Root Jumper

by Justine Felix Rutherford

  Building a Log House

  In building a log house, a person had to first clear the land of trees and brush. Then he had to cut the logs. This was no easy task because the logs sometimes had to be dragged a long distance. There on the site, these logs had to be notched and fitted. Then the person had what was called a house-raising. All the neighbors came from far and near with well-filled baskets of good things to eat. This was a fun time, and many hands made light work. The big pine logs were started from the bottom. Some of the men were on the ground working, and some were on the building fitting and notching. The main part of the house could be finished in a day and sometimes the rafters too.

  Another interesting thing in building a log home was the chinking between the logs. Sometimes there were good-size cracks between them, and of course these cracks had to be filled. The method at this time was called “chinkin and daubin.” This chinking was made from oak timber sawed in lengths from one to three feet long. This was then split into a sort of wedge shape. It was small enough on one side to slip into the crack but too large on the other side to slip through. Then came the daubing. This was made of a very choice yellow clay. Someone would find where this clay was located. There was a hole dug about the size of a wash tub. Then water was poured in and the loose clay was mixed into a thick paste. This was carried in the basket to the house and used like cement is used today. A wedge of the wood was put in between the logs, and then a paddle of this daubing was slapped in. Then it was smoothed down as best as it could be on the rough surface. When this daubing dried, it was very hard and made a warm house.

  Clapboards

  Houses were often roofed using clapboards. Clapboards were made from a choice white oak tree. It was cut down and sawed into lengths of approximately twenty-eight inches and sometimes three feet. The wood was then split into boards with what was known as a “rive.” One side of this board had to be about three quarters of an inch thick. The other edge was about one quarter inch. So you see, it takes quite a timber expert to get these boards or shingles just right. They also had to be “ricked up” and seasoned before using.

  I remember watching Dad and Pearl Knapp rive clapboards on our farm. They cut down this large white oak tree. It was hauled in with the horse, and Pearl rived the shingles. They had to “rick” them up, and they had to dry or season the shingles for a long time. Then they roofed the house with them. The shingles were still good when they tore down the old house many years later.

  Special People

  Muttie

  Muttie was such a remarkable lady. I think about her often. I want you to meet this lady. Her name was Bertha White. Her maiden name was Oswald. She was married to Ed White, and everyone called her Muttie.

  Muttie lived about three miles from my childhood home on Spurlock Creek. I never knew her very well as a child because she never got out much. Like most Appalachian women, she traveled only as needed for business. It was when I was a teenager that I became more familiar with her.

  Muttie was of German decent. She was a rather large lady—no fat, just muscle and bone. She wore her hair back in a bun as did most of the ladies at this time. She wore what we called a sunbonnet. Sometimes strands of hair would work from under her bonnet but she would stop and push it back under her bonnet.

  Muttie was always so friendly and kind. She had this wonderful laugh, and her eyes just twinkled. I never saw her out of sorts. She had this deep German accent. My husband Doyle would say to her, “Is the world treating you well, Muttie?” She always answered “Ya” with her great laugh.

  I asked Mac White, her grandson, what was the one thing he remembered best about his grandmother. He said that she always wore an apron. When she got up, she put on a clean apron and wore it until she went to bed.

  The apron was used for many things. Women carried eggs from the hen house, papaws, apples, baby chicks, and vegetables from the garden. They might wipe a drippy brow as they labored over the hot stove. The apron worked very well for a hot pad to open the oven. When the kids were hurt or crying, a woman would wipe away the tears and maybe a little snot. The apron dusted tables and was often used to shoo away flies. I have my mother’s apron hanging in the kitchen. When I feel like it, I can go there and shed a tear.

  Muttie could do anything. No matter what the problem was, she could fix it with an “Oh, pshaw!” She was a wonderful cook. Her family had a lot of company, and we had a lot of hungry people. She fed everyone who came to her door. When you left her house, she always gave you something. Maybe this was a mess of green beans or a jar of buttermilk. This habit of giving was a habit of Appalachian women.

  Muttie sold a lot of her wares at Huntington, West Virginia. One item she sold was her smear case cheese. People couldn’t get enough of this. She churned butter and sold it. She dressed chickens and had vegetables and apples to sell in season. They had an orchard and made apple butter, much of which she sold.

  Muttie had a wonderful garden, and every inch had something in it. She cleared of every weed with her hoe. I was at Muttie’s house one day when she was making chow-chow. It was a huge vat of vegetables. She always had time to talk, but she never stopped working. A lot of her garden produce was sold in Huntington.

  There was a metal wire stretched in her yard on which she hung her dressed fowls at Christmas time. This wire was full of dressed turkeys—sometimes as many as forty. These were taken and delivered in Huntington. Hogs and cattle were butchered at the White household. Muttie made wonderful sausage. She rendered lard by hand, and everything that could be saved was made into something good to eat. She pickled some of the pork, including ears and feet. She trimmed and salted down the hams. She raised rabbits for sale. She dressed the rabbits and even pickled some of them.

  Another enterprise of Muttie was raising quail for the Sportsmen’s League of Huntington, West Virginia. There was a small flat across the creek from the house where Muttie kept her quail. They were housed in what we called “coops.” At times she might have five hundred quail at different stages of growth.

  Muttie had to hatch quail eggs. She used any type chicken that might be setting, including bantam chickens. She could get a lot of eggs under a chicken hen. Another disadvantage that Muttie encountered was copperhead snakes. They loved quail eggs as well as quail. She would have to get up at night to check on her quail. A gun was always handy for the snakes as well as for the other animals that loved quail.

  Many years after Muttie quit raising quail, the place where she had raised the quails was known as “copperhead flat,” due to the many copperheads that had taken up residency.

  Around Christmas time, they had what we called a shooting match. For a sum of money, you had a chance to shoot at a target. The closest one to the target might win a turkey, ham, or whatever. All the men loved this shooting match. Muttie’s son Max, who was very young at that time and who lived across the road from me later in life, loved the shooting match. He always tried to replenish his mother’s stock of three or four turkeys that she had sold for Christmas. He only had pennies to enter the match, and others called him “penny boy.”

  Muttie was a seamstress. She made their clothes and braided rugs for the floor. She also loved flowers. Her yard was a mass of blooms. She didn’t have any grass in her yard. She had every weed and grass clipped out with her hoe. She spent hours in her flowers. Everyone brought flowers for Muttie’s yard.

  Muttie has been gone for many years, but the home place still stands. What a heritage she has left for her grandchildren!

  The Kingerys

  I was involved in taking the 1960 census. Checking on my schedule the night before, I noticed that Nine Mile Road was in my district. Thinking to myself, I decided that when I finished on Route 2, I would be able to get Nine Mile into my day’s schedule.

  The next day was a lovely day. I was walking along doing a little visiting on the side. I finished with my lates
t call, took my leave, and was getting into my car when this lady said to me, “You ain’t going up Dummy Holler, are you?” I told her I was planning on going up that road. She exclaimed, “Oh, the dogs will eat you up.” I told her I was pretty tough and that I would be fine. However, I was a little apprehensive.

  As I worked my way up the road, I began to get a hunger pain. I wished I had brought some food with me. I stopped at the next house where a man was standing in the yard. I got out of the car, introduced myself, and explained what I was doing. He said, “Go on in. My wife is inside.” She invited me into the kitchen where she was fixing dinner. At this time people had three meals a day—breakfast, dinner, and supper. I was at the home of Woodrow and Velvia Kingery. We had a delightful conversation, and as I worked, the smell of food was heavenly. The rest of the family came in. She introduced them to me. She said, “Why don’t you stay and have dinner with us?” as she placed a plate of brown biscuits on the table. Eyeing the biscuits, I said I would love to stay. It has been fifty or more years since then, but I can still taste those biscuits. After thanking them for the hospitality, I was on my way again. I had to drive to the very top of the hill to make my next call. I was almost to the top of the hill when I came to a large slip in the road. I debated with myself whether to back down the hill or go through the slip. I saw some dry dirt on the lower side. I believed I could go through all right. I gave my old car a down shift and drove on through.

  When I drove up and into the yard, a man and woman had been watching me come up the hill. The man said, “Sister, you did something I wouldn’t do. There hasn’t been anybody through that slip.” I said, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad. It was beginning to dry up.” We shook hands. That was my first meeting with Talbert Mount and his wife Sarah. It was beautiful on top of the hill, and they showed me around the farm.

  He said he was a blacksmith. I knew several of the neighbors who came to him for work they needed done. He began to show me some of his things he made from his blacksmith shop. He was an artist, but people just thought he repaired things. Besides making things from the shop, he made the cutter blade for the root jumper plow. He also repaired harness, made wagon wheels, and made horseshoes. I asked his son Harvey what he remembers most about his father. He said, “I think it was shoeing horses. He said that on Saturday his dad got up early, but people would already be lined up to get their horses shod. He said that his dad would shoe horses all day long continuing until seven or eight o’clock at night. Harvey said that his dad got twenty-five cents a hoof. If he had to repair a shoe, he would charge a little more.

  I considered this man another remarkable pioneer. I thanked these folks for an enjoyable visit and told them goodbye. I slid back through the slip and headed for home. I don’t think I made much money that day, but I made some good friends. By the way, the only dogs I saw that day were some old, lazy foxhounds that wouldn’t bite a biscuit!

  The Rock Lady

  “Man’s mind once stretched by a new idea never regains its original dimension.”

  Oliver Wendell Holmes

  We had these friends, Calvin and Lou Ella Jeffers, who loved to hunt rocks. Any day that was warm and clear you would find them along the Ohio River or on the plowed fields along the Ohio River looking for rocks. Everyone gave them permission to look in their fields for rocks. Any rocks that were different, pretty, or maybe occasionally an arrow head would go into a three-pound Bliss coffee can with hand-made handles which they carried on most days.

  My husband Doyle and I would occasionally go with them. You could always count on an enjoyable day with them. We would meet them and go down the river bank together. We took our food and water with us. Sometimes we would have a sandwich and a jug of water, or we would find a special place, build a little fire or as hill folks would say a little “gnat smoke,” and cook hotdogs after they were cooked. We would sit on our large, comfortable rocks, not gossiping, but just talking about everything and eating our hotdogs.

  The days were so peaceful along the river. We enjoyed the beautiful river, the blue sky, and the driftwood that lined the river bank. I especially liked the driftwood. Doyle and I would get out all we could carry, clean it up, and decorate with it. Sometimes we would get out some of our rocks and admire our haul for the day. These were just marvelous days. If you had any worries or troubles, they were soon put aside. The outing cost nothing. It was just a great day with friends and rocks.

  Lou Ella’s husband Calvin developed Alzheimer’s disease, and Lou Ella took care of him for years. This was no easy task, but she lovingly cared for him until his death.

  After Calvin died, Lou Ella bought herself a computer, and she soon became efficient using it. She began to sell a few things on e-Bay. She said she needed to supplement her income. She looked at all those rocks she and Calvin had accumulated, and she wondered if she might sell a few on e-Bay. As she began to sell her rocks, she wrote little stories with them, and they really began to sell. I loved the little stories. I think that is what sells her rocks.

  Lou Ella had a terrible fall which crushed her right shoulder. She had surgery, and her shoulder was reconstructed. She was in the hospital for weeks. She then went to her son’s house for a month. After she had come home, she called me and said. “I’m home,” and I said, “Oh, that’s wonderful!” I was so thrilled to know she was home. Lou Ella is about my age, but her mind is so clever. She said that she was depressed, but I told her I was very glad she had called because I wanted to put a story about the rock lady in my book if she didn’t mind. She said, “Oh, I don’t care.”

  I asked Lou Ella if she could use her hand, and she said that she could use her fingers. She said I can print, but I can’t write. I told her that when she felt like it, I wanted some of her stories and for her to think about it. We continued to talk, and I told Lou Ella that I would like to read her some of my book that I am writing. I said, “I don’t know if it is any good or not.” I then began reading some of my book to her. She said, “Oh, Teen, I just loved it.” This just made my day. She said, “You know, I am not depressed anymore.” Isn’t it ironic how we helped each other?

  I later went to see Lou Ella. We just sat on the porch since it was such a beautiful spring day. She told me that she had fixed some rocks to sell on e-Bay. She said that she had used her computer for the first time since her fall. We laid out the rocks she had fixed.

  She had a small, flat rock with five smaller rocks on top and two long rocks. She called this arrangement “Potatoes on a Plate.” Her description or little story was:

  Are you ready for Sunday dinner? Potatoes with jacket just waiting to be peeled and put on a plate with a lop of butter on top. These are a little hard and may have to be cooked a little more. These two eating utensils are also added straight from the kitchen rock pile.

  On Sale!

  She also had three rocks with holes in them. Her caption said:

  Lovely rock jewelry. 3 stones of the same symmetry ready to be strung and worn. God’s holy stones. Made with the help of water, age, and wear. Some of Ashton’s finest. None alike—Be the only one stoned at the party. Don’t Delay! Buy today!

  Lou Ella had a stone with a hump like a bird’s head. She called it “The Bird Rock.”

  All you need is an eye and you will have a perfect bird head. Stone found on the bank of the Ohio River at Ashton, WV. If you cannot find this stone a day or two after you purchase it, I am sure it will have flown. P.S. I will add on package “Return to Sender.”

  Buy Now!

  She also had three oblong rocks which she called “Rock Singers.” Her description said:

  Rock Singer! Yep, that’s what they are. Straight from the shores of the Ohio River. Well known for the depths of their singing can only reach high notes when the wind circles the length of their backs and the lightning and storms are flashing round about.

  When the conditions are right the
y can sing any time day or night.

  Might even do a little wind dancing.

  Own Today!

  Lou Ella had an oblong rock with a white spot on it, which she called “Listening Rock.”

  This rock will listen to your troubles. Carry it in your pocket. Money troubles and sweetheart troubles just hold it in your hand. Be sincere, help will come within 24 hours. If not put it in a different place try again.

  If that doesn’t work throw it in some water. It will think its back in the Ohio River, works better when it’s in familiar territory.

  Lou Ella is known as the Rock Lady. She sells her rocks all over the United States and overseas. I think she is a remarkable lady.

  Friends and Unusual Pets

  The Crows

  A couple of friends and I went to visit one of our neighbors, Willa Mae Roberts, who is ninety-three years old. The first time I met Willa Mae she and her cousin were visiting my grandmother. She and her cousin were sitting in an outside swing on the front porch. When I saw her, I thought she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. I was probably about eight years old. I had never seen much make-up, and she was wearing beautiful lipstick. She also had such lovely black hair. She was so friendly and nice to us kids. I think we just mostly sat and stared at her and her cousin.