Singing, Telling and Gathering in the Mountains

 The weather was perfect. The place was exactly right. The people were fine. The singing was superb. In other words, the weekend was about as excellent as I could have possibly imagined it to be.

We left early Friday afternoon after I finally finished up and e-filed our taxes. I was determined to not come back to that task waiting for me! We packed quickly and headed once more across West Virginia, our destination this time the gorgeous and homey Brazen Head Irish Pub and Inn in the mountains of Randolph county. Of course, I could not make the trip without stopping at a junk shop along the way, and so this rode with us into the mountains:

I wasn't sure what to expect of this trip. I had heard from a friend that a group of folksingers from the Washington DC area gathered each spring at the inn to sing for a whole weekend. I thought it sounded like heaven, but each year it seemed we had a conflict and could not attend. This year, however, the stars combined to make it possible and I grabbed the opportunity even though it meant yet another long trip this week. Our friend Jeff met us when we arrived and we quickly met several other attendees. Then we settled in for an evening of music.

And such music it was! Songs from the Civil War, silly children's songs, plaintive love ballads, country songs, parodies, and more. Everyone sang, and everyone sang along with everyone else. This group could pick up a melody and chorus faster than ice melting in boiling water! I loved every minute. I had to laugh when someone sang the country song "Crystal Chandelier"--little did they know there was an actual chandelier right outside in the parking lot! I gave up and went to bed around 1:00 am, and regretted it as soon as I was under the covers because I could hear the most amazing yodeling downstairs. Too tired to dress again and go back down, I laid there and listened, and finally drifted off.

Morning brought more singing for me, and ramp digging for Larry.You might remember my discussion of ramps in these posts.

Larry is like a kid at Christmas when ramp season arrives, and can't wait to get into the woods to find them. He returned with a huge bag full, which he shared with anyone brave enough to take them. We still brought back plenty for our own use.

I heard stories, too--the story of a mother who witnessed her son being taken to jail during the Occupy movement, the story of a tragic death, stories of World War II from a Jewish man who had been a child in London at the time of the war, stories behind songs and about singers. I believe that in order to be a good storyteller, I must first be a good listener, and I will remember the faces and the voices telling me stories I will not forget.

That evening was, guess what? More singing! I heard so many songs that I have never heard before, sung by  people who all shared a love for the old songs. I was invited to tell a ghost story, so I  told the story of Eaton's tunnel and then the one about Ikie's tomb. I went to bed filled with music and voices.

We woke this morning to a heavy frost coating the ground and the smell of sausage, coffee and blueberry pancakes wafting up from the kitchen. Will Fanning was the chef for the weekend--he is also the owner of the Brazen Head  and along with his wife Jill ensured we had everything we needed for a comfortable stay, and kept things running smoothly for us all weekend.

Our return trip included two more pleasures: the first was a visit I have been wanting to make for two years. We had stopped once at a fascinating country store called Sharp's Country Store, not far from the inn. During that visit the owner, Tom Shipley, told us some of his family's story, and also told me a strange tale about the death of a young woman in the family. The story remained with me, and I wanted to go back and hear more. Larry stopped the day before to see if Tom would have time for a visit, and was assured that we'd be more than welcome. So we once again stopped to see Tom, and he told me the story with more detail about the people involved that included a lot of his family history.

The tale also included a gravestone, and Tom asked, "Would you like to see it?" You know I did! So we all hopped into my little Buick and headed up a steep mountain road to the cemetery, which was located on the very top of the mountain.

We learned that his family owns about 1400 acres there, land that has been passed down from generation to generation. Tom is working hard to preserve that family history and the heritage he values.

When we came down from the mountain I realized what a gift I had been given--not just the story, but Tom's willingness to share his family with us. Such generosity is rare, and I treasure it.

I jotted notes quickly in my journal as we continued our way home across WV 150, otherwise known as the Scenic Highway. Remains of winter's snow still filled the ditches along the road that travels through the high country and offers breathtaking views of the valleys below.

When we eventually reached the highway, it was not long before we also reached one of my favorite places, a small picnic ground in this national forest area along the banks of the Cherry River. We had the place to ourselves; the park service had not yet officially opened it and the debris of winter's fallen limbs and trees still littered the place, but that was no problem for us.

We made quick sandwiches at a table beside the river, and speculated about the large cave-like opening in the hillside on the opposite side of the river. Was it a bear's den? I do believe it was, but did not take the footbridge across for a closer look!

And then, finally, we were home once again, greeted by happy pets, nodding flowers and the comfort of familiar things. We have rested this evening, but tomorrow we will begin getting ready for our visitors who will arrive on Friday, for next weekend's performance at the Parkersburg Celtic Festival with my friend, storyteller Lorna Czarnota, and for the house concert for her that we are giving here next Sunday. Life is never dull, and I am glad of it.

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Singing at the BrazenHead Inn

After the triathlon, the family returned to the BrazenHead Inn for an evening of music and fun. The inn's owners, Will and Jill Fanning, incorporate music into the inn's offerings as often as possible, and frequently provide it themselves since they are both gifted musicians.

Saturday night, however, Three Degrees of Hair was on stage. This diverse group from Beckley plays a wide range of music and we enjoyed all of it. They also did something pretty nice: they let some of us sing.

I was first, before even the band took to the stage. Since the tragedy at the Big Branch mine three weeks ago, the song by Jean Ritchie called West Virginia Mine Disaster was on my mind, and that is what I sang. It's powerful and moving, and I sang it in tribute to those miners and their families.

An hour or so later, we convinced Cassidy, Jon and Jennifer's daughter, to take the stage and sing one of her favorite songs, Free Falling. You can listen to her performance here thanks to cousin Emily's forethought to record Cassidy. Thank you, Emily!


Amy sang later on, a lovely ballad of love and longing.

What a group of guys, to allow us to be part of the evening's music. Special thanks to the Three Degrees of Hair for sharing the stage with us.

And still later, everyone in the place joined in on Country Roads. In this picture: James in front, then clockwise Aaron, Cassidy, Haley, Jennifer and Jared, with Emily in the far background.

The relaxed atmosphere and camaraderie made it feel like we were at home instead of 150 miles away in a log cabin tucked into a valley in the Randolph county mountains. That's what true mountain hospitality is, and it's what Will and Jill give to their customers in plenty.

(Do you see that orb floating over Amy's head? If I believed in such things, I might almost be convinced that Jon was there listening to the fun. Actually, I am convinced that he was with us in spirit, for an evening in which his name was much spoken and his life remembered with love. It doesn't take an orb to tell me so.)

The Brazen Head

A friend suggested that if we were ever in Pocahontas County, we should stay at the Brazen Head Inn. A library conference happened to be held at Snowshoe Resort, only a few miles away. Rather than stay at the resort (that word just makes me quail, don't know why), I made reservations for Larry and I at the Brazen Head.


What a good thing that turned out to be. Have you ever met someone who knows almost everyone you know, and yet somehow your paths never crossed? That's what happened at the Brazen Head. Our hosts, Will and Jill, knew many of the same people we did yet somehow we'd never met each other. That changed fast over the course of our two nights at the inn. We talked, looked at their photo albums, sang ballads, and ended up with two friends that I can't wait to see again.

The Brazen Head is a quite, comfortable and beautiful place to enjoy the mountains and West Virginia hospitality. While Snowshoe Resort might suit some with its many places to stay, restaurants, and planned-village atmosphere, for me a place like the Brazen Head is more comfortable and home-like. It's one of those places where "everybody knows your name." That suits me just fine.

I can't wait to go back.