Traveling West Virginia: In the Mountains

This past weekend we were in the mountains. Where we live is really the foothills of the Allegheny range, and elevations, while steep, are not all that high. This trip took us to Randolph and Tucker counties, West Virginia, where some of our state's highest mountains are located.

The first day was a storytelling day at Elkins High School. I was there to present Appalachian stories and ballads to English and Creative Writing classes. We had a blast! The students were so receptive and willingly interacted with me, something that can be hard to find with this age group. We talked, I told, they told me stories, and they even joined in on the chorus of the last ballad. What fun! At the end the teacher asked those who wanted to take part to be in a photo with it. It was flattering to see how many of them crowded onto the stage, and some hurried so they could stand beside me. Talk about feeling at home! As I left the building a tall boy came up and gave me a high five, telling me how much he enjoyed the stories and songs. I left with a glow that could have melted snow.

That evening we tried out the Venezuelan restaurant in Elkins, El Gran Sabor. I was so surprised to hear that there was a Venezuelan restaurant in the state, especially in the small mountain town of Elkins! As some of you might remember, our daughter-in-law in Miami is Venezuelan and has prepared food from her country for us and also took us to a Venezuelan restaurant when we visited. So we were anxious to try out El Gran Sabor.

It was delicious. Funky, comfortable atmosphere, with a nice dining area in front and a bar with a large lounge in back, where they offer live music several times a week. I wanted music so we headed to the back. We had chachapas and arepas, with Latin rice and black beans and it was all delicious. The band was a loud rock threesome, not our usual style but we enjoyed it anyway.

We stayed overnight in town, and next morning at breakfast met two men whose stories are vastly different from each other. The first, who looked to be in his 50's, came stumbling in looking like he'd had one wild night. His hair was sticking up all over and uncombed, his pants falling down almost to his knees and his eyes were puffy--his whole face looked pretty tough, honestly. He sat at a table beside me and pulled out his wallet, and began counting his money. He had a LOT of money, mostly $100s. I laughed and asked, "Is it all there?"

"Nope," he said, "my girlfriend stole $300 from me last night."

"Ex-girlfriend, you mean?" I asked.

"Man," he said, "I don't know where my jacket it. Or where my truck is either. I'm from Akron, Ohio---gotta figure out how to find my truck..."

He got up and wandered out, hitching up his pants. I wondered if that $300 had gone up his nose or down his throat the night before. What a mess he was.

The second was a young man from Texas. He told us he was in town to repair some wind generators that had gone offline.

"Really?" I asked. "How do you get up there to them? They're awfully tall."

He explained that there was a ladder inside the tall pillars on which the generators are mounted. He went on to tell us all about his work, as we had many questions. I'd never met anyone who did that kind of work, so I was fascinated. He told us he'd been a police officer for five years, but burned out fast and went to a college in Texas where he got a two-year degree in wind energy technology. I did not know such a degree existed---there's a new career path for today's young people!

After we left the motel, we wandered downtown. I had hoped to see two museums--the railroad museum and the forestry museum. Sadly they were both closed. The volunteer at the visitors center was friendly and helpful though, and we enjoyed a long chat with him about Elkins history.

Near the depot was an old historic building that housed arts and crafts, antiques and a coffee shop. We browsed around, enjoying all the beautiful work. I bought a small blue glass Blenko tree to add to my collection.

The pottery was really stunning. I wish I had noted the artisan's name.

We stopped at a Dollar General for a few things, and in there I met a third man, who was buying several cans of sausage gravy. Who knew that you could get it in cans?? Not me. He was quite elderly and I took him to be in his 70's, but he said no, "I'm 88! And I work every day and never get sick!" He wasn't even wearing glasses. Amazing.

We left town to head up to Blackwater Falls then, as the weather was getting colder and snow was predicted. The rain was freezing on the trees as the road climbed.

We checked in and found that the park naturalist had booked us a cabin to share with my storytelling partner Judi and her husband Tom. This was one of the views on the way to our cabin.

The cabin itself had obviously had some updates recently. and was so cozy and nice.

This is the view out our windows.

And in the kitchen cabinets--Fiestaware! Made right here in WV by the Homer Laughlin China Company. That was pretty cool to see.

Larry and I wasted no time getting a fire going.

Tom and Judi soon arrived and we went to the Smokehouse Restaurant in the park lodge for dinner. They had a large buffet with many choices; the dining room is glassed in with lovely views over the Blackwater Canyon.

Our performance went well, with a good audience. This time the presentation was Celtic stories and ballads, so all day I was doing a mental shifting of gears from the Appalachian material to the Celtic.It was good to revisit this material as it's been a couple months since we've had a performance for this particular set of material.

Next morning, the promised snow had arrived and was falling as we prepared to leave the cabin.

The vehicles were iced over and the men had a challenge getting them open!

Our little cabin, Number 13. It wasn't bad luck at all.

Tom cleaning their car as Judi makes her careful way to the door.

The restaurant was cozy and welcoming, the breakfast buffet was plentiful and delicious, and the waitress came by regularly to fill our coffee cups. Heaven.

The snow continued to fall so we waited a bit before leaving to let others track it in.

Not far out of Thomas, we met this sight:

I thought it was a wreck, but it turned out to be a flatbed tractor trailer that had run out of diesel fuel in the middle of the road. How in the world he let his tanks run dry I cannot imagine, but there he was, being re-fueled in the middle of the road. We waited, talking with the State Roads truck driver who was also stuck there. He was a nice guy--and took the photo for me.

Miraculously, the tractor trailer started after getting fuel--miraculous because often when a diesel runs out of gas it's the very devil to start.

All along the road were ice-coated, snowy trees, so pretty.

We followed the salt truck all the way to Parsons, and honked a goodbye and thank you to the driver.

Our van is all-wheel-drive, so it goes very well in bad weather; still it was nice to have the truck ahead of us preparing the road.

Once down off the mountain, the roads were fine, and we were home right when we had planned. Here the house was a little chilly, but we soon had it warmed up and spent the evening by the fireplace with our dogs, who were very glad to see us back. We had had a good time, but we were glad to be home too.


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

Augusta: Festival Day and Concert Memories

Saving and savoring today:

Soft rain in the morning, cool on my skin. A squirrel in the treetops outside my window.

Bright tents filled with arts and crafts, the smell of barbecued chicken and the sound of music and dancing feet as I entered the Augusta Festival. The rain was gone, the sun was out and the festival was in full swing.

Talking to a young mother who lost her husband suddenly last year; it never gets better, she said, looking at her two little boys. Her heart in her eyes.

Storytelling in the children's activity tent. There was lots there for the kids to do--dried flower arrangements, making drums, glitter painting, face painting, making bracelets, and me, telling tales. We had fun with participation stories, surrounded by those making crafts but still listening to the stories.

Listening to the fine music of Gerry Milnes and Dave Bing, two of the state's best old-time musicians, who collect tunes from elderly musicians and also do extensive research on the music they play. Listening to them discuss their songs is like a crash course in West Virginia music history.

I also heard Michael and Carrie Kline, with their songs of the working man, songs of home and songs of hope, as I waited my turn onstage.

Meeting a lady who introduced herself as a Two Lane Livin' reader. It pleases me so much when people tell me that they read and enjoy my column.

Storytelling on the main stage as the sun continued to shine. I sang Railroad Boy and told one of my favorite stories, the one about the headless woman of Briar Creek. A good, appreciative crowd.

Dinner with friends in the cafeteria, Boston Creme Pie for dessert, which always reminds me of the one my oldest son once made from scratch for me as apology for talking back to me the day before.

Anticipation waiting for the evening concert to start, the end of the festival and the end of 5 weeks of the Augusta Heritage workshops. Talking to two men in front of me, I learned a lot about edible mushrooms. One was a vet who had been in Vietnam in 1961-1963. We talked of wine-making, gardens, mushroom hunting, edible wild foods. Then the show started.

Music, music and more music as some of Augusta's best musicians took the stage playing old-time music--and flatfoot dancers joining them onstage; what excitement they bring! Then the Northern Kentucky Brotherhood Singers took the stage with astounding harmonies. After singing My Girl, the lead singer told the audience that if they had their significant other with them, to give him or her a kiss--and the Marine vet turned around and asked for a kiss. He got one too, :) At intermission he went out to his truck and brought in a Bradley mushroom for me, one they'd just gathered, so I could identify them myself. I used to know them but it's been 30 years since I hunted them.

And finally, Dr. Ralph Stanley and his Clinch Mountain Boys! Dr. Stanley is 86 but sang so beautifully. He needed reminding of lyrics here and there but his grandson Nathan (pictured to his right above) who now leads the band fed him lines as needed, and it didn't bother the audience one bit. This is Dr. Stanley's last tour, and it was a privilege to see him and hear him sing. His voice is haunting, memorable. No concert photos were allowed but you can see how the autograph table was mobbed afterwards.

Riding back to the dorms in the little golf cart shuttle through the soft night air, the music still ringing in my ears. We picked up a young woman looking for the dance pavilion along the way, and she told me she was from Turkey, had spent a year in Vienna, Austria, and there met her husband, who was from West Virginia, so now she lives here. Life twists and turns along the journey, endlessly fascinating.

Tomorrow I'll be homeward bound. I hate to see this week end, but I will be glad to see home again, filled with memories of music, faces and stories.

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

Augusta, Day 2

No pics of this week's activities yet, but they'll be coming. My camera has been in one place, the card somewhere else. I have finally reunited them!

It is not easy to describe the experience of being here. Musicians and singers are everywhere. Today I sat in on a session of singing old hymns, unaccompanied. The sound of many voices rising in harmony is like honey to the ears, and the chapel here at Augusta is the perfect place for both its ambience and its acoustics.

My class met for the second day. We're a small and varied lot, but that just makes it more interesting and more challenging at the same time as I strive to meet their needs, from the scholarship student who has never told a story to the museum docent to the experienced teller. We give and take, sharing ideas, experiences, and stories. Always stories. I arrived with a lesson plan and a schedule for the week, but it is constantly adapted to what my students need instead of what I think might benefit them. There is room for it all in the end.

Yesterday we talked about stories in general, what makes a story, the characteristics of Appalachian culture and its impact on the storytelling in the region. We explored some tall tales and discussed the structure of these kinds of stories. The Road Scholars (formerly Elderhostel) students came in the afternoon for stories; I told and talked about stories and one of my students told a tale.

I went to an evening ballad-singing concert with Brian Peters. Brian is from England and treated us to some excellent Child Ballads interspersed with his witty commentary that often had us laughing out loud. It was interesting to hear different versions of ballads I also sing. Following Brian were the crankies! Such simple fun. I was late to bed but it was well worth a little lost sleep.

Today we worked a bit on a story one of the students wanted feedback on, then moved on to ghost stories. I have each of them a story to learn--not perfectly, but the "bones" of the tale. They each told their story in rough form, then we discussed each telling. After lunch they came back and re-told the stories. The changes they had made as they let the story "sit" in their subconscience during lunch were remarkable and showed that they had a good grip on the story's structure. The Road Scholars arrived and I discussed ghost stories and why we tell them before launching into a ballad and then a few stories.

My students were up next. I was so pleased with the way they rose to the challenge; one of them retold a short funny tale I'd told earlier without a bit of rehearsal--he just added it to the story he'd practiced. They all got good applause and appreciations from the audience. We finished with more discussion and a few of the Road Scholars told short stories. Then they left and we reviewed each student's telling and our day was done.

There is much to do this evening: a concert, music jams, singing, probably dancing. The hills around Davis & Elkins College will be ringing with the joy of old-time music and dance, and everyone will go to bed tired, happy, and filled with music, song, and good conversation. And that's exactly why people come here from all over the country for this special week in the mountains.

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

At Augusta: Day One

Well, my word. There is wi-fi available all over the Davis & Elkins campus, so getting online is no problem, Finding time to blog might not be as easy as linking up, though. The schedule is full; there is so much to do here.

This is a combination of Old-Time Week, Vocals Week, and Dance Week, with traditional Appalachian craft classes and culminating with the Augusta Festival. The class I am teaching starts at 9 am and goes until 4pm. Within that timeframe, there is an hour or so for lunch, and the Road Scholars (formerly Elderhostel) folks come for a storytelling presentation. After class there are activities of all kinds: dancing, porch parties, special one-time classes, concerts, mini-courses and more.

I was up early today to shower and get to breakfast, then to the library to set up for my students. It's a small class but that doesn't impact planning. I hooked up the CD/cassette player (some of what I want to share with them was only available on cassette) and my laptop, rearranged the furniture and was ready to begin.

We started, as many things do in the mountains, with conversation. I wanted to get to know my students, their background, why they came and what they wanted to learn. We discussed what they thought "Appalachian storytelling" is and why. We watched some short video clips from Melissa Rogers' West Virginia Storytelling Project and discussed the storytellers and the material on the video. Then it was already lunch time.

After lunch we talked a bit more about storytelling, how to turn an anecdote into a story and I gave some examples. In no time, it seemed, it was 2:30 and the Road Scholars began arriving. What a fun group they are! We again started with a little conversation, and then I told stories, leading from my story of coming to West Virginia with such naive expectations, learning how to live in the old-time way, and leading into a few tall tales, a ghost story and a traditional Jack tale. The time passed swiftly and the hour was over.

My students and I finished the day discussing research techniques to find stories and variations of stories and how to find a story within an everyday conversation.

The first day of class was over. I took a walk along a nature trail to prepare for tomorrow when we will take a nature walk and discuss plant lore and folklore and the impact of environment on life in the mountains and the stories told here. After my walk I returned to my room to write some notes, catch up on email and  rest. Then I skipped dinner and walked down the hill to a class on Appalachian dialect. Fascinating! It was a casual give-and-take conversation between listeners and the instructor, and the room was full. I was glad to meet Bob McMillion who taught the class; he is a storyteller, balladsinger and folklorist from North Carolina, and an interesting man.

I have tried to find balladsingers here interested in getting together to swap songs but so far no luck. There is plenty of singing going on--group and harmony singing which is fun but I had hoped to find other balladsingers too. If they are here I have not found them, but this is only day one and I am still learning my way around.

Now I am resting a bit before going back out to hear some fine old-time music, maybe watch some dancing and then joining a late-night singing circle. Who knows? I may find the ballad singers there.

Copyright 2007 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Wordless Wednesday: Halliehurst

This won't be an entirely wordless post this week!

This is where my class on singing and song performance took place during Augusta Heritage's Irish/Celtic Week. It was built by Stephen Elkins, who was a railroad developer and timber man during the boom days, at the turn of the last century. he built it for his wife Hallie and named the mansion Halliehurst.  Most of the materials used to build the house were from West Virginia.

Our class was held in the library. (Lots of orbs in this photo...hmmm...)

The fireplace in the library. The carvings around the top are the zodiac signs.

Detail of the fireplace carvings.

The front entrance hall.

The ladies' room.

Playing with the camera! Both images are reflections of me as I took the photo.

Front staircase. The woodwork was stunning.

The fireplace in the "Veteran's room."

Not a bad place to have class! There were, I think, three pianos in the house, or perhaps more. I did not take photos of the third floor ballroom with its fairytale stained glass windows; there may have been another piano in that room as well.

Halliehurst is supposed to be haunted, and a couple experiences we had there make me think there is some truth to the story. You can read more about the supposed hauntings of Halliehurst here and here.