The Red Flannel Rag

As with all of life’s events, the experience of growing up in two cultures is not all

about discomfort. I think others who have had the same experience would agree that to

survive one must become more attentive and mindful of the events of everyday life. The

result for most folks is a deeper involvement in life.

As I gather my memories for this book, I realize that the most painful aspects of

my growing up were the times when my mountain culture clashed with mainstream

American culture. It first happened in school when Cousin Virgil wore “the red flannel

rag” around his neck to prevent sore throat; it happened in church when the

Mennonites, at times not so su btly, let us know we were not “born Mennonites” and

would have to work especially hard to enter the kingdom of heaven; it happened when I

spoke our language, filled with colorful metaphors, outside our community. Over time,

the clashes became fewer and farther apart for me, but even today, as with the story of

my uncle, I still experience an occasional incident of conflicting values.

After I graduated from high school, I worked for a short time in a women’s

lingerie factory. Cousin Ruby had worked there for years. In keeping with our

community tradition, she had gotten her sister, Joyce, a job there and also found jobs

for several other female cousins of ours. While I worked in the factory, Mom insisted I

continue to watch the want ads in the newspaper and send applications to organizations

that were advertising for secretarial help.

One day I got home from work and Mom told me I had gotten a phone call from

Dr. Elmer L. Smith. He was a Professor of Anthropology at Madison College now James

Madison University. He needed a secretary. He invited me for an interview. My world

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