Memories From Up In The Holler

UPDATED 2 - 16 - 2009

Memories Of Life Up In The Holler

 Last Train To Welch                                                                                 It was a cold morning on Nov. 11,1950 and I was about to catch the last train that would ever run from Gary to Welch.  Well , maybe I stretched the truth just a little bit. The actual last train departed Gary on April 2 , 1951. This was the last train that would haul passengers to what us kids called the Santa Claus parade. In reality it was the Veterans Day parade and was considered the major event for the whole year for the city of Welch . It didn`t get any bigger than this as literally thousands of people poured into Welch from hollows all over McDowell County.        I remember the excitement I felt as my mother and sister, Betty, boarded the train with our next door neighbor Stella Charney and her daughter Martha. The little steam engine pulled only a box car, one passenger coach and a caboose as it left from the Gary train station in route to Welch that day.  There are two things vividly implanted in my recollection about the trip and the first was, we had to stand in the aisles because every seat was taken. The second thing I remember was when we arrived at Wilcoe yard.  We had stopped on a siding for a coal train to pass, but as I looked out the window I thought we were moving and  the other train was stopped.         Besides seeing Santa Claus, the one thing in my memory that really stood out that day was the multitude of people.   When we stepped off the train in Welch it seemed as if we were consumed by a sea of humanity.   My mother held my and my sister`s hand tightly as she methodically led us through the jam-packed crowd. The standard dress for the day, at least for the men was a heavy full length wool overcoat with an Indiana Jones style hat. And it seemed as if about every other man had a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.  I remember the cap I wore that day was a World War II fighter pilot type cap.  It was a fleece lined leather cap with fold down ear flaps and a chin strap.        Finally, we made our way down to McDowell Street to an area near the Pocahontas Theatre where I would have a good view of Santa as he passed.  This parade had became quite famous for its noted dignitaries and guest speakers, with even a former president once highlighting this annual event.  And of course the high school bands from all over the county, the beautiful floats and seeing Santa Claus made for a really exciting day.          After the parade I remember my mother taking us to the old Consolidated Bus Lines terminal to catch a bus home. It was located inside the building across the street from the Shell gas station owned by the H.C. Lewis Oil Company.  Then going home we had to stand on the bus because it was filled to capacity.  Wow, wouldn`t it be nice to go back just for a day to visit those wonderful, carefree childhood days in McDowell County. Actually I can and do make the trip quite often . I simply sit down and close my eyes.                    Buddy French   Class of 1962     Copyright 2006    Budm16@juno.com

Memories of life in the "Holler"

Up In The Holler                                                                                                           I was born and raised in an old wood frame farm house (that does not exist anymore) on land leased from the coal company up in a holler called Youngs holler, near the old # 7 mine. It is located up from Elbert Grade School in Elbert # 7 , McDowell County West Virginia. It was called Youngs Holler because a family named Young settled on a lease there in the early days of Elbert and farmed the land for many years near the top of the mountain. There also was a family named Fisher that lived on a lease in a house up on a hillside and an old man and woman named Johnson that had a small farm (they were the parents of Rena Lane the postmaster of Elbert for many years) they had all sorts of animals cows, chickens and an old white dog that I called Ghost because he would appear and disappear like magic. There was another house close to ours where a man named Charlie Parker and his family lived for many years. There was a huge flat rock lying on a hillside behind his barn where we kids loved to play.                                                                                                                                   My earliest memories are of the holler, they are mostly good memories . I guess even from an early age I always enjoyed being alone in the holler and the woods exploring and learning the ways of the forest.   When other kids were playing and doing sports I was in the woods exploring , hunting, building hideouts and cabins, camping out lying on the ground looking at the stars and listening to the sounds of the forest at night. I have dreamed of of going back some day and finding some of my favorite places again, but I doubt if that will happen as I am old now and not limber anymore, hard for me to walk long distances let alone climb mountains.                                                                                                                                                                                Little did I know then but in later years when I found myself in the jungles of Viet Nam fighting to stay alive and survive, the things I learned in the holler would save my life and the lives of others.                                         I returned home to the USA with awards and decorations . While on leave I returned to Elbert, Wv. and I walked up Youngs holler. The memories came back to me as I walked of the great times my sisters and I and our friends had there, seemingly every tree and every rock held a memory.                                                            When I rounded a curve in the old dirt road there it was , a barrier of rocks in front of an oak tree that Chucky Borich and I had built as kids and called it a Fort. A little ways down the hill to the bottom of the holler was the creek flowing as cool as ever where we used to play and camp, I looked back up the hill toward the road at the big Oak trees with the vines hanging in them and I remembered the times we all went there together. Me ,my sisters Grace and Marie, Ruth Lane and Karen Lester. We took an axe and cut a vine and we would take a running start and swing on the vine way out over the trees and the creek. One time the vine broke as I swung way out very high and I went crashing down through the trees but I was ok. Another time Karen Lester fell and broke her arm, we all helped her out of the woods.          The funniest memory is when we decided to build a cabin, we had no tools or any idea what we were doing my sister Marie started shaking the heck out of a small tree. What she was doing is beyond me . At any rate there was a hornets nest in that tree. Well as one can immagine the hornets did not like that  very much, they swarmed out and attacked us furiously. They chased us all the way to the road and then down the road aways. They stung us unforgivingly, my sister Grace sat down on the road and began to cry, Ruth came to her aid, sat down beside her and sat right on a hornet.  To this day I laugh when I think of this.                                                                                                                                       I also remember the wild flowers in the spring, the smells, the wonderful feelings of youth in the spring. Just below our house was the Advent Christian Church in the old mine office building, I can still here the music and singing on Easter Sunday and the Easter egg hunts there and worrying about finding one of last years eggs.        The spring time was great, the forest came alive and the spirits soared. I remember the smell of my mother baking fresh bread, the aroma drifted over the holler and hills.                                                                                        Yes those were wonderful times........will we ever experiencethem again?........Louis "Buddy" Garay                    I posted this story once before but for lack of anything better to post here I thought it was worth a reprint.        There is a coal mining operation at the mouth of Youngs Holler now , it blocks the entry to the holler. We found the back door to the holler, we rode ATV`s entering through # 6 and rode around the mountains to Elbert "Youngs" Hollow. We found the house I was born and raised in , its collapsed and flooded out by the creek but still there, we also rode up the hollow as far as we could but had to turn back when we ran into a dead end . A big thank you goes out to Buddy French for making this happen and to Carmello Miano for joining in the adventure. I plan to return in the summer and camp out for several days . Anyone want to come along and experience an adventure of a lifetime, its fun and exciting. I will be posting a lot of pictures of the area and county...BG

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