Return to the Land

Growing Up On The Farm

My earliest recollections from childhood are memories of the farm. Dad had gained steady employment at Produce and Provision Company in Bluefield. By the time I was ready for school we were living at 1116 Princeton Avenue in an apartment. I attended school at East End Elementary (which no longer exists). It was located approximately one mile from home and I walked it daily. Mother became active in the PTA and was instrumental in establishing a school lunch program for the students. She was a firm believer in a strong academic foundation and influenced my early education. She made sure I learned my lessons and she reviewed my homework daily. Mother knew each of my teachers and supported them in any way she could. I learned my multiplication tables in two weekends under the persistence of Mother. From September to May we lived in Bluefield but when school was over each year to the farm we’d go and spend the entire summer. I ran barefooted through the fields and at times accidentally through cow piles - this was happiness at the fullest. I found very little enjoyment living in the apartment during the winter so the farm was an entirely wonderful world for me. During my early years my maternal grandparents, Ma and Pa Watson, lived at the farm in our log cabin. The cabin was large enough to house both families and there was complete harmony. Dad usually stayed in Bluefield during the week. Mother helped on the farm, worked the garden, and of course kept a firm hand on me. I developed a very strong bond with Ma and Pa, especially Pa. They had a few other grandchildren who lived far away so I became their closest grandchild and thus was showered with love and attention. I would watch Pa farm and repair machinery. I tried to emulate him in all respects, some good and some bad. I remember learning to curse from Pa and I thought it was perfectly permissible to say G.D.S.O.B. until one day Mother overheard me and I received the switching of my life. In those days corporal punishment was the way to correct children. This was also practiced in public schools. I was never disrespectful but when I did something displeasing to Mother my little legs would receive an apple tree switching. In school I would get my hair pulled or a paddling in front of the class which was very embarrassing and I’d return to my desk and cry. The problem that got me into trouble at school was talking to my friends in class. After years of this type of punishment in front of the class I finally learned to keep quiet. It took years before I became comfortable again when speaking in public. I always wondered if my stage fright had its roots in this type of negative reinforcement. As I grew older I was permitted more freedom on the farm and this was spent fishing the creek. Early on I couldn’t go alone so I developed a great friendship with our neighbors across the creek, the family of Clyde Faulkner . Clyde was Dad’s first cousin through grandmothe r Miller’s sister Aunt Elly Faulkner. Clyde and Clara Faulkner looked after me as one of their own. They had twin daughters, Mary and Martha, who were a few years older than I. Mary was the one who fished with me every day of the summer. What great times we had playing and fishing. We wouldn’t catch much except chubs and suckers and occasionally trout. I’d bring

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