The Red Flannel Rag

that one mother, who lived at the end of this winding mountain road, birthed at least

eight stillborn children. To this day, young and old people in the Gap claim that if you

go up Cry Baby Lane late at night and say, “Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby, cry,” you can

still hear the ghostly cries of the unnamed babies.

Mash Run was given its name because it is often said that so much moonshine

was made on this little creek that the water smelled sour like mash. When cattle drank

this water, depending on how much mash had been dumped in it, they got drunk. Mine

Hollow was named because it was thought that a man had discovered a mine there.

After he discovered the mine, he went home for tools. When he came back he could

never locate the mine, so he spent the remainder of his days wandering around looking

for the lost mine. After he died hunters reported seeing his ghost in Mine Hollow still

searching for the lost mine.

The people in Hopkins Gap carry a colorful map in their heads and hearts handed

down to them by the storytellers. So if a stranger asks for directions, he or she will likely

be given directions along with a tale of local history.

I dare say that no person who grew up in or near Hopkins Gap ever needed a

compass to find his or her way. When the sun slid down behind Second Mountain, we

knew that was the West. The other three directions were easy to determine. Each

person knew that spot on Second Mountain where the sun went down, so we never lost

our way even on a cloudy day. I felt very comfortable and protected by the mountains. I

was in their embrace at all times without realizing it until I left home.

When I moved to Lubbock, Texas in 1975 to work on my doctor’s degree, I made

every effort to take some of the mountains with me, not realizing I would be leaving

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