Ups and Downs
Oh, those hills, beautiful hills
How I love those West Virginia hills
If o’er sea or land I roam
Still I think of happy home
And those friends among those
West Virginia hills.
This is one verse of a song we learned in primary school in our rural setting among those hills. I can remember that sometimes in the little country church that we attended, there was a discussion of what heaven would be like. We hoped that it would be like the setting around us and our family, friends and neighbors would be there.
We came to Tiffin from Pennsylvania State University which is in a broad valley nestled among beautiful mountains. Since 1956, I have driven almost every year to southern WV to experience fall coloration with my family. I would generally leave Friday after work, have all-day Saturday there, and drive back on Sunday. The peak of color was generally around mid-October.
Two weeks ago we received by voice mail a message from Mary’s only sib, her sister, Bailey Ann. She said that her only grandson, Tim Jackson, was killed in a traffic accident and that our prayers were needed. Mary called her and learned that Tim was returning with other members of a show choir from a weekend workshop when his friend, the driver, over corrected his pickup when it went off the berm and the truck rolled over. Tim, unlike the driver, was not wearing a seat belt and was thrown out and crushed.
We arrived in Charleston, WV at Mary’s sister’s home about ten Thursday night. The wake had been that night and the line of teen-agers and their parents waiting to pay their respects extended out into the parking lot. Tim was a 17 year old junior at Winfield High School and well known and loved by his classmates.
On Friday morning, Bailey Ann and her husband Harry Mills received a phone call that Interstate-64, the busiest interstate in West Virginia was blocked in both directions. The first thought was more terrorism. It was a large semi carrying 42,000 pounds of powder for howitzer guns that had overturned and some of the powder was exposed. Only a spark would have set off a devastating explosion. People for a mile in all directions were evacuated. Winfield High School was closed.
The normal route to the funeral at the church was blocked, so we weaved our way through narrow country roads. The bright blue sky with a few fleecy rapidly moving clouds, warm sunshine and the almost full fall coloration lent a feeling of disbelief as to why we were there.
The narrow road led up to King Worship Center a new ecumenical church built in a narrow valley. Both sides of the hills had been removed creating enough level land for a large parking lot and a church for around 500 people.
We entered the church at 11:00. The closed casket was draped in a leopard skin print cloth. All his classmates wore leopard skin ribbons on their lapels. The sanctuary was filled with mourning friends. It was one of the most emotional and moving funerals I have ever attended. His mother, Susan Kay, sang a solo. Several friends spoke of his ready humor and how he listened to their problems. His 19 year old sister, Samantha, wearing a print leopard skin blouse gave an eulogy and invited the young people to come forward and sit with her on the steps near the alter and pray and give each other support. Samantha later wore Tim’s black leather jacket. The most emotional moment for me was when Tim’s young sister, ten year-old Theresa, (Tess) bravely went forward to the microphone and talked about her brother. The minister talked about Tim’s grin.
Afterwards the state police led the long procession about 25 miles to the cemetery. It was almost 1:30. It seemed that most of the high school students were now there. We were on a hill; the warm sun, the blue sky and the new fresh breezes that wafted over the cemetery seemed to be whispering goodbye to Tim, who wore a smile, print leopard skin pants and a black leather jacket. Late Friday afternoon we went by the West Virginia Turnpike (I-77) to Beckley where we stayed overnight with my oldest brother, James and his wife, Anne. It was a good but short visit. If you are ever on I-77 at Beckley, be sure and stop at The Tamarack, a beautiful building that displays and sells the best of the arts and crafts of WV. Chefs from the Greenbriar Hotel of White Sulfur Springs prepare the food.
Saturday morning we traveled farther south on the turnpike to my home place at Spanishburg. My youngest brother, his wife, Pearl, and their son, Cyrus Truman, III live there. That Saturday afternoon we went on a walk, visited neighbors and cousins and gathered about 20 southern buckeye seeds and several scarlet oak acorns. (If you would like some of these to plant, please call me.) This is the place where I have the fondest memories and the brightest dreams. They include the sight of the mountain in fall coloration mirrored in the old mill pond, the frost and ice-coated trees extending part way down the mountain that sparkled in the early morning sun, the fog rising on a summer day after a rain in the Cathole Holler and rarely a double rainbow over that Holler. These are the mountains where we hunted wild ginseng, wild bee trees and visited wild orchids and gay wings.
After church on Sunday we went farther south to Bluefield, WV, to the home of my third brother, Ira Byrd and his wife, Pat. They have a lovely, homey place up on the side of a mountain with trees and wildlife all about. They feed several hundred pounds of seeds and suet to the birds each year. This year they collected over 200 pints of mostly sourwood honey, the best of all honeys. On Monday morning after a breakfast of biscuits and gravy, sliced tomatoes, and two pork chops, we returned to Tiffin over I-77, U. S. 250, U. S. 30 and State Route 100. It was a trip of ups and downs, but altogether, we appreciated renewing family connections, and the beauty of the season.
– Percy