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My mother would tell me of my grandfather's ways in the quote olden unquote days before I was even thought of, or she was either for that matter. How he would clatter down the hill behind a plow and team near mid-morning "the middle of the day" it would seem; she used to say that the farm once belonged to Davy Crockett. Even called the creek there Crockett's Creek. the church was Crockett's Creek Church (Baptist) founded 1804, she would tell, and the sign above the door bore her out. In any case, Grandfather swore that he alone of modern men (circa 1910) took the proper attitude toward his work. He would not work for entrance into Heaven, but for a loaf of daily bread for man. The former was a matter between him and his God, the latter the problem at hand. So he would stand meditatively behind the team til some passer-by would happen round by Crockett's Creek enroute to Model (the town) or to mill and would stop to sit a spell and talk til the stark supper bell's note holding clear across the hills would mark the end of day. Then Grandpa would stand
Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press
Published: Jan 8, 1973
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