The Red Flannel Rag

went to Texas to earn my Doctor of Philosophy Degree. I am now a Professor of

Sociology.

This book is reclamation! Finally, forty years later, I have come to recognize the

rich, beautiful heritage given to me by my ancestors and my community of birth. My

purpose in this writing is to share my memories of my grandparents, aunts, and uncles.

In my mountain community, life was enriched by colorful characters and great

storytellers with memories sharpened by oral tradition. My generation, before

television, was entertained with stories of witches, ghosts, and hoop snakes. We were

made to feel a part of our community by participating in survival rituals such as hog-

killing day and apple butter boiling. The memories I report here belong to me and only

me. Others who grew up with me may have somewhat different memories or

perceptions of events.

Why am I writing this now and not ten or twenty years ago? The time is right for

several reasons. First, I have recently been challenged by Chellis Glendinning in her

book titled My Name is Chellis, and I'm in Recovery from Western Civilization. She

offers a personal chal lenge “. . . to embark upon the process of recovery from western

civilization, by beginning to claim those parts of yourself and the earth that have been

lost." Her book is about individual recovery from addictions and cultural recovery from

ecological crisis using the wisdom of native cultures. Glendinning does not suggest, nor

will I suggest, that we all wear red flannel rags but that we reclaim the "connectedness"

that native peoples had to the universe, the earth, the community, and to each other.

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