabel, “if you hadn’t a told me.” “Get me a cold Falls City,” said Manual. “And the same for my buddy Harper here.” “Two Cities, coming up.” Mabel waited. “What for the boy?” “Pepsi,” grunted Harper. “Cat got your tongue, sonny?” Mabel leaned over to tease Vernon and the buttons of her short white uniform strained. Vernon turned bright red. “Look at them big brown eyes,” sighed Mabel. “In about five years he’ll have to whup off the girls with a stick.” Laughing, swishing, she went for the drinks. “Look at that behind, would you,” chuckled Manual. “That’d keep a felier warm on a winter night.” Mabel returned and plopped sweaty beer bottles on the table. “Ready to eat?” she asked. “What’ll it be?” “Hamburgers all around, with fries,” said Manual. “On me today.” “I’ll put yours on you and theirs on plates,” cracked Mabel. Vernon giggled. Harper salted his beer and drank greedily. “Two more, Mabel,” yelled Manual. “I better not,” Harper protested weakly. The Mountain Spirit

“Man don’t sell his crop but once a year, Harper,” Manuel laughed. When Mabel brought the platters Vernon stared suspiciously at the greasy potatoes and dripping hamburger. “Douse it all good with ketchup,” advised Manual, “and then you won’t notice how bad it tastes.” “What’s ketchup?” asked Vernon. Manual handed him the bottle. “It’s like tomatoes, only better. Take my word for it.” “Try the stuff without ketchup first,” suggested Harper. Vernon picked up the limp hamburger and shook off the grease. “What’re these made out of?” he asked. “Ham?” “Beef,” snorted Manual. “Ground beef.” “But why . . . ? Manual shut the boy off. “I don’t know why they call ‘em hamburgers,” he snapped. “They just do. Shut up and eat.” Vernon bit into the hamburger and chewed thoughtfully. “Good,” he announced. “Try them french fries,” advised Harper. “That’s the way they cook ’em over in Paris.” He grinned. “Ones I et over there durin the war wasn’t so soggy, though.” Vernon bent over and cleaned his plate, smacked and licked his fingers. “Eats like a young heathern,” growled Manual. “Want another one, boy?” Mabel brought another hamburger platter and two more beers. “Growing boy,” grinned Manual. Halfway through his third beer Harper was grinning for different reasons. Vernon paused halfway through a mouth full. “Are you drunk, Daddy?” he asked. “He ain’t drunk,” spat Manual. “Two more, Mabel.” Vernon’s eyes widened as Manual drained another tall bottle. “Momma said that if you started getting drunk I was to steal the truck keys and hide them.” “Ain’t nobody drunk,” Harper said thickly. He pulled out his railroad watch. “Crop sells in half an hour. We’d best git.” Manual dug into his pocket for two quarters and slapped them down on the table. “Is that all it costs?” asked Vernon. M ay-June 1989

“Boy, that there is the tip,” snorted Manual. “It’s for Mabel.” “Why?” asked Vernon. “Don’t she get paid for working?” “Not enought to live on, hon,” laughed Mabel. She scooped up the quarters and handed Manual the ticket. “Ya’ll come back now. You hear? Specially the youngen, soon as he grows up a little more.” She winked and Vernon blushed. Manual patted Mabel’s corseted fanny and ducked her fist. “Pleasure to do business with you, Mabel,” he grinned. “Some night I’ll come back when I can stay longer.” “That’s what they all say,” laughed Mabel. Harper stumbled going out the door. “Out of practice, old son?” asked Manual. He chuckled. “They was a time, Vernon, when your daddy’d have six beers for breakfast and then light into some serious drinking.” In the cold warehouse the auctioneer’s singsong chant totally confused Vernon. The selling happened too fast, and only Harper’s face gave Vernon a clue as to what their crop had bought. “Was it bad?” he asked. Harper smiled weakly. “Not so good,” he whispered. “Down some from last year.” He studied the tags and sighed. “$750 a acre, more or less, and half of that goes to Jones. We’ll git about $1600, all told.” “That’s a lot,” said Vernon. Harper chuckled, his eyes dim and weary. “It’ll pay the bank and most of the grocery bill,” he said softly. He sighed, and lit a cigarette with trembling fingers. “We’ll get by, Vernon,” he whispered. “We always do.” “Where’s Manual?” asked Vernon. “Probably gone after a bottle,” said Harper. “He’ll be back by the time we get our check.” They waited in the little office which stank of kerosene, sweat, and tobacco, waited until the man behind the cage called for Jess Jones and Harper Watts. Jones, owner of the farm which Harper cropped, was angry. “Can’t you do no better, Watts?” he growled. “Next year I might have to find me somebody what knows how to grow burley.” “I do the best I know how,” Harper said 25

“ You’ve kept thisyoungen up in that holler too long. What would he think if he was to see Cincinnati? ”

softly. “If that ain’t good enough you find yourself another man.” Jones backed away, frightened by the cold drawl and flashing brown eyes. “I never meant nothing, Harper,” he said apologetically. “You know how I can go on sometimes.” Harper glared, big fists clenched, then relaxed. “Yeah,” he grunted. “I know how you are.” He turned to Vernon. “Let’s find Manual and go home, son.” “Was Mr. Jones mad?” Vernon asked as they walked outside. “Is he gonna make us move off?” “He was just running at the mouth,” said Harper. “And, no, he ain’t gonna make us move. He knows they ain’t nobody else that’ll work as hard as we do for next to nothing.” Harper sighed. “Guess I’ll do some trucking, come spring, to get us by.” They walked slowly, slumped, until Harper stopped abruptly. “Now do you see why you got to stay in school?” he demanded. “You see why you and the rest of ‘em got to get away from farming?” They found the truck, with a door swung open, but no Manual. “Where is he this time?” groaned Harper. He slammed the door and kicked savagely at the front tire. Vernon edged backwards, wide-eyed. Harper took a deep breath, fumbled for a cigarette and lit up, then turned to Vernon. “Get in,” he said softly. “We’ll drove over to the Black Cat and get Manual.” Mabel met them at the door. “Am I ever glad to see you,” she said. “I thought Manual was here to stay.” “Get me a bottle of Old Crow,.” said Harper. “I’ll get my buddy and we’ll get out of here.” Vernon followed as Harper threaded through the noisy crowd. Manual was perched on a barstool, grinning. “Pull up a chair, old son,” he said happily. “You too, youngen. Let’s drink to tobacco, and how it makes a rich man for a day out of a hillside farmer.” “Let’s go,” Harper said tightly. “Go?” Manual stared. “We just got here.” He drained his glass. “Hit me again, Mabel,” he grunted. “And bring the boy here a short beer.” 26

Mabel handed Harper a fifth and his change. “Take out what he owes you,” said Harper, “and we’ll be going.” Manual shook his head sadly. “You’ve gone and got old, Harper,” he said quietly. “They was a time . . . ” Manual swung down off the stool and draped huge arms around Vernon’s shoulders. “Next year, boy, me and you will come by ourselves and have us one good old time.” Harper climbed under the wheel and handed the Old Crow across to Manual, who uncapped it and drank the top two inches. “Good,” he grunted. “Can you still drive, Harper?” It was much colder now, and the truck’s busy heater did little to warm the cab. Vernon shivered, and Harper wiped the foggy windshield with his forearm. Manual passed the bottle across and Harper drank grimly, guiding the truck with one hand on the spinner. He doubleclutched and downshifted for the Maysville hill, and Manual winced at the crunch of gears. They stopped at the county line for another bottle. Vernon huddled, sick from exhaust fumes and the stench of raw bourbon, and watched the jerky wipers fight the cold drizzle. Harper reached for the bottle. “Don’t drink no more,” pleaded Vernon. Harper hesitated, then tipped the bottle. “Grow up, boy,” growled. “Just grow up, would you?” Vernon sunk back against the ragged seat and tried not to touch either man. The drizzle turned to a heavy, splattering snow, quickly blanketing muddy hillsides, and the gray gloom of twilight darkened the hollows. Vernon fought back the tears, stared at his father’s grim face, and hoped they’d drop him off at home before they went to the bootlegger’s for another bottle. “River City Run” is reprinted from Mountain Passages, a collection o f short stories by Garry Barker. A copy may be obtained fo r $9.95, plus $2.00 postage and handling, by writing Garry Barker, 110 Holly Street, Berea K Y 40403. The Mountain Spirit

Reprinied from T he M ou n tain Spirit, November-December, 1987 A round the Project

by the C A P News Service

F ire D estro y s W areh o u se at A p p a la c h ia n V illage BEREA —As a service organiza­ tion, the Christian Appalachian Project often helps people who lose their homes to fire. This loss is a devastating experience for a family, Few of us can imagine the horror of watching a lifetime of work and dreams wiped out in flames. At 4 a.m. on Monday, August 24, CAP suffered that very loss when she warehouse at Appalachian Village burned to the ground. The build­ ing stored the donations of used clothing that CAP receives from all over the country and the broom fac­ tory, which employs six people who produce about 15,000 brooms per month. Although nothing is left of the warehouse but rubble and a con­ crete slab, CAP was fortunate that fire fighters saved the child develop­ ment center and the Berea Attic, Both are adjacent to the warehouse. Residents from the surrounding area, learning of CAP’s misfortune.

a

-

T he lire departm ent worked from about 5:00 a.in. until almost lunchtim e to bring the flames u nder control.

D ear Mountain Spirit read er, T he o u tp o u rin g of donations of used clothing from friends both n ear and far following this tragedy was indeed h eartw arm in g . A nd thanks to those generous people, those who shop at C A P ’s A ttic stores have not w anted for clothing d u rin g the past two w inters. A shortage is startin g to catch up w ith us, though, and as we look ahead to the sum m er m onths, w e’re Finding it necessary to m ake a special appeal for sum m er clothing, especially for ch ild ren ’s clothing. People d o n ’t usually th in k of su m m er clothing as synonom ous w ith school, b u t in K entucky, the w eather often calls for light-w eight clothing well into O ctober. Som etim es we find th a t children who are asham ed of th eir clothes are re lu c tan t— or even flat refuse— to go to school. As you go th ro u g h yo u r closets d u rin g spring cleaning tim e, w o n ’t you send the clothes you w o n ’t be using this season to the people of A ppalachia? C lothing m ay be sent to: T h e A ttic W arehouse A ppalachian Village U S H ighw ay 25 B erea, K Y 40403 T h an k you and m ay G od bless you, D oris/^.nglin M an ag er, C A P 'A ttics

N O N -P R O F IT O R G A N IZ A T IO N U .S . P O S T A G E P A ID Christian Appalachian Project

C H R IS T IA N A P P A L A C H IA N P R O J E C T 322 CRAB ORCHARD ROAD LANCASTER, KY 40446 The Mountain Spirit

Address C orrection R equested