Saturday, May 30, 2015

The Wirt County Hillbillies

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My mother told me a little story on the phone tonight, about when she lived in Wirt County, West Virginia during the early 40’s. My grandfather had lost his factory job as the war first started winding down and had returned to his first love—farming. There wasn’t much money to be had on the farm, but there was plenty of food. That came in handy when his kids wanted to go to 4-H camp. It seems that they would let you bring food to help feed the campers if you couldn’t afford the camp fees. That was good arrangement in the days before government interference put an end to common sense.

Mom’s best friend also wanted to go to camp, so they figured they’d ride together, along with their siblings. Her friend’s dad took them in his pickup truck and the kids rode in the back with their luggage, produce, eggs and live chickens. At every bump, the old hens would give a cackle and, of course, the road to Camp Barb was gravel back then.


She said that when they came rolling into camp, more than a few folks noticed their arrival. That was before anyone had heard of the Beverly Hillbillies, but the look must have been similar. They were kids, they didn’t care and they had fun on the trip there and fun the week of camp. What more could you ask for? © 2015
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6 comments:

Vicki said...

Life was a lot more fun then, before the government outlawed nearly everything. I have bounced along in the back of a pickup as a child and so did my children. Today that's called child abuse. Sigh.

Sixbears said...

I remember the days when on summer weekends a local logger would load the back of his logging truck with kids. He'd take them to the lake for fifty cents each. These days they'd throw him in jail for child endangerment. No one ever got hurt.

Pumice said...

We used to go Christmas caroling that way. Today we would be pulled over by the local police because no one was wearing a seat belt. It is always good to know that the government cares more about us than our parents.

Grace and peace.

Gorges Smythe said...

The only thing I ever saw abused was our backsides from the bumps, Vicki!

Times have certainly changed, Sixbears.

Yeah, Pumice, that fact makes me all warm and fuzzy feeling, too.

Kathy Felsted Usher said...

We were just talking about things like this today at lunch. I never road in the back of a pickup truck but I would have liked to, I got so car sick inside. Maybe because Dad had scented deodorant and aftershave on while Mom had perfume, hair spray and scented deodorant both smoking and the windows rolled up, It just the way it was and nobody gave it a second thought. I'd lay down in the back seat, without a seat belt, and try to sleep. Somehow we survived!

Gorges Smythe said...

My stepson used to get car sick, Kathy. I don't think he does anymore, but then, he just turned 45, too! lol