In June, 1948, my parents and siblings were planting the yearly garden. It's hot, and a storm comes. I'm now seventy-two, and I still remember that day like it was yesterday.
Photo compliments of denny-hall, anyandallthings.wordpress.com
Appalachian Heat
The month is June, and the year is 1948. The Appalachian air is hot and heavy, and I'm desperate to find a place where it's cool. My parents and five siblings are hard at work. No one talks. It's too hot to work and talk. I'm too young to work like all the others, so I'm left to entertain myself and just be good. My feet are dappled with sweat and God's soil, and the rest of me is much the same. The skies darken. Lightning flashes. Thunder rumbles enough to jar the earth. And a gentle breeze flutters the tree leaves, causing them to display their silvery undersides. My daddy speaks with the voice of authority, I reckon we'd better head to the house till this passes. We all head for the front porch. It's too hot to go inside. Mother and Daddy sit in the only two chairs there are. The others sit here and there on the rough porch floor. That is, everyone except me. I'm scared! So I head for the safety of Daddy's lap. He's dank—musty smelling from sweat and hard work. But he'll bathe it away in the cool creek after dark. I'm there, in the safety of his arms. Lightning flashes. Thunder rumbles. A blowing rain pelts the tin roof of our humble home. Everyone joins together in singing Precious Memories. Everyone, that is, except me. I've fallen asleep, there in the safety of my father's arms.
WHEN I WAS A CHILD I OFTEN SPENT SUMMER'S IN THE SOUTH WITH FAMILY MEMBERS THAT WERE FARMERS. WHENEVER AN UNEXPECTED THUNDER STORM AROSE EVERYONE CAME IN FROM THE FIELDS, COVERED ALL THE MIRRORS IN THE HOUSE, AND SAT QUIET AND STILL...LISTENING TO THE 'VOICE OF GOD'. BEAUTIFUL KINDRED SCENES. STORMS, SO NECESSARY TO COOL THE UNRELENTING HEAT OF LIFE, SPIRITUALLY AND PHYSICALLY...SERVE A VITAL PURPOSE. THEY REMIND BELIEVERS TO SEEK AND FIND THE SAFETY OF THEIR FATHER'S ARMS AND PRESENCE. WELL DONE AND ENJOYED. THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
This is such, wonderful, perceptive and atmospheric writing David...I enjoyed every single carefully chosen word!
I heard the sound of the rain falling on the tin roof, and the total comfort and security you felt within your father's arms...
the humidity of the air, and a close and loving family singing together...
Such warm and secure memories to be savoured forever...Like Connie...definitely one for my library too! One of your best...
Hugs,
Diana...
David, really enjoyed this one. Even though I have Arkansas farm roots (kind of like Jerry) , my grandparents lived way back in the mountains outside of Boone, NC and you have really got me thinking on those memories today.
Will never forget how cold those mountain streams are to take a bath in, even in summer.
Thanks for this one.
Dan
The following message was sent to me from Connie Faust, so I am posting the message just as she wrote it to me.
David Lee Thompson! (Is that what your parents called you at that age?) Your writing here gives a clear picture of that day, even down to the floor boards! I love it! I am saving it to my library so I can come across it again some stressful day and recapture the peace and the haven of your family. Beautiful! I wrote the above as a review, but AD said I had written a review previously. I had to tell you how I enjoyed Appalachian Heat, so I copied and pasted it here. Sincerely, Connie
I take it you were seven years old and that heat and that storm were so well remembered even though you fell asleep in the lap of your father. Now that's comfort!
I recall something slightly similar, but different. At that age, my grandparents had built a bedroom for guests on their small truck farm in an old barn no longer used for cows. My twin brother, cousin, and I shared an old saggy bed in the dusty, musty old barn in the heat, trying to go to sleep, thinking about the bugs that would attack us when a terrific thunderstorm came up and shook the place to its core. Lightning found its way through all the cracks in the place and the thunder practically knocked us out of that bed. The next morning a tree close to the house had been split in half. There was no comfort for us until that storm was over… And then we slept.
Beautiful memories, David. This could have taken place in southern Arkansas where I was raised. In fact the weather there had many scenes that you wrote of. Childhood memories. You are right. Some last forever.
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I heard the sound of the rain falling on the tin roof, and the total comfort and security you felt within your father's arms...
the humidity of the air, and a close and loving family singing together...
Such warm and secure memories to be savoured forever...Like Connie...definitely one for my library too! One of your best...
Hugs,
Diana...
Will never forget how cold those mountain streams are to take a bath in, even in summer.
Thanks for this one.
Dan
David Lee Thompson! (Is that what your parents called you at that age?) Your writing here gives a clear picture of that day, even down to the floor boards! I love it! I am saving it to my library so I can come across it again some stressful day and recapture the peace and the haven of your family. Beautiful! I wrote the above as a review, but AD said I had written a review previously. I had to tell you how I enjoyed Appalachian Heat, so I copied and pasted it here. Sincerely, Connie
David Lee Thompson
I recall something slightly similar, but different. At that age, my grandparents had built a bedroom for guests on their small truck farm in an old barn no longer used for cows. My twin brother, cousin, and I shared an old saggy bed in the dusty, musty old barn in the heat, trying to go to sleep, thinking about the bugs that would attack us when a terrific thunderstorm came up and shook the place to its core. Lightning found its way through all the cracks in the place and the thunder practically knocked us out of that bed. The next morning a tree close to the house had been split in half. There was no comfort for us until that storm was over… And then we slept.
Ron