The Mountain Spirit - Nov./Dec. 1990

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The Mountain Spirit The Magazine of the Christian Appalachian Project

The Mountain Spirit

The Magazine of the Christian Appalachian Project

Vol. IX, No. 6

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Contents Features 4

Public Witnessing by Margaret Gabriel

Sisters representing three different reli­ gious orders work as CAP employees, and witness to the people they serve as well as other CAP workers with whom they come in contact.

10 Friendship, Advocacy, Hope by Katie Newsome

Each quality is a vital element of CAPs Christmas basket program, which again this year will distribute food, clothing and gifts to Eastern Kentucky families.

Ruth Kachelek, OSF, p.4

20 Volunteers: Faith and Prayer by Carla Durand

Service and community are the tangibles of the CAP volunteer program, but most volunteers will tell you that the soul is the dimension of spirituality that all of the volunteers share. A CAP volunteer recounts the “exciting” aspects of com­ munity prayer.

Prayer and Spirit—CAP’S volunteers, p.20

The November-December Theme

22

A White Sports Coat by Garry Barker

As Vernon Watts graduates from the eighth grade, he ponders the value and necessity of higher education.

Departments 3

From Our Founder

9

Letters

14

The CAP Closeup

16

Around the Project

This month, we focus on spirituality, as we examine the Chris­ tian motivation for the work that is accomplished in CAP pro­ grams. Three of CAP’s workers are Catholic sisters, witnessing to the people who participate in their programs, as well as other workers, by their methods of living the Gospel. On page 20, volunteer Carla Durand shares the spiritual and prayer life of CAP'S volunteers, a powerful force, indeed. Award winning fiction writer Garry Barker recounts some views on education on page 22. On the COVER, Sister Ann Regina works wtih School on Wheels student Ada Cody. On the BACK COVER, a beautiful, but treacherous, snowfall blankets a country road. (Photos by Gabriel.)

Published by the Christian Appalachian Project. Editor: Margaret Gabriel. Advisory Board: Father Ralph W. Beiting, Mike McLaughlin, Rose Price, Bill Begley, Ike Adams, Kathleen Ford Leavell, Barbara Delmonico. G raphics Designer: Elizabeth Reed Miller. Circulation: Linda Grider East. The Mountain Spirit is published six times a year. The annual subscription price is $5.00. Subscriptions and other correspondence should be sent to The Mountain Spirit, Christian Appalachian Project, 322 Crab Orchard Road, Lancaster, KY 40446. Copyright, 1990, The Christian Appalachian Project, Inc. All rights reserved. Member, Catholic Press Association. The Christian Appalachian Project is a non-profit Christian service organization operating throughout Eastern Kentucky. The project operates on the philosophy that “helping people help themselves” is the best approach to Appalachian poverty.

From Our Founder A couple of weeks ago our editor asked me to write about spirituality for The Mountain Spirit. I began to think of topics I’ve studied, then changed my approach when I limped home last night after an 18-hour day. I decided I ’d give you a picture of what took place yesterday. You see, more and more I believe that spiritu­ ality is the presence of Christ in our everyday life. We make Him visible to the world and the world a better place because we enable its Savior to be present. See if you agree. The day began at 6:00 a.m., with a call from a hospital where a dying man asked to see a priest. I assured them I would be there by 9:30, after my religious service with the chil­ dren of Our Lady of the Mountains School. The gospel reading was about sinners; I asked if they knew of any sinners. One boy said, “everybody here is a sinner.” He was right, of course, and I told them that Jesus loves us even if we sin. “What do you think of such a God,” I asked. “He’s nice,” a girl replied. In that exchange Christ was real, He was nice, He was present. I went to the hospital to visit the dying man, and met his gracious wife. The old Italian gentleman couldn’t speak because of a stroke, but he was alert. I held his hand. He hadn’t been to church in years, but his wife wanted him to be at peace as the end drew near. We spoke about a God of mercy who wanted him to be converted and live. His eyes bright­ ened and he squeezed my hand. Christ, I believe, was present in that room, in his life and mine. By then, I was late for my meeting with the director of the Army Corps of Engineers. I went to see him about obtaining some land, explaining that I hoped to help families, the handi­ capped, and religious and civic groups who helped people. The director said, “I’ve seen what you’ve done in other areas. Why don’t we give you 200 acres?” He gave me maps and direc­ November-December 1 9 9 0

tions to visit the site. I thanked him. “No,” he said. “You and your people are the ones to thank. You do the good. We just furnish the land.” The government and a priest work­ ing together to serve people . . . Why? Because we are a nation under God. Christ was present. That afternoon I drove 45 miles to another county where I am building a small chapel on the banks of the Tug Fork River that separates Ken­ tucky from West Virginia. I said Mass there for a dozen people. They had come to pray . . . one for a sick brother, another for her family. She and her husband had just come from the lawyer’s office, talking about divorce. She cried terribly about her pain but asked me to visit her husband’s dying father. In her sorrow she could still think of others. I thanked Christ for coming to us that afternoon. At 6:30 p.m. I attended a Cham­ ber of Commerce meeting at the county seat, and told them of CAP’S desire to create jobs. A former can­ didate for governor of Kentucky spoke about the need for counties to work together even if your own didn’t always get what it wanted. “The spirit of Christ,” I said, “is thinking of others more than yourself. The spirit of Jesus must be felt before economic progress can be made.” Hope seemed more real when we left than when we began. I think Christ was present. At 8:30 I went back to the hospi­ tal to see the sick old man and the father-in-law of the lady faced with divorce. The old man was asleep but as I drew up a chair, he turned over and saw me. His hand reached out and held mine firmly. His smile told me Christ was still there. I went down the hall to see the father-in-law, and told the family who I was. They are of a different faith than I, but were pleased that I

Father Ralph W. Beiting

had come to pray with them. We bridged another gap and people were drawn closer. Christ was there. During the 35-mile journey home, I talked to Our Lord, thanking Him for the day, and the chance to bring Him into our world. Each time He came, His presence was felt; the world became a better place. At 10:00 I walked into the kitchen. I hadn’t had supper and I was hun­ gry. The refrigerator held no left­ overs and I was too tired to cook. A couple of eggs and some toast did the trick, and I went to my room, looking forward to quiet at the end of the day. By 10:30 the eggs and toast and the Diet Coke were gone and the phone rang. A worker I hired told me about a small fire in one of the places I am trying to start some jobs and the electricity was off. He asked me to see the owner of the building the next morning. I told him not to worry, that everything would be OK. I hope I didn’t lie, but Christ has been there all day. I think He’ll show up again tomorrow. By 11:30 I was in bed, and I turned off the light. “Thank you Jesus. I don’t know how I could have made it without you. I hope you can give me some idea of what to write about on spiri­ tuality for The Mountain Spirit. Get up at 6:00 and you will tell me what to write? Couldn’t it be 8:00? That’s right. That’s when I have to meet the fire chief about the building.”

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Lawson

Sister Theresa Gonyer

Sister Ann Regina Lannon

Sister Ruth Kachelek

Public Witnesses by M argaret G abriel

B ro w sin g through CAP’S archives, one notices pho­ tographs of Catholic sisters who have served the people of Eastern Kentucky over the years. Pictures from preVatican II days depict sisters in floor (or ground!) length habits, including veils and Rosary beads, visit­ ing isolated mountain homes, teaching Bible School. There’s even a picture of an athletically inclined sister playing baseball. (Surely, Sister received a two-run handicap for playing in a habit!) The sisters may have looked different from the way many look now, but they were involved in similar work as a trio of sisters who work for CAP today.

As a child, Sister Ann Regina travelled with her family every summer from Newark, New Jersey, to her mother’s home in western Pennsylvania. “We went through some very poor areas, and I always wanted to work in a rural area. Also, I’m a social studies major from Westchester State Teachers’ College, and did a lot of reading about the area. Those kinds of things inter­ ested me, and I always wanted to work in the Appala­ chian area.”

CAP is not a Catholic organization, but Sisters Ann Regina, Terry and Ruth see it as intrinsically religious, and are furthering their mission to the Church through CAP. All began their involvement with Appalachia as volunteers.

Sister Ann Regina, a social studies teacher, worked as a volunteer in programs in several Appalachian states for six summers. Knowing that she had a desire to work full time in Appalachia, Sister Ann Regina’s religious community made the necessary arrangements for her to work in the outreach program at St. Paul Catholic Church in McKee, Kentucky, where she learned about CAP.

Sister of St. Joseph Ann Regina Lannon works as a teacher with School on Wheels in Rockcastle and Madison counties, helping adults prepare to take their high school equivalency diploma test. She is teaching several adults to read and write.

“I was impressed with the work, especially the volun­ teers. Ellen Burke [CAP’S former director of human development] told me that there were some job open­ ings for teachers with CAP, so I applied and got the job,” Sister Ann Regina said.

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The Mountain Spirit

Sister Theresa Gonyer, a Dominican sister, worked as a temporary volunteer for CAP in 1979. After eight weeks, she returned to Plattsburg, New York, and resumed parish work and work in religious education. “It was the strangest thing. I thought I was unhappy that summer [see “Sister Terry: Cook for the Masses]. I had a calendar, marking off the days—I hated every minute of it. Or I thought I did, anyway. I never thought I ’d come back here, but I was home a year, and I was so unhappy. Nothing had any meaning. I tried for a year to find another organization that had openings for full time volunteers, always saying to myself ‘I don’t want to go back to CAP, I don’t want to go back to CAP.’” Several programs accepted Sister Terry, but by the time she received permission from her religious com­ munity to go, the positions for which she had applied had been filled. “It was just one thing after another, and then it finally came down to it. CAP had the only opening. Now they can’t get rid of me.” Sister Terry returned as a permanent volunteer in 1980 and worked in the Sunshine Center in Lancaster. Two years later, she transferred on to the Emmaus Christian Life Center, a residence for elderly people

Students at the CAP Child Development Center In Berea enjoy Sister Terry’s cooking and are the recipients of her gentle love.

Sister Terry: Cook for the Masses by M argaret G abriel In the summer of 1979 I worked as head volunteer in Mount Vernon. In addition to running a Bible School for about 70 children, I also supervised the volunteer house, making sure that the day-to-day activities necessary to run a household were done. During the eight weeks that we ran our summer programs, we had over 85 volunteers, averaging 40 to 50 at any one time. My memory fogs when I try to recall where all those people slept, but I do remember having 12 girls in a room with five bunk beds. Thankfully, they were high school students, who saw the whole experi­ ence as a three-week slumber party. To make things even more inter­ esting, we only had three permanent volunteers in Mount Vernon that sum­ mer, temperatures reached heights that hold records to this day, and I had ap­ pendicitis in June, so I never did

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reach my maximum output level. Our gift from God that summer was Sister Theresa Gonyer, who ar­ rived from Plattsburg, New York, with two Brothers of Christian Instruction and 12 teenagers. While the brothers and the kids worked on home repair, Sister Terry spent her days in the kitchen, providing daily bread—lit­ erally baking bread—for 50 people. At the end of each day, the kids would come home, covered with dirt and paint, and Sister Terry would have a mixed blessing. On the one hand, they always looked forward to enjoying a good dinner (quite a re­ ward for any cook). On the other hand, the only word I can think of for the way they teased Sister Terry is “unmerciful.” But, still she kept on, fixing four meals a day in that hot kitchen (breakfast, brown bag lunches, lunches for the Bible Schoolers, and

dinner), never using a convenience food and trying to keep 18-year-old boys who affectionately called her “Sis Terry,” from eating tomorrow’s lunch when they came home from work in the evening. By the end of the summer I was sorry to say goodbye, but I could tell that Sister Terry was not sorry to get back to her convent in New York. When the car in which she was rid­ ing pulled away from the house, she didn’t even wave. Several m onths later, Kathy Kluesener asked me if I knew a Sis­ ter Theresa Gonyer from New York, who had applied to be a permanent volunteer. “That must be a different Sister Theresa Gonyer,” I said. “I know somebody by that name, but I know she won’t be back.”

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Sister Ruth knew of no job openings. “I came saying, ‘Here I am, Lord. Find me what you want me to do. ’ I was ready to do anything, fitting who I was and what I knew to help anybody,” so she started working for a different group each day of the week; on Tues­ days, she worked in a CAP Attic in Floyd County. After six months, Sister Ruth knew that her commu­ nity could not support her indefinitely, and she began to get nervous about finding a paying job.

Sister Ann Regina stopped by to chat with Jewel Potter. Jewell, a form er student, recently received her GED, and would like to study for her real estate license.

who no longer choose to live alone. Sister Terry used her excellent kitchen skills to cook for Emmaus’ resi­ dents until August of 1990, then went back to “the little ones,” she says, as the cook for the CAP Child Devel­ opment Center. Order of St. Francis Sister Ruth Kachelek “discov­ ered” Appalachia from 1984 to 1988 when she visited Sister Mary Gervase Lochotzki, a Franciscan who started CAP’s literacy program in Floyd County. “I got to see what it was like, and each year I found it more and more difficult to say good-bye,” she said. “It was like I was catching this fever.” A two week stay in Zimbabwe, on the western coast of Africa, started Sister Ruth thinking that she had a calling to work among people of simple lives and needs, such as those she had met in Eastern Kentucky. In 1988 she made a prayerful decision to decline to run for re-election for her position as assistant to the general superior of her order, and move to Appalachia.

One Tuesday morning Rose Price, CAP’s assistant director of Martin Operations, came into the Attic. When Sister Ruth jokingly asked her if she had a job, Rose said, “as a matter of fact, I have two,” manager of emergency assistance and of the Big Sandy Family Abuse Center. Sister Ruth interviewed for both jobs, then told Rose that she was going on retreat, and would pray about it. “When I was discerning the two jobs, I methodically (science background that I have), wrote down the pros and cons for emergency assistance and for spouse abuse. I had all these things pro for emergency assis­ tance and only one for spouse abuse: the greatest need.” Unconvinced that she could manage an abuse center, Sister Ruth agreed to go for one day “just to prove to myself it’s not for me. “The day I went was staff meeting day. They had no director and were all pitching in to run the center. The meeting lasted four hours; I listened to them, and I listened to the issues and I thought, ‘This is no different from a faculty meeting.” Suddenly, Sister Ruth, with the necessary classroom hours for a Ph.D. and years of experience in school administration, realized that she did, in fact, have the skills needed to manage the center. And so, the program which she believed had the greatest need, “hooked her.” The term comes from Rose Price, who, knowing Sister Ruth would be ideal Gabriel

Sister Ann Regina travels with her study materials to homes in Rockcastle and Madison counties.

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The Mountain Spirit

Gabriel

for the shelter, “did a little Presbyterian praying of my own.” Each sister believes that she is furthering the mes­ sage of the Gospel by her work in Appalachia: the message that God is present in the world, loving and caring for each of His children. The fact that CAP is not an exclusively Catholic message makes for some inter­ esting times for the sisters. “Some people think I ’m Baptist,” Sister Terry said, “because in many of their churches they refer to each other as sister and brother.” She says that when the people learn she is a Catholic sister, they don’t treat her any differently, “and I wouldn’t want to be. “It made me very happy when one of our residents said she thought I lived my faith. That made me happy to realize that you don’t have to dress differently to be who you’re supposed to be.” Sister Ruth thinks of CAP as a religious organiza­ tion, as a perfect model of ecumenism. “I see CAP as a group working together as Christians, not necessarily fostering any one denomination, but working together for the Lord Jesus. Who I am as a sister contributes to that ecumenism.” The fact that the sisters are religious women is not secret by any means, but neither do they introduce themselves by saying “Hi, I ’m a nun.” “I like for people to get to know me first, as a person; as a Christian,” said Sister Ann Regina. “I tell them because there seems to be a lot of mystique around who a sister is, but they don’t have to understand. If they ask me questions, then I answer them.” Sister Ann Regina said that often she answers the question “Why don’t you get married?” “It’s not an easy question, because they ask, ‘Don’t you love a family?’ I tell them, yes I come from a big family, and I love children, but in my religion, this is the choice I make. I feel like I belong to a larger family, a Christian family. I have time freed up to do more work than an average person with a family.” While the sisters may not have what the secular world considers an immediate family, their religious communities provide them with the kind of love and support that comes from family. With that support also comes responsibility, the rea­ son Sister Ruth was becoming nervous after six months of unemployment. “I spent four years on the [governing council of the order]. I knew we had to support our retired sisters, plus ourselves, so my family is a big one, with lots of people who need support.” November-December 1 9 9 0

The son of a resident at the Big Sandy Abuse Center presented Sister Ruth with a pastel which adorns her office wall.

Sister Terry tells of her community’s concern for her, a concern that she is happy and healthy, both physically and spiritually. Each year she makes a decision concerning her work in Kentucky. “W e’re asked every year, and I know the doors are open for me to go home any time. I have to sign every year, stating whether I want to stay here. It’s nothing like it used to be. When I first entered, you didn’t choose—you were sent!” In choosing to become a member of a religious order, women commit to a life of prayer and service. Also important is living with people who travel a similar spiritual journey. Although CAP is a religious organization, and many workers are bound by com­ mon faith beliefs, Sisters Ann Regina, Terry and Ruth feel the need to unite in faith community with other sisters. 7

Lawson

“The behavior that I exhibit to the staff has to be in sync with the Gospel message.”

Although they do not live together, Sisters Terry and Ann Regina have a monthly sharing time with a group of sisters of the Mountain West area of the Catholic Diocese of Lexington, who work for religious or ser­ vice organizations in the area. “That’s a group of about 20,“ Sister Terry said, “but between meetings Ann and I get together for meals and to pray. I call that ‘commu­ nity’ also.” Sister Ruth belongs to a similar group that has fall and spring meetings. “Bishop [J. Kendrick] Williams organized us. There are 63 sisters in our region. We elect a regional representative every two years, who goes to the meetings with Bishop Williams [Bishop of Lexington]. That is a good support group. We gather, both officially and informally. “So, I ’m not losing my sisterhood, although Elaine [one of the workers at the family abuse shelter] says I’m losing my holiness, because I’m adopting some of their language,” Sister Ruth joked. “I said, That’s the only language you understand!” The level of experience each sister had before coming into her job with CAP varied greatly. Sister Ann Regina “comes from a family of teachers,” and always wanted to be a teacher. She taught social studies in Charlotte, North Carolina, before coming to Ken­ tucky, and will return to Philadephia in June of 1991, probably to teach in an inner-city school. “I suspect that some of the skills I’ve gained with School on Wheels will come into play in the city,” Sister Ann Regina said, “but I ’ll really miss the grass and the trees!” Sister Terry had experience cooking for large groups of people, because of her time living in community, 8

but cooking for elderly people, especially those with specialized diets, was new for her. She said that her years at Emmaus, and now cooking for the children at CAP Child Development, has taught her a lot about nu­ trition. Sister Ruth, on the other hand, had no experience at all concerning domestic violence, but “especially, I wanted to help women. In the summer of ’88 our con­ gregation had taken a stand to be on the side of and advocates for and companions to the oppressed— materially poor or academically poor—women.” Her work at the center fits perfectly with this stand. Sister Ruth said in learning about domestic violence, the staff at the Big Sandy Abuse Center has been a great help, as have the people she has met through the Kentucky Domestic Violence Association. “I think this job—the administrator of a shelter— fits me well because of who I am as a Franciscan woman. I feel more fulfilled and effective in this job than any I’ve had because of the charism of the order. St. Francis was always for the poor, always among the people. All my Franciscan training—it’s been 40 years— has led me here.” Each sister says that she feels called and blessed in her work, because of what she adds to lives physically through CAP, and spiritually, through their own wit­ ness. In response to questions by her students, “Are you saved?” Sister Ann Regina explains her thinking concerning baptism and witness. “I tell them I witness publicly because I’ve been baptized and the life I live flows from that. I tell them that I continually live out my baptism, hopefully, by whatever I do.” The Mountain Spirit

Letters A s I renew my subscription to The Mountain Spirit, and become more acquainted with your fine work among the people of Appalachia, I am reminded of an old favorite hymn we used to sing in Sunday School many years ago. I ’m sure all Chris­ tians will recognize it: “Brighten The Comer Where You Are.” CAP seems to have a knack for brighten­ ing comers and it is a joy to be a small part of the sunshine you spread around. May God continue to bless your ministry until we all learn that helping each other is what life is all about. Mrs. George Miller Palm Harbor, FL

I have had the privilege to volun­ teer twice in Appalachia. It was an eye opener for me and has changed my life. The struggle of the mountain people, their cry for justice and dig­ nity is the voice of the Lord. As Christians we all have a call to an­ swer the cry of the poor. We must go down the ladder into the heart and brokenness of the poor. And it is there, where we can find our own brokenness as we share our lives, gifts and talents with the mountain people. I felt the spirit of the Lord present in the faces of Appalachia. May God continue to bless you in the work that you do. Christine Somers Scranton, PA

As a former volunteer I always en­ joy looking through The Mountain Spirit to see if I recognize anyone! It has been seven years since I left CAP and when I get The Mountain Spirit, sometimes it makes it seem like just yesterday! I feel very fortunate and blessed to have had an opportunity to live in Kentucky and be a part of CAP. Gerry Gallagher Jenkintown, PA

Emily Hollis Lindenhurst, NY I enjoy The Mountain Spirit very much. Those mountain people are beautiful. Thank God you’ve been helping them so many years. I put you and them on my prayer list every day. I know your reward in heaven will be worth every hardship you’ve gone through. It will be worth it all when you stand before Jesus, and hear him say “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” Lelah Aubert Detroit, MI

We are constantly inspired by the work being done by so many dedi­ cated people in the Appalachian mountains for the needy there. The Mountain Spirit takes us right there with you all—wouldn’t want to miss an issue. Blessings to you.

It is good in this rush and hurry world to see that people still care for those less fortunate. As Christians we should always remember who we are. We are the vessels that the world sees as the light of Christ. If we fail to shine then the world will live in darkness. I ’ve read many is­ sues of The Mountain Spirit, and find them to be an uplift in my Christian life, and it also motivates me into seeing that there are a lot of people who are lost or need help to stand in this cruel world in which we now live in. I admire you for the work you’re doing and I just hope the Lord will use me to reach out and help someone too. My prayers are with you, and my thanks to you for helping so many. Tim Cole Hickory, NC

Mrs. Allan Potepan Seal Beach, CA

Your publication is a splendid one, uplifting and filled with happy tales of your success against odds in the battle with poverty and despair, it’s not hard to imagine what might exist in the Appalachian area were it not for the Christian Appalachian Proj­ ect.

Your magazine gives a clear “pic­ ture” about the people you are work­ ing with and also about what you are doing for them. Keep up the good work.

Ken Brenner Barrington, IL

Lois Thurston Cedar Falls, IA

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I certainly enjoy reading The Moun­ tain Spirit. I feel part of the CAP family now. The month of March I worked at the Family Life Services. It was good to see pictures of the residents I worked with. I wish them all the best of everything as they venture out on their own to start new lives for themselves and their chil­ dren. Be the good Lord willing, I’ll be back to give a little of myself to a big project.

Letters to the editor are wel­ come. They should not exceed 150 words in length, and we reserve the right to edit them for space. Address letters to The Mountain Spirit, Christian Ap­ palachian Project, 322 Crab Or­ chard Road, Lancaster, Kentucky 40446.

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families in the Appalachian counties of Eastern Ken­ tucky.

Advocacy, Friendship, Hope by Katie Newsome photos from the CAP Archives

T h e summer sweat has long been forgotten by the kids, replaced by the cold unrelenting winds that gust down the hollers and through the mountain valleys. Parents and kinfolk begin to worry about providing a good Christmas for their children.

CAP has distributed baskets for over 20 years, pro­ viding a holiday dinner, clothing, and Christmas gifts to families in 10 counties. Most of CAP’s baskets are distributed to the families with which CAP has had contact throughout the year through emergency assis­ tance, gardening, and other CAP programs. If re­ sources are great enough, the basket program receives referrals from community churches and other social service agencies and organizations. Families with children and the elderly are always first priority. In order to stretch resources and to reach as many families as possible, CAP also gives gifts to other churches and organizations that distribute baskets. Working within a budget and with the people that volunteer to sponsor families, Christmas basket work­ ers always try to provide a basket to all the families that need or ask for one. The number of people served by the Christmas basket program depends almost entirely on the number of people who are willing to sponsor a family. ickk-k-k

The Skeens family has nine people, with children who range in age from age 5 to 17. The dad works at a full-time job paying $900.00 a month, before taxes. All the children are in school.

•k -k -k -k -k

When Christmas arrives, everyone will gather at a family member’s house to enjoy lots of regional food —canned garden vegetables from the summer harvest and the ever-present shuck beans (dried green beans) simmering on the stove with an aroma so powerful it escapes the house and teases the senses of all who travel the holler roads. Gifts are scattered around the Christmas tree and moms are kept busy disentangling small ones from the decorations of garland and tinsel. This is one scenario. The other depicts people who are just scratching by, making what little they have go as far as it will. They are poor in material possessions. And many are poor in spirit—on the verge of giving up hope at the time of year when the Lord Jesus was bom to give us all hope and cause to rejoice. ‘k 'k 'k 'k 'k

The helping hand of CAP’s Christmas basket pro­ gram has made a difference, giving hope and a cause to rejoice in the Christmas celebrations of thousands of 10

For several years Father Giles Flayes, Morristown, New Jersey, has travelled to Floyd County with students from Delbarton High School, to help with CAP'S Christmas basket program.

The Mountain Spirit

On distribution day CAP workers and students from Delbarton see that each family receives the basket that has been prepared for them.

Throughout the year, CAP has kept contact with this family through the gardening program providing seeds, canning jars, information and encouragement. Betty, the mother, has fed the family all summer with fresh vegetables from the garden and canned some of the produce for the fall and winter months. Judy Crum, a worker, visits each month with the Skeens to share in their life and become a member of their close-knit circle. She takes clothing to the children when dona­ tions are available or she can pick up something suit­ able at a yard sale. The younger children don’t know or care that their family’s income is below what the government has determined to be the poverty level. Their parents are wonderful people, working to keep their family to­ gether, the kids in school, doing the best they can. ' k ’k ’k - k ’k

There is need all over. There always will be, but then there are people like Father Giles Hayes of Morris­ town, New Jersey. Father Giles motivates hundreds of people in his area to help with CAP’s Christmas baskets, then trucks tons of food, clothing and gifts into the winding mountain roads of Eastern Kentucky every year, two or three weeks before Christmas. These good folks make a major contribution to share hope with their many friends in the Kentucky Appalachian mountain chain. November-December 1 9 9 0

Father Giles comes to Floyd County with a group of students from Delbarton High School in Morristown. For some of them, it’s their first trip away from home, without their parents. Except for those who are repeat­ ing the trip, none have ever experienced a mountain Christmas. The boys who return are drawn back by their desire to be of service, working to load and unload trucks, deliver food and gifts; anything that needs to be done during this busy time at every CAP facility. With a strong attachment to young people, Father Giles has, in the past, donated a microwave oven to the Youth Center to make possible a “Latch-Key Kid” program. The realities of the economic times require many mothers to work outside the home. Often, fami­ lies have children letting themselves in after they get home from school, starting their homework, fixing themselves a snack. CAP staff taught the kids how to use the oven and to prepare simple meals. Father Giles and his group also donated a “Nin­ tendo” game to the Youth Center. Most of the kids cannot afford either this expensive video game ma­ chine or the tapes, but with this donation, all the children have been able to learn, how to play and enjoy, and to share and enhance their social skills by taking turns at the controls. Father Giles makes sure he has direct contact with the children that receive these toys, gifts and clothing. He always makes it a point to drop in at the Youth Center while he’s in the county, and takes part in the 11

daily activities. One year, he and his students hap­ pened to arrive just as the youth were about to start Christmas caroling in Martin. The center staff reported that they “got out of the truck and went right along. It didn’t take any time at all for them to blend right in and become a part of it.” Father Giles’ visits are always greeted with enthusi­ astic response, as he leads them in a yell or song. Laughter and anticipation, along with the excitement of the season, guarantee a wonderful and joyous expe­ rience for everyone. *****

The Nicholas family is six strong. Both parents are in their early 40s, and neither is able to work because of severe back problems. They have three teen-age sons and a grown daughter—all living at home and all in school. With the help of CAP’s gardening program, the Nicholas family planted and raised three large gardens full of com, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, potatoes— the entire produce section! In August, a helicopter that was spraying herbicide on vegetation growing on a power line strayed a little too close to the Nicholas’ garden. The family lost their whole garden, which would have been enough to feed the family during the long winter months. Mrs. Nicho­ las did manage to can a few jars of green beans and some pickles before the spraying occurred.

The garden was not only their food supply, but Mrs. Nicholas’ passion. She experimented with several heirloom seeds, organic gardening techniques, and natural pesticides, and this year was raising decorative gourds. She worked on her knees (because she couldn’t bend at the waist) to set out transplants of pepper, tomatoes and cabbage. The boys carried the heavier fertilizer, potatoes and water. Kevin Benson, who works with CAP’s garden and outreach programs, has worked closely with this fam­ ily. Since the loss of their gardens, money they would have used to buy school clothes and pay medical expenses is now having to buy food. •k k k k k

A Christmas basket is welcomed by many families, but for most of CAP’s families, the basket is not a Christmas handout, but an expression of love and friendship. The family knows that the basket is accom­ panied by truer expressions of friendship than the material things that will be eaten, broken or worn out. The family knows there is someone who cares about them. They know, too, that while CAP cannot provide for their every need, they can and will come through for them in a time of crisis or need. These families look forward to the CAP home visitors that stop by on an average of once every four to six weeks. Their visits are a time for sharing good times and also problems that have cropped up since the last visit.

Christmas basket workers double-check families’ registration numbers, then make sure that each family gets the right basket.

12

The Mountain Spirit

Lots of folks depend on CAP workers to help them complete government paperwork or to discuss a per­ sonal problem. Sometimes, folks cannot seem to get the needed objective viewpoint from the close mem­ bers of their family or friends. Many have questions they are curious about, but would never discuss with someone in their own community. During these visits, the worker makes needed refer­ rals to a number of available resources, agencies, groups and organizations that may be able to help with educational needs, health issues or personal problems. kkkkk

The Radfords and their boys, eight-year-old Mark, and little Tom, who’s five, have been a part of the CAP family for several years. Sharon, their mother, is 27 years old. Bom with a heart defect, she has already had open heart surgery and is now in need of a catheterization. Her husband, Tom, was laid off from his job at the coal mines in August of 1990—they don’t have any insurance and are not eligible for Medicaid. “I’m beginning to think there is no good luck! Ev­ erything that can go wrong is going wrong,” Sharon said with tears welling in her eyes when she stopped by the CAP offices to visit with Lou Ann Winters, a vol­ unteer. Sharon told Lou Ann that she needed to “talk to someone.” Sharon was on her way to talk to an agency about a “spend-down card,” a government entitlement pro­ gram that involves people with exorbitant medical expenses. The Radfords must pay the first $ 1,200.00 of the total cost. Sharon has applied for Supplemental Security Income and medical benefits, but the process takes a great deal of time, and she must have her catheterization before her heart gets too weak. Sharon worries with every mother’s thoughts of “What will happen to my boys if something happens to me?” She was overcome with emotion when eight-yearold Mark started doing the housework to help her. While she was grateful for the help and touched by M ark’s thoughtfulness and caring, she wants to do the housework and send Mark out to play baseball, so he can enjoy being a carefree little boy. An avid baseball fan and budding young artist, Mark wants his mom to be all well again. ***** During the month of October, CAP workers match Appalachian families with sponsor families from outNovember-December 1 9 9 0

Unloading and storing Christmas goodies is a many-houred job.

side the area. This process involves pairing people who agree to become sponsors with a family that has ap­ plied to receive a basket. No sponsor is put in direct contact with the family. They know they have a sponsor, but in order to preserve the pride of the recipient and the privacy of the sponsor, direct contact is always made through the CAP worker who knows and is friendly with the family. The Christmas basket program is in full swing during the month of November and distribution of the baskets usually takes place the second week in Decem­ ber—a time of high activity throughout CAP. Volun­ teers flood in from all over the United States to donate their time to help and touch base with the many friends they have worked with in the past. Several of the families that have received help during the year also volunteer to work during the Christmas season. A special atmosphere permeates every building and program during this most wondrous time of year. Eyeglasses fog over as folks come through the door almost frostbitten, rubbing their hands and stamping their feet to ward off the cold. Those people inside are already up to their elbows in Christmas wrapping paper are most enthusiastic in their greetings of wel­ come to yet another helper. But, everyone involved in the Christmas basket pro­ gram, workers and recipients alike, know that the clothing, food and gifts that are delivered one day in December are just a token of CAP’s real gift to the family, the gifts that are delivered throughout the year. Gifts of friendship and advocacy. Gifts of hope. CAP operates outreach and Christmas basket pro­ grams in ten counties. The success o f these programs is thanks to the love and generostity o f our donors. Continuing, or starting, donations will assure that CAP will continue these needed programs. —Ed. 13

The CAP Closeup

“Working Together We Can Make a Difference” Rose Price

I t is a typical day for Rose Price, assistant director of human development for CAP programs in Floyd County. On her way to the office, Rose stopped at the offices in West Prestonsburg to assist in some deci­ sions. By the time she got to her office, several people were waiting to talk to her, her desk was cluttered with telephone messages and and her appointment had been waiting for an hour. Her office was Filled with carton after carton of tortilla chips destined for Camp Shawnee. Amid what appears to be chaos, Rose handles it all in stride. A native of Eastern Kentucky, Rose understands first-hand the poverty and needs of the area. Rose grew up “in the city, not the coal camp.” “The city,” Prestonsburg, was still a small town by standards outside the area. Both her parents had to work, her father, any job he could until he got into a career, her mother selling homemade candy on the street. As a teenager, Rose wanted to leave her hometown and explore the world. Her plans changed when she met Phil, her husband of more than 20 years. They have stayed in Eastern Kentucky, rooted in Appalachia.

Story and photos by Elizabeth Marie Bishop

Rose claims the key to CAP’s success in the area is “a partnership between local people and outside people. It takes an outside person to come in and say, ‘Don’t you see your education system stinks?’” Rose explained, “The outside person helps me to see the good as well as the bad and so we pool our perspec­ tives. Outsiders can’t bring about the changes because nobody would listen. However, I can make a difference and so we work together.”

Although Rose’s experience is in direct contact, she enjoys administration and supervision of CAP programs.

14

The Mountain Spirit

Rose oversees Camp Shawnee, the Big Sandy Family Abuse Center, adult education programs, the Martin Youth Center, the Martin Teen Center, emergency assistance, small farm, Christmas baskets, elderly visitation programs, and the Garrett Attic—programs that deliver services to people in need. Rose says, “My job is narrow enough to say I ’m in charge of develop­ ment. I supervise human development programs that are directly involved with the people.” Rose came to CAP in 1985 at Father Beiting’s urging. With her degree in education and years of experience in human services, Father Beiting saw the assets she would bring to CAP’s programs. Coming from a background of direct contact, administration was a new challenge for her, though. She agreed to try an administrative position for two years but thought to herself, “If I win the sweepstakes, I’m gone.” Rose says that as an administrator, she is on the backlines, filling in the cracks, sometimes making de­ cisions that are unpopular. She is the one who, for example, decides “who will get the only available re­ frigerator.” Rose also sees her job as steward because, as she says, “It is our job to help programs run smoothly and do what they are supposed to do. We don’t see ourselves as experts: we are challenged all of the time.” She and senior director of Martin Operations Mike Sanders share the major decisions. “Mike and I are very much involved in the hiring of staff. Major decisions are a team effort,” Rose stated. Her job description also includes supervising CAP volunteers in Martin. “The volunteer program gives CAP a vitality, a different perspective. Volunteers have creativity and present new and exciting ideas,” Rose said. Volunteers don’t run the programs: employ­ ees are hired to manage and volunteers work under their supervision. Rose says this arrangement lends stability and consistency programs.

Rose Price

than a family,” she said. “There was pressure, not just freedom. I got a real strong influence from the women’s movement and found that balancing home, child, and a briefcase is not a bowl of cherries, it’s a balancing act. Today, I would like more women to have more freedom of choice,” Rose said. The two years she gave Father Beiting are long passed. Today, Rose is happy to have stayed in Eastern Kentucky. She says, “I feel lucky to be here because of the natural beauty. I am a part of the people. I know my culture now. These feelings are a surprise to what I thought as a teenager and young adult. Now, I plan to stay at CAP until I am able to retire. If I won the sweepstakes now, I ’d still work here three days a week!”

Because of volunteers and donations,“CAP pro­ vides services in the area with a style no one else can provide. W e’re not federal, so we can afford to look at every person on an individual basis. The freedom our donors give us allows us to use our own judgement rather than a manual. This is unique in human services, but there are still many unmet needs.” Before Rose and the people she works with develop a new program to meet these needs, they must make sure that the present programs are strong and likely to endure. Away from the office and job responsibilities, Rose enjoys her home life and with Phil and their 11-yearold son. “Wife and mother” are roles that Rose enjoys very much, despite the fact that she grew up at a time when young women “were pushed into a career rather

November-December 1 9 9 0

“ Major decisions are a team effort.”

15

Around the Project

by the CAP News Service

Tyner Workers Hold Open House Nearly 250 people attended the Jobs Fair and Open House at CAP’s craft factory in Tyner, Kentucky, in September. Workers in CAP’s mar­ keting division, Christmas Ridge Handcrafts, were particularly anx­ ious to share the new mechanical aspects of operation. Despite the new automation, the CAP wreaths are still crafted indi­ vidually, by hand, by the workers of Jackson County. Some of the work­ ers have been involved with the wreath-making operation for nearly 20 years. The mechanization involves mov­ ing materials (metal rings, fir, pines, berries and bows) around the factory from station to station by conveyor. With the time savings realized by the new system, the number of wreaths produced will be able to increase from 73,000 produced last year to 90,000 to 100,000 this year, requir­ ing construction of about 3,000 wreaths per day. CAP began producing Christmas wreaths in an abandoned bam in 1968 with 25 workers. In 1974 Gene Hensley began working as the only full time employee of the wreath op­ eration. “When I came in 1974, we made 6,500,” Gene said. “The success of this operation has been the quality of work given by the people of Jackson County.” Jackson County is one of the least developed counties in Kentucky, with a high unemployment and drop out rates. Seasonal wreath production is the only job that some workers have for the entire year. As CAP contin­ ues to expand wreath production, additional full time as well as part time workers are needed from the area. 16

People who have worked in the wreath factory for many years explained and demonstrated their technique to visitors who attended the recent open house at Tyner.

Child Development Staff Recognized by Peers CAP child development staff and programs are being recognized re­ gionally for work with pre-school children. CAP realizes that giving children a good start in primary school will carry them far as they progress through the school system. Shortly after the beginning of the school year June Widman partici­ pated in the fifth annual Conference on Appalachia, sponsored by the Appalachian Center of the Univer­ sity of Kentucky. The theme of the conference changes each year; in 1990 it focused on Appalachian chil­ dren. June was a member of a panel which presented the work and phi­ losophies of the Eastern Kentucky Childcare Coalition, a group of people involved in organizations that pro­ vide childcare. “Ric Armstrong (a CAP worker who does some con­ sulting with other organizations) con­ nected people working with chil­ dren, and before he knew it, we made it official, incorporated, and hired an organizer.”

June said that the goal of the coa­ lition is to provide safe, appropriate child care. “There’s very little li­ censed care in the mountains. W e’ll encourage women to become licensed as small home-based child care pro­ viders. “The groups that came together were already working in childcare, so at the conference we’re sharing expertise about how the coalition came together and why.” The Children’s Discovery Center in Somerset was invited to partici­ pate in the STEPS (Sequenced Tran­ sition to Public Education in the Public Schools) outreach program in Pulaski County. The program is a model that was developed in Lex­ ington, Kentucky, between 1984 and 1987 and involves school admini­ stration staffs, teachers and parents in activities that “successfully tran­ sition children with developmental delays or handicapping conditions from pre-school to public kindergar­ ten.” The program in Lexington selected Pulaski County as one of its five outreach sites because of “a good Pulaski Pre-School Inter-agency The Mountain Spirit

around the project. . . continued Council,” according to Sarah Dixon, manager of the Children’s Discov­ ery Center. The Pulaski County schools, schools in Somerset (the county seat), Lake Cumberland Head Start and Cumberland Child Care Plus, a divi­ sion of the Pulaski County Mental Health and Retardation Board, are participating as well as the CAP child development center. “We were the only private pre­ school asked to participate because we provide child development in­ stead of day care, and w e’ve been involved with handicapped kids since our school opened,” Sarah said. The teachers and administrators involved with the program meet a minimum of once each month, Sarah said, and share materials and train­ ing for delayed or handicapped chil­ dren. “It’s a big honor to have been asked, and already w e’ve learned a lot about making the transition to public school with the least bit of anxiety for children and parents.”

Sarah said that one of the most valuable aspects of the training has been actually meeting the people who will be teaching her students next year. “And it’s good for them to meet us, and learn about the kinds of things that the kids are doing right now.”

G ift A nnu ities

Sarah said that it is not uncom­ mon for teachers to be unaware of handicapping conditions that may be present in students in their classes. This can be especially difficult in the case of physical handicaps. She said she has heard several cases of the enrollment of a physically handi­ capped child, and “There’s that teacher, with a child in a wheelchair at the door, totally unprepared to make the adjustments that need to be met. That’s not good for the teacher or the student, either one.” The STEPS outreach program will be an ongoing project for the teach­ ers and students of Pulaski County. “I can’t say enough about how great it is to be in a organization that has one thing in mind: to do the best we can for these kids, to find the prob­ lems and work through them,” Sarah said.

A gift annuity to the Chris­ tian A ppalachian Project will help us continue to provide em ploym ent opportunities to A ppalachian people. This ac­ tivity is an essential p art o f o u r m ission to help people help themselves. But, w hat is a gift annuity? It’s a legal agreem ent by which you m ake a gift to CAP an d re­ ceive a guaranteed life incom e in return. For a m ore com plete expla­ nation, write today for your free copy o f “Giving T hro u g h Gift A nnuities” by filling o u t the co upon below and enclos­ ing it in the envelope provided. Clip an d send N am e______ A d d re ss____ C ity ________ State, Z ip __ Date o f Birth

Jean Barnes, who manages the Eagle Child Development Center in McCreary County, worked with handicapped children during her time at the Children's Discovery Center, in Somerset.

November-December 1 9 9 0

T elephone _ 17

around the project. . . continued

Outreach Workers to Try New Program Daisy lives in Lincoln County, Kentucky, with her 18-year-old son, Stephen. Daisy, a single parent, re­ ceived Aid to Families with De­ pendent Children until Stephen’s 18th birthday, but lost that source of in­ come after that time. Before his birthday, though, Daisy incurred an accident which broke her knee and crushed her ankle. Marie Bonner, CAP’s outreach worker in Lincoln and Garrard County, began working with Daisy in August of 1990. Her largest proj­ ect, to date, has been helping Daisy to re-apply for Supplemental Secu­ rity Income, which would also in­ clude Medicaid. Currently, Daisy cannot afford medical insurance, a particularly large problem, because of her health.

Moving?

“She was turned down once be­ fore,” Marie said, “because the state didn’t think she would be disabled for 12 months. If she doesn’t get some physical therapy for that knee, she’s going to be disabled a lot longer than that. Right now she can’t bend her knee, so she can’t get around at all. In fact, she can’t even leave home, because she can’t get into a car. When she goes to the doctor or the hospital, they have to have an ambulance.” Marie arranged for the workers from the social insurance office to visit Daisy in her home, so that they could see her needs for themselves. “I’m sure when they re-evaluate, she’ll be approved,” Marie said. In order to obtain the needed physi­ cal therapy, Daisy needed to see doctors who are affiliated with a local hospital that has a physical therapy department. CAP was able

to pay for her doctors’ visit, and helped her have her x-rays and rec­ ords transferred from another clinic. “We don’t usually pay phone bills for people,” Marie explained, say­ ing that there are often more press­ ing needs. “We made an exception in this case, though. If Daisy was to fall or the house to catch fire when she was alone, she couldn’t get out.” Marie said that Daisy will be con­ sidered when the outreach workers begin to decide on “target families” in each of their counties. In conjunc­ tion other CAP programs, outreach workers will identify families that would like to systematically set goals and determine the steps that they need to take to attain self-sufficiency. If education is needed, for example, CAP will offer to help with GED studies; if home repair is needed, that service will be available, if the family wishes.

Please notify us of change of address to make sure you re­ ceive every issue of The Mountain Spirit.

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Mail to: The Mountain Spirit,

322 Crab Orchard Road Lancaster, KY 40446. 18

Over 100 workers from the Garrard County area joined workers from the Floyd County area for a home repair day in August. Crews of eight to ten repaired eight houses in the county, under the direction of home repair workers. The day began with a prayer service led by Father Beiting.

The Mountain Spirit

around the project. . . continued “Normally, we’re only able to help a family three times in two years, but with a target family we’ll pull to­ gether with the family, see what CAP programs they need, and if they need something we don’t have, we’ll talk to other agencies.”

workshop for handicapped workers in Lincoln County, is a busy place with up to 20 people painting pine cones and tying holly berries to­ gether, to be used on the 100,000 Christmas wreaths that Christmas Ridge Handcrafts plans to produce.

Marie stressed that the families will set their own goals, both long and short term, and that the ultimate goal will be self-sufficiency.

During the summer months, one of the special employees of the work­ shop was John Paul Miller, an 18year-old high school student. J.P., as he is known to everyone, is confined to a wheelchair because of cerebral palsy, talks though a computer which has voice capabilities and has lim­ ited use of his hands. These condi­ tions don’t stop him from wanting to work, though. When he was inter­ viewing for his job with CAPrice J.P. said he was tired of asking his

CAPrice Trainees Have Supported Employment CAPrice Industries, CAP’s train­ ing program for handicapped adults, provides training for people with many degrees of handicapping con­ ditions. One component, a sheltered

dad for money and wanted to earn some himself. This is the attitude of most of the workers involved with the supported employment division of CAPrice Industries. Because of physical or mental handicaps, they have had limited employment opportunities, but the supported employment pro­ gram enables them to earn money and learn about the different aspects of successfully holding a job.

Excuse Us! The “Operation Sharing” story in the September-October issue listed the original gift to the in-kind dona­ tion distribution program as $2 mil­ lion. The gift was valued at $4.6 million. Please excuse our error!

Share The Mountain Spirit this Christmas! C ited fo r g o o d w riting, su p erb graphics and “near-m ystical” quality p h o to g rap h y , The M ountain Spirit was reco g n ized fo r the th ird consecutive year fo r G eneral Excellence fo r m ission m agazines by the C atholic Press A ssociation. Share th a t excellence, an d C A P’s story, with yo u r frien d s this C hristm as. For only $9.00, you can sp re ad The M ountain Spirit to two h o u seh o ld s (th a t’s a dollar o ff the usual su b scrip tio n price!), an d share stories like the ones y o u ’ve read in this issue. A nd in the co m in g year learn m o re a b o u t C A P’s M ission S tatem en t (the Jan u a ry issue), its v o lu n te e r p ro ­ gram (the May issue), a n d eco n o m ic de­ v elo p m en t in A ppalachia (the S ep tem b er issue). “R eading T h e M o u n tain S pirit is the n ex t b est th in g to a visit!” read ers tell us. Share th a t en th u siasm w ith y o u r friends an d family, w o n ’t you? W e’ll a n n o u n ce y o u r gifts w ith a specially d esig n ed C hristm as card, an d y o u r C hristm as greetings will accom pany The M ountain Spirit the w hole year th rough! November-December 1 9 9 0

19

Volunteers: Faith and Prayer by Carla Durand

Knock, knock. “Five minutes ‘til prayer,” hollers Colleen as she repeats the message throughout the house. After all six volunteers settle into comfortable positions in the living room, Colleen begins evening prayer. “I have Jesus ‘ashada’.” Everyone looks at her quizzically before someone asks what that means. “Well, in Italian ‘ashada’ means overflowing. I ’m overflowing with Jesus right now!” Colleen shares Amy Grant’s lively tune, “Sing Your Praise to the Lord.” A reading and discussion about praising God follows. Vi comments that after a long and hectic day, the tension has begun to leave her body. A sense of peacefulness and tranquility fill the air; a time for mind and body to relax and focus on God. This is a common scene: evening prayers at a volun­ teer house. Christians praying together, reflecting, and discussing—teaching each other how to pray and praise. Volunteers live together in community. They par­ ticipate in group prayer, eat together, and share house­ hold responsibilities. They have come together and are bonded by a common focus, forming a faith commu­ nity in which they pray, play and work together. Volunteers come to this unique region of the country for many reasons, bringing with them different beliefs, ideas, values, and experiences. Still, they are able to focus on at least one thing that they share: faith and Christianity. By no means do all volunteers share the same denomination nor do all believe the same specif­ ics of a particular faith, but all share one Lord. As it says in Ephesians 4:4-5, “We are all parts of one body, we have the same Spirit and we have all been called to the same glorious future. For us there is only one Lord, one faith, one baptism As of this writing, there are 30 CAP volunteers, from Michigan, Iowa, Minnesota, North Dakota, New Jer­ sey, New York, Connecticut, to name a few. They come from rural and urban backgrounds, wealthy and working-class families; they are young and old, quiet and outgoing; their reasons for volunteering are many.

20

Some come for humanitarian reasons, some for social justice reasons, still others for religious reasons. Some volunteers have felt a strong urge , a pull, or a calling from God to serve; others want to give back in gratitude for God’s many blessings. Many come be­ cause it is an important step in the journey of their spiritual growth. A Christian community offers a nurturing environ­ ment for spiritual growth. It encourages spiritual en­ hancement through interaction with other Christians. While there is plenty of time for group discussion, there is also room for personal reflection. As each volunteer is responsible for leading daily prayer on a rotating basis, each person is able to share his or her own spirituality. Volunteers frequently draw these beliefs from personal experiences and perspec­ tives. What a joy to see how all these different expres­ sions blend together in near perfect rhythm and song! While some sing the melody, others sing the harmony. The combination is beautiful. Prayer can be so exciting! At times, prayer sessions are vibrant, enthusiastic and crea­ tive. Songs are sung, funny stories are shared, and the days’ events are relayed. Other times, prayer can be quiet, peaceful, and reflective, of­ fering time for personal meditation. Regardless how prayer manifests, whether through an upbeat song, a quiet moment, or a discussion of political and social ideolo­ gies, group prayer offers sup­ port and guidance. It helps the community to remain fo­ cused on God and ensures God’s presence within the community. For in Matthew 18:20 Jesus says, “Where two or three are gathered in My name, I am there in the midst of them.”

The Mountain Spirit

Volunteers express their spirituality not only through song, Scripture, or quiet moments, but through service and work that makes Jesus visible to all. Little things like sharing a smile with an elderly person, hugging a child, or listening to a depressed shut-in demonstrate faith in action. One volunteer remarked that all her actions are done to please God. She said that even the most tedious job, like hauling out the garbage, is done for Him. Volunteers try to remain spiritually focused in rec­ reation, too. Recently, some volunteers went explor­ ing in a cave. As we were joking, laughing, climbing, and crawling around the cave, we decided to take time out to pray. What a wonderful experience to share with a group of friends, and only the bats and cave crickets there to listen! There are other times, as well, when prayer happens spontaneously. One evening a simple game of “Scruples” evolved into a discussion that covered a wide range of topics for several hours! These types of experiences allow spiritual growth to take place. It is important to focus our attention on God daily, knowing that God is responsible for giving us the opportunity and privilege to serve in this area. The privilege became clear to me on a Saturday trip to paint, clean, and repair the home of an elderly couple. Everyone gathered at one of the volunteer houses in the morning to prepare for the day. At the time, many of the volunteers were not very well acquainted with each other so, at first, the room was

pretty quiet. When everyone began working on a common project with a common goal, the dynamics of the group began to change. People joked, laughed, and enjoyed each other’s company. After lunch, the couple shared some Scripture with our group, then we finished for the afternoon. When our work was completed, we shared the evening meal and played football until dark. A bond was formed and a sense of community devel­ oped, a sense of spirit and fellowship which carried us through the day and into the evening, and, I suspect, will carry us many months into the future. It was a grand opportunity to put faith into action. The song “Mountain Top,” a song I first heard at evening prayer, has become a favorite of mine since moving to Kentucky. The following verses are from the song: “I love to stand on a mountain top fellowshipping with the Lord. I love to stand on a mountain top ‘cuz I love to feel my spirits soar. But now I’ve got to come down from that mountain top to the people in the valley below, or they’ll never know that they can go to the mountain of the Lord.” Those verses reflect the lifestyle that CAP volun­ teers work toward every day, a Christian lifestyle strengthened through prayer and service in this moun­ tainous region, intertwined with the support of com­ munity members. It means giving of oneself, no strings attached, to help make another’s journey on earth a little more joyful. To this end, we strive to make our lives a prayer. Through our service we are able to let “our light shine.” As it says in Matthew 5: 14-16, “Ye are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Neither do they light a candle and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it gives light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before all that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” If our work and service continues with this Scripture in mind and our eyes focused on the Lord, we have reached our goal of service for God’s glory, knowing that we will not be overburdened for “there is nothing that you, God, and I can’t handle.”

The Renfro Valley Volunteer community gathers for prayer and discussion each evening after supper. This evening's dis­ cussion centered upon The Lord’s Prayer. Pictured at the far left is Carla Durand, author of “Volunteers: Faith and Prayer.”

November-December 1 9 9 0

21

A White Sports Coat by Garry Barker

T h e year Harper Watts made a deal with Otto Wilson to live rent-free in return for fixing up the abandoned old farmhouse was the year Vernon Watts was an eighth grader, six gangly feet of awkward knees and elbows and a blushing aware­ ness that girls were somehow different. It was the year of Elvis rocking on the radio, of Marty Robbins crooning about “A White Sports Coat,” of Ted Kluzewski hammering the baseball for the Cincinnati Reds. Ducktailed, sidebumed, third baseman for the Hilltop School Wildcats, Vernon Watts was learning to shave cautiously with Harper’s heavy brass razor, to shift gears in the blue cigar-shaped Buick Roadmaster, to smoke stolen Lucky Strike cigarettes, and to nervously take part in the kissing games which were part of every community gathering. Vernon had grown a foot taller in less than year, sprouted chinwhiskers and chest hair, and suffered through a change of voice and outlook. He was on the verge of something. Vernon didn’t know exactly what it was, but whatever was coming had something to do with leaving part of life as he knew it behind. Most of the rapid changes, Vernon decided were good. For one thing, he could hit a baseball and now was chosen first instead of last. He was on the school team, playing third with the old first baseman’s mitt, batting cleanup. Against the Plummers Mills school he’d hit three line drives off the schoolhouse roof but been more concerned with the three girls who sat close to third base and giggled as they sprawled to flash skinny legs and white cotton underwear. Watching, blushing, Vernon had made a reflex catch of a hard-hit ball down the line but then self-consciously spun and 22

slung the ball twenty feet over the first baseman’s head. Late in the game Vernon came on to pitch and struck out the first two batters before nerves and the watching girls got to him. Two walks and a hit batter loaded the bases, and the next hitter waited for a waist-high fastball. The home run cost Hilltop School the game and ended Vernon’s pitching career, but Edna Watson consoled him down the ravine in right field. Edna stuck her tongue in Vernon’s mouth and bit his ear before he retreated to catch the bus home and lie awake all night twisting restlessly. By Monday morning Edna was mysteriously aloof, the other girls giggled whenever they saw Vernon, and he was simply confused. Vernon’s confusion multiplied when Miss Cook, the teacher, unveiled a graduation program she’d ordered and informed Vernon that—as class valedictorian—he would memorize and deliver the pre-written speech. “Why me?” he asked weakly. “The valedictorian is the person the class with the best grades,” said Miss Cook. “That’s you. You’ll make the speech right after the principal finishes his talk.” “In front of all the people?” asked Vernon. Miss Cook smiled. “You’ll do fine, Vernon. Just memorize the speech, the way you did your part in the school play. You’ve got three weeks to get ready.” Vernon numbly told his mother what was happen­ ing. Elsie was delighted. “You’ll do good,” she told Vernon. “But we’ve got to get you some decent clothes.” “Clothes?” Vernon stared. “Do I have to dress up?” The Mountain Spirit

“Of course you do,” said Elsie. “How?” asked Vernon. “I ain’t got a suit.” “W e’ll take care of that right now,” said Elsie. She reached for the Montgomery Ward catalog. “It’s high time we got you one. Next year you’ll be in high school. Which of these do you like?” Vernon selected a white sports coat and gray trousers, twenty dollars worth. Elsie, who’d never heard of Marty Robbins or Patsy Cline and their song, scowled. “Are you sure? A nice blue suit would be lots better for more stuff.” “Does the white one cost too much?” asked Vernon. “I can pay on time,” said Elsie, “if it’s what you want.” Elsie sent in the order with a five dollar down payment and Vernon started memorizing his speech. At the Hilltop School in 1956, eighth grade gradu­ ation was a major community event, complete with diplomas, speeches, and a jammed lunchroom. Fewer than a fourth of the new graduates would go on to the Finch County High School. Most would accept their places on the farms, as field workers and housewives, young adults in a society which saw little need for schooling past eight years. Vernon Watts was part of an exception to the rule. Already his older sister and brother were high school students, struggling with an accepted bias against students from the tiny rural elementary school. Vernon, winner of a statewide essay competition as a sixth grader and acknowledged as the best speller, math student, and writer in the county, was expected to bring some overdue glory and status to remote Hilltop School. There was even talk of college someday for the shy youngster, talk which Elsie Watts discouraged. “College is for rich people,” she told Vernon gently. “W e’ll be doing good just to get you through high school. Don’t get your hopes up too much for something that can’t be.” She sighed and recited the familiar refrain. “God must love poor people, He made so many of us. W e’ll do our best, Vernon, but don’t get your heart set on college.” Vernon didn’t really question Elsie’s advice. Priscilla and Roy brought home tales of ridicule from the town kids, who were obviously a superior group with more clothes, money, and cars than Vernon had ever seen. That sounded scary enough. November-December 1 9 9 0

Considering college was beyond Vernon’s imagina­ tion. The needs of rural Finch County were served well enough, most thought, by basic reading and arithme­ tic and enough writing to get by. Bushels, pounds, and acres were far more important than poetry or art. After graduation there would be, for a few years before the draft or the lure of Ohio factories took the young men away, welcome fulltime help with tobacco and com crops. Many of the girls would marry immediately after eighth grade, and those who didn’t were needed to help with the canning, cooking, and endless cycle of chores. The girls were destined to loose their youthful bloom far too soon to the rigors of childbirth and hard farm living, to become old women at thirty and wom-out shells at forty. Of Vernon’s class of war babies, largest in the school’s history, most of those who would go on to school were the fortunate sons and daughters of the few well-to-do landowners and storekeepers in the rugged eastern end of Finch County. A few more, like the children of Harper and Elsie Watts, would go on to high school regardless of the sacrifice. Harper saw education as the only way out of the cycle of poverty, the one way his children could rise above tenant farming and day labor. Others did not agree. “The ones that get school­ ing, they all leave,” complained neighbor Jess Jackson. “They get over yonder at that high school and get to wanting too much, and the next thing you know your youngens is off in a factory somewheres in Detroit. A body can’t farm if he has to hire the work done. That oldest boy of yours, Harper, is already chomping at the bit, wanting to tinker with cars all the time. Roy ain’t every gonna farm. The other one, Vernon, I hear he’s got to be such a scholar that he ain’t much help at all. How are you going to raise a crop when they leave?” “I growed tobacco before I growed youngens,” grinned Harper, “So did you Jess. And I reckon if my boys decide to go away I won’t try to stop ‘em. And I ’ll get ‘em through high school so they’ll have a better chance.” Harper sighed. “What’s wrong with our youngens wanting what everybody else has got?” “They ain’t a thing wrong with that,” snorted Jackson. “I just don’t like for ‘em to get above their

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She sighed and repeated the familiar refrain. "God must love poor people, he made so many of us." raising. My Lucy, the oldest, I let her go one year of high school and she got to talking about going to college over at Morehead and making a teacher. I ain’t got money for that. And if Lucy was to get through, first thing you know she’d be heading across the river to work up in Ohio.” “I don’t want mine to leave,” Harper said softly, “but what is there here for them? Working like you and me, trying to scratch a living out of a hillside? Getting a little bit more behind every year, no matter how hard you go at it? If I had land to give the boys it might be different, and maybe I’d want ‘em to stay here and work it. But I ain’t got a pot to pee in, Jess, and neither have you. All we can give our girls and boys is a chance to do better. “I ain’t against schooling,” protested Jess. “Had six years myself, and I ’m a fair hand to figure and read. What more does a body need?” “Times have changed, Jess,” said Harper. “What school you and me had ain’t enough now. Maybe it’ll be our youngens that’ll figure out how to bring more work in here, more than just day labor. Maybe they can learn us how to make money farming. We ain’t done very good at it, have we?” Jackson snorted. “We feed ‘em, don’t we?” “Just barely,” Harper said wearily. “Just barely, Jess.” “You mark my words,” Jess said firmly. “That boy of yours, Vernon, the one that’s giving the graduation speech and wins all the prizes, he won’t set foot back in Finch County after he’s growed. He’ll be too damned good for the likes of us.” “I hope that ain’t the case,” said Harper. “But if it was to come to that, I’d just set back and be proud of him, and know that I helped him get there. If Vernon has to leave to find what he’s looking for, then that’s what he has to do. If he didn’t have a mind of his own, I don’t reckon he’d be mine and Elsie’s anyhow.” “You got a peculiar way of seeing things, Harper,” Jess said wearily. “But we’re jumping the gun anyway. Vernon don’t even graduate eighth grade for another week.” Vernon, happily ignorant of the discussion of his future, had already committed his speech to mem­ ory. He didn’t know what some of the words meant, or just how to say them, but he did have them all in the right order and could say them loud. 24

The package came from Montgomery Ward, and Elsie made Vernon wash before he tried on the pants and jacket. The coat hung baggy over Vernon’s thin shoulders, and the gray pants were four inches too big around at the waist. “They don’t make britches for people as tall and skinny as you and Roy,” fussed Elsie. “These was the least ones around the waist that had long enough legs.” She measured, pinned up the waistband, and barely tacked the cloth together. “Is that all?” protested Vernon. “They’ll bust loose. My britches will fall off while I ’m up front of all them people.” “No they won’t,” said Elsie, her voice muffled by a mouth full of pins. “Hold still. And don’t get these things dirty.” Monday before graduation was Eighth Grade Day at the Finch County High School, a day when every potential freshman was bussed to the big WPA schoolhouse in Finchburg. For four hours the scrubbed and nervous eighth graders were guided through long hallways to experience the wonders of high school. The little library, the science classroom, and the gym impressed Vernon to no end. In the lunchroom he self-consciously ate soup beans and boiled wieners and watched the flow of sophisticated high schoolers. Vernon saw Roy but Roy wouldn’t even speak. Prissy introduced Vernon to her friends, seniors at the school, who giggled as his ears burned bright red. One blonde made a joke about robbing the cradle and snuggled close enough to give Vernon a whiff of heady perfume and musky female odors. Vernon strutted back to the bus and was still feeling cocky as they unloaded back at Hilltop School. Chester Conners, a hulking sixteen year old classmate held back three times, took exception to Vernon’s arrogant excitement about high school and told him so. Vernon bristled, his good sense dimmed by the presence of Edna Watson and her friends and the excitement, and he counter-attacked. “We ain’t all too dumb to go to high school,” Vernon told Chester. “Some of us can read and write.” “Did you say I was dumb?” growled Chester. He shoved Vernon against the wall. “Well? Did you?” Vernon gulped and started sweating. Edna Watson came up close. “Don’t let old Chester push you around, Vernon,” Edna snapped. With her hands on her hips, Edna waited. Vernon closed his eyes and The Mountain Spirit

swung. Chester, happily surprised to get hit first, punched Vernon in the belly. The next thing Vernon saw—and the last thing—was Chester’s right first slashing toward his face. Vernon woke up on the oiled oak floor, sur­ rounded by anxious teacher and classmates. Vernon felt for this nose, found it, and stared at the fresh blood on his hand. Miss Cook and two boys helped Vernon up, and he saw for the first time the blood down the front of his best shirt and jeans. Vernon staggered back into a chair. Edna Watson proceeded to give Chester Conners an angry tongue-lashing. Chester, confused and frightened, was led away to the principal’s office. Vernon, for being foolish enough to attack a classmate three years older and sixty pounds heavier, got the hero’s treatment. The girls and smaller children ogled the blood and Vernon’s swollen face, and the boys offered to gang up and whip Chester. Edna stood proudly close and basked in Vernon’s newfound glory. She sat beside him on the bus home and nobody teased Vernon about it. Elsie’s reception was less admiring. “You’ve ruined your best school clothes,” she muttered as she put the bloodstained the shirt and pants into cold water to soak. “Fighting at school.” Elsie shook her head in disgust. “I thought you was different, Ver­ non.” Harper, with a puzzled grin, inspected Vernon’s nose. “What I want to know,” said Harper, “is what does the other feller look like?” “Chester got a sore hand,” laughed Roy, “where Vernon hit him with that big old nose.” But outside, after supper, Roy asked about he necessary venge­ ance. “Me and Joe will stomp Chester,” growled Roy. “W e’ll hold him while you hit him.” “But I started the fight,” protested Vernon. “I hit Chester first.” Roy stared. “You? Hit Chester Conners? He’s bigger than I am.” “I hit him,” Vernon said dully. Roy grinned, “You ain’t got much sense, Vernon, but you sure ain’t a sissy. Me and Joe will help you next time.” “Ain’t going to be no next time,” said Vernon. Roy shrugged. “Don’t ever say I didn’t offer.” The next morning Vernon held his breath as he climbed onto the bus, but Chester Conners wasn’t in November-December 1 9 9 0

his usual back seat. Vernon relaxed and spent the day enjoying the respect his swollen face brought. At recess Edna ran her hands gently over the bruises, and planted a firm kiss on Vernon’s cheek. He blushed and retreated. “Don’t you like getting kissed?” asked Edna. “Yeah,” Vernon grinned foolishly. “I’ll do better than that little old peck,” said Edna, “at my party Friday night.” “ P a rty ? ” “At our house Friday night after graduation,” Edna said smugly. “Will you come?” “How am I supposed to get there?” asked Vernon. “They can drop you off on the way home,” said Edna. “Don’t you want to come, Vernon?” “I want to.” Vernon fidgeted. “What do you do at a party?” “Play games,” teased Edna. “I’ll teach you.” Elsie Watts did not like the idea of a party for eighth graders at the Watson home. “Let the boy go,” chuckled Harper. “He’s big enough.” “It ain’t Vernon that worries me,” sniffed Elsie. “It’s that sassy little Edna Watson.” Harper grinned. “I recollect a sassy girl I knowed once.” Elsie blushed. “That was different.” On graduation night Vernon dressed carefully, in Roy’s new white shirt which was only a little bit too big and his new clothes. “You still didn’t fix these,” said Vernon as he pulled on the gray pants. “They’re still not sewed good.” “They’ll do,” said Elsie. She stood back to admire him. “My, but don’t you look all grown up.” Vernon tugged at Harper’s tie and shuffled. “Feels awful.” “Better get yourself used to it,” beamed Harper. “One of these days that’s what you’ll wear all of the time.” “Not me,” grunted Vernon. The school lunchroom was jammed with sweaty parents and relatives as the graduating class marched proudly into place. Chester Conners was missing, but thirty-five blushing eighth graders were present for the honors. When the time came Vernon recited his speech, there was much applause. Few, including Vernon, had any idea what he had just said, but everyone agreed he said it well despite a slight lisp attributed to the swelling in his face. 25

The diplomas were handed out to much yelling and clapping. Then it was over. For most of the class, school was over. Forever. Harper dropped Vernon off at the Watson farm. “Don’t mess up the clothes,” warned Elsie “walk home on the road instead of coming through the woods.” Inside Vernon took a glass of Kool-Aid and sat stiffly, watching. Some were dancing. One group of boys went outside to smoke. Girls clumped together, boys huddled in a group. Edna broke the stalemate. “Let’s play post office,” she suggested. The kissing game rotated until Vernon was in the dark pantry with Edna. She attacked more with enthusiasm than skill, and her sharp little teeth cut Vernon’s bruised lip. He pulled away and Edna pursued. Somebody banged on the door. “Let’s go out the window,” whispered Edna. She was already climbing, strong leges bared as she straddled the windowjamb. “Come on, Vernon.” In the comcrib Edna came swarming to Vernon. He froze when she guided his hand to her small breast. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “I better go,” Vernon said. “Why?” pouted Edna. “I thought you liked me.” “I do,” stammered Vernon. “I don’t bite,” said Edna. She grinned. “Not much.” Two hours later, dazed, Vernon walked the three miles home. On the road, as Elsie had ordered. Elsie was awake, waiting. “Give me the pants,” she said. Vernon emptied his pockets and stepped out. Elsie inspected the trousers and laughed at Vernon, standing crosslegged in his underwear. “Go to bed,” Elsie said gently. She smiled. But first go wipe that lipstick off of your face.” Saturday morning Vernon slept late, wondering when he saw sunshine why Harper hadn’t got him up to work, and went downstairs. Elsie was busy with needle and thread, working on the gray pants. “How does it feel?” she asked Vernon. “How does what feel?” “Why, being an eighth grade graduate,” beamed Elsie. “That’s what.” “Why are you sewing on my britches now?” asked Vernon. “It’s all over.” “I know what I’m doing,” said Elsie. She had removed the darts she’d used to make the pants smaller at the waist, and had reattached every tag and label. “I’m sending these back. For the same money we can get you school clothes for a whole year.” 26

“Can you do that?” asked Vernon. “I wore them.” “That’s why I said to be careful,” beamed Elsie. She still had original wrappings, and was carefully folding the jacket. “When would you ever wear this again?” “I don’t know,” blurted Vernon, “but it ain’t right to send them back after I wore them.” Elsie stiffened. “Being a eighth grade graduate don’t make you big enough to tell me what’s right and what ain’t.” “I don’t reckon,” Vernon said softly, “that being a eighth grade graduate makes me big enough to do anything,” He went outside and found his old dog Rex and sat humped up with him in the sunshine. Somehow this special day, this day when he was supposed to feel so proud, was turning out wrong. Vernon’s face was sore, and his lips were chapped from Edna’s enthusiasm. Maybe, figured Vernon, he’d be better off to be like Chester Conners, who now could just farm all the time. Or like Edna, who would probably get married in a year so. Maybe all Miss Cook’s talk about high school and college was really just dreaming, after all. Maybe. Vernon hugged Rex closer, and the dog growled a goodnatured warning. “Not you too,” wailed Vernon. Rex solemnly licked Vernon’s face. “Don’t let that dog lick on you,” scolded Elsie. “No telling what he’s been eating.” She handed Vernon a package and a limp dollar bill. “Take this to the mailbox.” As he walked, scuffing dust with his heavy workshoes, Vernon laughed at the gloomy dog who tracked at his heels. “What’s wrong with you?” asked Vernon. “Go chase a rabbit. I don’t need your help.” Rex cocked a puzzled ear to listen. “Go kill a groundhog.” Rex sat down and stared up at Vernon. Vernon giggled, and Rex thumped his tail. “You fool,” laughed Vernon. “Get up from there.” Vernon made a quick move and Rex skipped sideways, barked happily, circled and attacked from the rear. Vernon and Rex played in dusty confusion, mixing laughter and frantic yelping. Harper Watts, watching from the hillside, leaned on his plow to rest and smile. “Play every chance you get, son,” Harper said softly. “You got precious little playtime left now.” In time Vernon retrieved the brown package and slapped off the dust. He trudged on toward the mailbox, stooped and slow, on his way now to mail the packet to Chicago and get back—in a week or so—the dreary work clothes of reality.

The Mountain Spirit

YES! “O u r house b u rn ed down last night. N obody was hurt, b u t w e’ve lost everything. Can you help?” “I have a d o cto r’s appo in tm en t 50 miles away. Gas is so high, it’ll cost me $25 to fill my tank. C ould you take m e?” “My m o th er lives 100 miles away from me, and I’m afraid she’ll fall and h u rt herself. C ould you all check on h er every now and again?” W orkers in CAP outreach program s handle problem s like these and m any m ore. Families we m eet because o f a specific em ergency (because no one else is able to help) are intro d u ced to o th er CAP services. Services like adult education and tutoring. H elp with gardening proj­ ects. O r elderly visitation. O u r o u treach program s are a real partnership. A partnership betw een CAP work­ ers, CAP d o nors an d area residents. O u r workers are always looking for creative ways to solve problem s. W ith only a little h an d up, area residents are eager to solve their own problem s. O u r d onors m ake the p artn ersh ip com e alive. They're the people who provide the resources need ed to give that helping h an d and provide the prayerful su p p o rt th at m ake o u r ou treach program s the “first line o f love” for people facing em ergency. H elp us say “Yes” to the next em ergency, w on’t you? Take a m inute to enclose $20, $25 . . . m ore, if you’re able . . . in the envelope in the fold o f the magazine. Because o f your love and generosity a CAP outreach w orker, o r any o th er w orker, will be able to say “Yes," in the face o f em er­ gency.

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The Mountain Spirit

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