March 1, 1932. We ate the last of the potatoes today, because Daddy got into them again. Last year he stole about eight bushels, and we ran out at about the same time last year. By my reckoning, we should have at least 10 bushels still down in the cellar. When Jasper came up from the cellar this evening and said they were all gone except the eight little shriveled up ones he had in his hands, Mama went white and she pressed her lips together very hard for a minute before she said, “Oh, well, we can eat these tonight, and we still have plenty of other things to last us the winter.” Jasper pointed out that we could not eat these because we have to use them for seed, but Mama said we can borrow some from Pap-pa when planting time comes.
I really hate it that we have run out of potatoes, but Mama is right. We will not starve. We still have plenty of green beans, as well as two sacks of cornmeal, so we can feast on cornbread and muscadine jelly, and we have enough apples to last us awhile. Also, there are plenty of fish in the river. And we can hunt. I am glad we live in the country. We can always live off the land!
I hope Daddy has made plenty of whiskey out of these potatoes. Pap-pa, Walt Bittertree, Jake Hatton, and Jake’s friend are all wanting some, and there is hardly a drop to be found.
Waxing days, bitter winds, frozen nights.
The great orb turns her face from me, and lets me rest.
I seek the comfort of my silver children;
My creeping children still slumber in their burrows,
But soon, soon, they will wake and know hunger.
My upright children fear the starving,
And the Darkness that lurks like a copperhead.
March 2, 1932. Today was very windy. Spring is coming, and I say it cannot come too soon! Sardius, Beryl and I ran all the way home after school so we could go fishing before supper. We stopped at Darlene’s house on the way so she could go with us. We caught nine big ones, so we all will feast! Darlene’s mother was mighty happy to get those trout. She said she had been hankering for some for the longest time.
Sapphire sat up all by herself for a second today!
March 3, 1932. I am ascared I am growing too fast. My shoes that I bought just last October are getting tight, and I do not know if they will serve until Easter. I want another pretty pair of patent leather ones. I have plenty of money to buy them. I just have to figure out a way to make Mama think I got the money from Pap-pa by working for him.
There was some very bad news in the papers today. Mr. Charles Lindbergh, who was the first person to fly across the Atlantic all by himself, had a little baby who was kidnapped night before last. The kidnappers are demanding $50,000 to give him back. I feel very sorry for Mr. and Mrs. Lindbergh. I was only five years old when Lindy made his famous flight, but I remember it.
I am too sad to write any more today.
Waxing, cool days, cold nights
Green shoots nibble at my shore,
My silver children, my creeping children
Wake and shimmer, stir in the thickets,
In the shallows,
Seek out one another, and begin their seductions.
The cruel man lashes out
In fear and pain and anger.
The woman stands her ground,
The in-between child learns to hide.
March 5, 1932. I got up early and went out to the barn to see if Daddy had resupplied his stash behind the hay bales. They are very well hid, so that you have to either crawl over a high stack of them, or worm your way through a little pathway through them. I am little enough to be able to slip in through the cracks. I got back in there all right, but Daddy has not added to the store, so I will not be able to take any more from there. The woodshed is getting low, also, and so is the springhouse. Jake and his friends are just going to have to do without. I cannot risk taking any more without Daddy figuring it out.
While I was in there, I heard somebody come in. I kept quiet, because I do not want anybody to catch me hiding back there with Daddy’s whiskey, but I was able to peek out between the bales to see who it was. Uncle Woodrow and Mrs. Carlton were standing just in front of the door, just a little apart, facing each other. I could not see Uncle Woodrow’s face because his back was turned to me, but Mrs. Carlton’s face was a mess. She had a black eye and a big, long bruise all along the side of her cheek. Her lip was busted and swole up.
Uncle Woodrow’s shoulders were shaking. “I can’t stand this, Celeste,” he said. “You have to get away.”
“And where would I go?” she answered. “I can’t leave Darlene. At least she’s safe for now, but I can’t just leave her. I don’t have a penny to my name. He’d come after us.”
Uncle Woodrow just sank down onto one of the hay bales, his head in his hands. “I’ll come with you,” he said. “We’ll manage.”
Mrs. Carlton shook her head. “I have to get back. He’ll be waking up soon, and I have to get breakfast on the table. He’ll be nice enough for a while now. He got it out of his system, and we’ll be safe, especially if Darlene stays away.” Then she went out the door, leaving Uncle Woodrow sitting on the hay bale, sobbing his heart out. He is so tenderhearted. It just about breaks his heart to see anyone suffer, especially someone as nice as Mrs. Carlton.
I could not leave until he did, and so I just sat there a good long time until Uncle Woodrow finally eased himself up and went out. I waited for a few minutes, then slipped on back home. Darlene was there, having breakfast with everybody. Uncle Woodrow was not around. I expect we will not be seeing him for a while. Mama asked me where I had been, but I did not have much of an answer. I just said I had been out to the outhouse.
I bet I will not see Mrs. Carlton for a while. No doubt, she will be keeping her face hid from everybody for the next couple of weeks. Daddy is nowhere around, either. The boys have gone to the river. Darlene is as low as a snake’s belly. It is mighty quiet around here.
March 6, 1932. I am happy because Darlene came with us to Pap-pa’s house for dinner! I am hoping that now that she is spending some time with Miss Weston, she will get saved and baptized. She has already been baptized once, but that was when she was a baby, so it does not count.
Miss Weston came to Pap-pa’s house with us for dinner. While were eating, Miss Janey Jo surprised us all. She said, “Darlene, I have always wanted to have a little girl come and live with me. I know your mama needs you during the week, but on the weekends, she has Billy Ray to keep her company. How would you like to come stay with us on Saturdays and Sundays?”
Darlene’s mouth fell open, and so did mine. It would be just wonderful if Darlene could get away from Billy Ray when he was home. Miss Weston spoke up, saying, “What a wonderful idea! I could come over here sometimes on Saturdays and maybe we could do a little reading together.”
Mama got excited, too, saying that Miss Janey Jo would be so happy if Darlene would come and spend some time with her. Before we knew it, it was decided right then and there that Darlene would come every weekend. Darlene is very excited and happy, and I am, too. Planting season is coming up, and I will not be able to spend time with her, but I know she will have fun with Miss Janey Jo and Miss Weston.
March 7, 1932. We have started the spring planting. It has warmed up, melting the snow so that we have been able to plant for the past 2 days. We had to miss school, but one thing that really brightened my day was that I ordered my Easter shoes. I told Mama I was going to use my hair money, but she said she was going to pay for them, now that Daddy is working. She also bought Beryl, Ruby, and me some socks. Beryl and Ruby can get by with my old shoes for Easter this year, but Mama says that if Daddy keeps his job, she will buy everyone new shoes for Easter next year. Won’t we be a sight—all of us in our shiny new shoes!
I hope spring does come early, as the groundhog promised it would because we are running low on everything. We will be lucky to make it until the first crops come in. When Easter comes, I will wear my new patent leather Mary Janes, and I will have a new dress, too. It will be very nice to celebrate the risen Christ with all new clothes and shoes.
Mrs. Carlton and Darlene also are doing some planting, so Uncle Woodrow went over to help them.
March 13, 1932. Daddy got busy as soon as he got home yesterday, and we got the rest of the early planting done. I am very relieved it is over! Today is Sunday. Hurrah! A day of rest! My back is killing me.
I was very surprised to see that Otis Merriweather came to Miss Weston’s church today. His family goes over to that trashy Holy Roller church over in Big Gully where the people do not respect the Lord or His holy temple. They holler and carry on as if the Lord cannot hear them unless they are screaming their lungs out. The preacher is ignorant, too. He does not even have an eighth grade education, and cannot hardly even read, so he just thumps on the Bible and makes things up that are not true while pretending to read it.
Otis slipped in sometime during the singing to sit in the back row, so I did not see him until the end of the service, then he crept outside before I got out, but I could tell he was waiting for me when we walked past the big cedar tree in the front yard. I told everybody to go on, that I had left my hair clip inside and that I would catch up to them. Beryl offered to go back with me, and it took me a long time to talk her out of it. Finally, Sardius said, “Come on, Beryl, I will race you down to that fence over yonder,” and she could not pass that up. Sardius always lets her win, so she loves to race him. Sardius knew Otis was waiting for me. He is the sweetest, kindest brother of all.
After they all went on, I slipped back to the cedar, and sure enough, Otis was there. He stepped right out and tipped his cap as gentlemanly as could be, and he asked me if he could walk me home. I did not object, so we turned and started walking toward home as slowly as I could walk. I did not want Daddy looking back and seeing me walking with Otis Merriweather! He does not like the Merriweathers because they do not have good breeding. I have not told him that Otis’ mother has Scottish blood. He may not believe me because nobody has ever heard of the Cluecluckers.
Otis and I talked all the way back to the house. I reminded him that he was supposed to talk to his uncles about talking or beating some sense into Billy Ray. I told him about how Billy Ray beat Mrs. Carlton’s face bloody and begged him to do something, but he said he would not see his uncle until Easter because they live all the way over toward Ten Mile and he does not hardly ever get over that way. The family will be getting together for Easter, though, and he said he would do everything he could to get them over to take care of Billy Ray.
We went to dinner at Pap-pa’s and Miss Janey Jo’s as usual, and it was good to see Darlene there. Dinner was very good, especially since Darlene, Miss Weston, Uncle Woodrow, and Daddy were there. We had fried chicken, with mashed potatoes, gravy, biscuits, green beans, coleslaw, and chess pie for dessert! The only thing that put a damper on things was knowing Mrs. Carlton was stuck over in our holler with Billy Ray. I could tell Darlene was grieving about it, but she put on a happy face for us all.
I am pretty sure that Miss Weston is struck on Uncle Woodrow. She sat beside him today and talked to him and nobody else the whole time. Uncle Woodrow is nice to her, but since he is bashful, he does not make on over her like she makes on over him. I bet he is tickled about it inside, though.
Warm, waxing day, shorter nights.
The wind howls over the tender grass
That edges to my water,
Braving frost and Spring swells.
I howl, too, full and rushing, tumbling,
Running, free and wild,
Impatient to couple with the sea.
The laughing child seeks peace for her friend,
But she will deliver only sorrow.
March 13, 1932
Darling Cecilia,
What a wonderful weekend I have had! Pearl’s friend, Darlene, is now staying every weekend with my friend, Janey Jo Aiken. While that is a good thing, the circumstances of why she is there are not. Her stepfather is so abusive that everyone is worried about her safety. He already has beaten her bloody several times. You can see bruises all over her face, arms, and legs. The poor child has been a punching bag for a despicable, violent man.
Yesterday, I went over to help entertain her and to see what I could do to help with her learning. She is surprisingly academically advanced for her age, and for the fact that she has had little formal schooling.
She actually is a charming little girl, and rather interesting looking. She has features that set her apart as being from African descent, but she is afflicted with albinism, a condition I do not think entirely regrettable. Her skin is milky white, and her hair is the palest shade of blonde, although it is kinky. Her eyes are a beautiful blue, large and luminous. I think that she may grow into her thick facial features at some point and become quite striking.
We had a lovely day sewing, cooking, reading, and walking about the farm, feeding and observing the animals. She has a lively curiosity, a sweet nature, and an abundant sense of humor. I like her very much! It is such a pity that she probably will never be accepted within white society. I have been wracking my brain to try to figure out a way to get her into a decent school up North, but it will most likely be difficult. Perhaps I can find a respectable school for Coloreds. I hope the fact that her skin is not black does not mean that Negroes will ostracize her. What a predicament!
Today was a good day, as well. I had a nice conversation over dinner with Woodrow about ways to help Darlene. We talked about the plight of people of color and what we as a society owed to such benighted souls. While Woodrow was initially receptive, in the middle of the conversation, he suddenly became unengaged. It was clear something is troubling him. I hope it is not the memories of his unfortunate experiences during the Great War.
I miss you and love you, sweet Cecilia. I am happy to hear that you have captured the attentions of Harry Hamilton. What a catch he would be!
Good night. Please remember to pray for us all.
Emily
March 14, 1932
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
Our neighbor Billy Ray Carlton has a nice little flat-bottom boat. Mrs. Carlton and Darlene can handle it just fine. They pole up and down the river as if they have done it their whole lives, which, in fact, they have. They used to live on what they call a bayou, which is like a very slow, swampy river. Our river is very swift, but Mrs. Carlton and Darlene are not troubled by it. They put their backs into it, and Darlene holds the boat in the current while Mrs. Carlton picks up her pole and pushes upstream. They say the Little T. is not as dangerous as a bayou because the bayou is full of alligators and also snakes that live in the trees and drop on your head when you paddle underneath. We have snakes here, but I have never seen one in a tree, except for little black snakes and green snakes, and they do not count.
Last week, we took the boat all the way over to Gracie May’s Island. Someone has been camping there and has made a sturdy lean-to. We crawled in there and pretended it was our house. We had a good time fishing until it was time to go home for supper.
March 15, 1932. Darlene and her mother spent most of the day with Mama and the little girls today. With Billy Ray being gone during the week and on his best behavior on the weekends ever since he beat Mrs. Carlton so bad, things are getting happy again. By the time we had gotten home from school, they were all very jolly, sitting around, chattering in French, eating biscuits with persimmon jelly. Mrs. Carlton still looked pretty rough, but she was smiling and laughing as if she did not feel a thing. Uncle Woodrow was telling a big tale about an old fellow who called his rifle his “Hell by 90,” and claimed to have shot an eagle that was so high up in the sky that it took him 24 hours to fall to the ground. Mrs. Carlton topped that one with a story about a fellow down in the swamps who caught alligators by their tails and slung them around until they were so dizzy they could not walk. Then he lined them up in the mud and walked across the swamp on their backs. Jasper had to top that with a story about a fellow he had heard about who would not shoot at a squirrel until he had at least three in a row lined up in his sights so he could get all three with one shot. By the time they were done, we were all just slapping our knees, laughing fit to be tied.
March 16, 1932. My new shoes and socks came today! They are just beautiful, so shiny, with thin straps across the tops that stand out against my white socks. I am not supposed to wear them until Easter, but I did put them on and prance around a little bit before supper. Darlene tried them on, but they were too small for her, so she could not wear them very long without them hurting her feet. I wish Darlene could have new shoes for Easter, too. She is wearing the ugliest old clodhoppers you ever saw. They are too big for her, and she clomps around in them looking like a poor little orphan.
March 18, 1931. I forgot to write in my Journal yesterday, there was so much excitement. Ralph Lee is in big trouble. He went on a rampage the other day, stealing tobacco and a pistol from Greenbrier store, and then late that night, he went to Mable Hathaway’s house and climbed into her bedroom window. She woke up as he was trying to get into the bed with her, and she screamed her head off. Her daddy busted in and just about killed him before he trussed him up and threw him in the woodshed. He had to lie there all night until Mr. Hathaway went in to get the Sheriff to arrest him the next morning.
Now Ralph Lee is sitting in jail, and his mama has been over here crying fit to be tied. Mr. Bittertree says he will not go bail him out, that he will just sit there until he has served his time and has figured out how to behave himself. He says Mrs. Bittertree has made a baby out of him for the last time.
I feel sorry for Mrs. Bittertree. She has only the one son, so it is natural that she would dote on him. If she had a houseful of young’uns, she might be a little more prudent about raising them, but an only child is a treasure that she feels must be coddled. I also feel the least bit sorry for Ralph Lee, if I look for it. Mostly, though, I am glad he got what was coming to him. I hear he will be in jail for a long time for stealing that pistol.
I also felt very sorry for Mable Hathaway. I told Jasper that I cannot imagine how fearful it would be to wake up to Ralph Lee’s nasty old breath on my face, and that I could see why he would want to kill him, being as how Mable was his sweetheart. Jasper smiled at me then and told me that Mable was not his sweetheart. She has been struck on Tom Savington over by Sweetwater for months now. Jasper said he never had a chance with her. Now I feel sorriest of all for Jasper.
March 19, 1932. The most amazing thing happened today! Daddy was home early, and I could tell he was planning on leaving to go work at his still, but before he got out the door, Miss Weston came by. It was a good thing I was still up in the loft getting dressed, because I had just put britches on, but I had the chance to change into a dress before I went down. Mama, Daddy, Jasper, and Sardius were all sitting in the front room, talking to her.
She floored every one of us, except for Sardius, who seemed to be in on it. Miss Weston wants him to go to Chicago this summer to begin high school at a fancy boarding school! He will have a scholarship, which means that all his room, board, and schooling will be free.
That about dumbfounded us all, except Sardius, who looked about as excited as if he had just seen Santa Claus in the flesh. It was plain that he really wants to go. Miss Weston said Sardius is so bright she believes he should have every opportunity to get a good education. After high school, he probably can get a scholarship to go to college as well!
There was a general ruckus, where Mama cried, then laughed, then cried some more, then she hugged up Sapphire very tight and hugged Sardius, and said this was the answer to prayer. Daddy looked worried, but what could he say in the face of Mama’s and Sardius’ happiness? He started to say something about Sardius being needed here to help run the farm, but Mama jumped all over him. “Richard Wallace, we will be fine. There is no better investment than an education for your children, and there are better things to do than work your life away toiling on a farm. With you working, we can always buy what we need to eat.”
He finally nodded his head. When Mama has won an argument, he knows better than to take it up again. Mama is sweet, but no one had better stand between one of her children and something good.
Then things got crazier still. Miss Weston cleared her throat and said, “And I believe that Jasper has a great deal of potential, as well. I understand that he has been keeping up with his studies even though he has not been able to go to school. If you will allow us, I would like for him to take some tests. If he does well, I feel confident that we can make the same offer to him.”
You could have heard a pin drop. Then Jasper jumped up, shouting, Mama started crying again. Daddy looked like somebody had walloped him with a stick of firewood, but nobody noticed him. Sardius, Jasper, and Mama were all hugging each other and me, and Miss Weston was laughing, and Daddy could not get a word in edgewise. We all know that Jasper will pass those tests. He has already completed the schoolwork up through the 10th grade. Jasper is smart.
I was so excited, I wanted to run tell Darlene, but then I remembered that she would be at Pap-pa’s house today, and since I was about to bust with the good news, I just grabbed up Beryl and squeezed her until she squeaked.
We all worked hard today, planting and getting food cooked for everyone, but nobody minded one bit. It was like we were floating on air the whole day.
March 20, 1932. Daddy got drunk today. He was gone by the time we got up this morning, and Mama never even mentioned his name. She just said we all had to get dressed and go to church and be faithful to the Lord for all his blessings, and we left, wondering what we would come home to.
We went to Pap-pa’s for dinner, except for Daddy, of course, and everybody was happy about Sardius’ scholarship and Jasper’s maybe scholarship, but the day did not feel right. We were all worried about what Daddy was up to and what kind of mood he would be in. Even Miss Weston seemed a little nervous. Uncle Woodrow did not hardly say a word.
Daddy got home about the time we were getting ready for bed. I do not want to write down what he said or did. It just makes me sick to think about it.
March 21, 1932
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
I am very proud of both of my brothers! Sardius has won a very important scholarship to study at Wheaton Academy in Chicago, Illinois, and my other brother Jasper will probably also win the same kind of scholarship. All he has to do is pass some tests, which I am sure he will do. He is very smart, and he has kept up his studies at home even though he has not been able to attend school for the past year.
Both of my brothers are going to go far in life. Sardius will become a preacher or a missionary and Jasper will build and fly airplanes. Perhaps he will break Charles Lindbergh’s record when he flies solo around the world. I hope to become a missionary with Sardius and perhaps Jasper will fly us to the far away parts of the world where there are no roads so we can share the Gospel to people in the darkest places.
March 21, 1932. Mama had to drag Daddy out of bed this morning to go in to work with Mr. Sutton. I have never seen him this bad. I cannot tell you how glad we all are that he is gone.
Today is a big day in the life of a farmer. Tonight is the full moon, the Worm Moon, by the Cherokee reckoning. That means that it is the time when the ground is warming up and the worms are coming out, and it is time to start in on farming for serious. It is going to be a hard two weeks, especially for the men and boys. They have to turn the soil here, at Uncle Woodrow’s and Pap-pa’s place, and they probably will help out Mrs. Carlton, too. Billy Ray does not work a lick when he is home. He is as trifling as he is mean, so Mrs. Carlton and Darlene will starve if she is not able to make at least a small garden.
We have passed the Spring equinox. That means from now it will be warming up, and the days will be longer than the nights, but no one feels like celebrating that. Poor Uncle Woodrow, Jasper, and Sardius got started early this morning, plowing over at Pap-pa’s place while Beryl and I traipsed off to school. It is bad to have to walk to school in the cold and the wind, but we get there sooner or later. Jasper, Sardius, and Uncle Woodrow have to be out in it all day. It is cold today, and that makes it worse. When we got home, they were still out there.
By the time they finally came in, they were filthy, chilled, and bone tired. Their faces were as red as fire from windburn, and their hands and lips were chapped. Mrs. Carlton made up some honey and beeswax to rub over their hands and faces. Darlene and Mrs. Carlton helped us cook dinner and carry water for the baths. As tired as he was, Uncle Woodrow helped, but Sardius and Jasper were so plumb wore out that Mama told them to just sit until supper.
After they all had had a good soak, Mama sent them on to bed while we finished the dishes and cleaned up their muddy mess. It is hard to be a man. Women have to work hard, too, but at least most of them do not have to plow if there is a man around.
March 24, 1932. Beryl and I have laid out of school to help at home. The boys and Uncle Woodrow have dirtied their clothes so much that Mama cannot stand for them to put them back on, even though they will just get them filthy again plowing every day. She has been scrubbing clothes and doing spring cleaning. Beryl and I stayed home to help carry water, take care of Sapphire and Ruby, and to cook the meals.
Warming, waxing days
I have been in a frenzied embrace,
The Great Orb still holds me.
I am full and strong, singing like a winter wind,
Surging with white spray and power.
The Spirit grieves with a memory,
Death grins for now,
But will weep at the reckoning.
March 25, 1932. It is Good Friday, the day they hung Jesus on the cross to die. I am glad that real Christians do not think of Jesus hanging on the cross, but instead think of Him as risen and sitting at the right hand of God the Father. The poor Catholics never think of Him in any other way but always hanging on that cross, always suffering. Mrs. Carlton wears a cross that has Jesus hanging on it. You can see the nails in His hands and feet. It is too sad to think about it.
March 26, 1932. When Daddy got home early this morning, he did not even sit down. He told Jasper and Sardius not to get up for another hour and went out to the field and started plowing. I am very glad he let the boys get some extra sleep. They need it.
Even though Daddy is a wonderful man when he is at himself and not drinking, we are all mad at him. The last time we saw him, he was cussing out Mama and all the rest of us, and telling her to pack up her rags and just get out of his life. Even though he is nice now, it still stings when I think of how he was last Sunday. I cannot get over his meanness. None of us can, except for Ruby. She forgets.
I do have to admit, though, that Daddy put in a good day’s work, which took a burden off everyone else.
Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. I am glad we get to take the day off.
Cool, waxing days, shorter nights.
Holiness walks upon the land, upon my waters,
It stills the running rapids and
Holds my silver children,
As well as my creeping ones.
My upright children sleep in solemn peace,
Secure that Life will triumph.
March 27, 1932. It is Easter Sunday! The Lord is risen! Today we gave thanks for the Risen Christ and for the season of planting and for the warm weather that is coming. I wore my new shoes and the new dress that Mama made for me for my birthday. It has tucks all down the front. It is blue and yellow, and I feel beautiful in it.
Daddy did not go to church with us today, but stayed home and plowed with Uncle Woodrow and Pap-pa because we have only nine more days in the killing time to finish the first plowing and for all of the second plowing. Thank goodness the second plowing goes easier. He let the boys come on to church with us, though. It was a good Easter Sunday, but Mama does not like it when Daddy does not come to church with us. Miss Weston asked about him and about Uncle Woodrow, and I think Mama was scundered that they did not honor the most holy day of the year, but instead went out and plowed all day. I am glad they did, though. The plowing has to get done, and it is not their fault that Easter is early this year.
Warming, waxing days, cool, clear nights
My upright children rejoice in the Spirit
They wear their fine things,
Proud, humble, thankful.
The Spirit laughs aloud,
Watching Death slink into the grave.
March 27, 1932
Dear Mother and Father,
A glorious Easter to you! Our Lord is risen! Praise Him from whom all blessings flow, and blessings to you, too.
I wish you could be here to share this holy day with me, and to see the beauties of spring in this enchanting place. It was such a pleasure to worship with my church family here. If you could see how much they all love their Lord Jesus, how they listen to the sermons, and how they praise with their songs, you would know why I love them all so much. And if you could see the glories of these mountains, so blue, green, and white with blossoms, you would know why I love being here so much!.
I hope your day has felt as holy and as glorious as mine has. Peace be unto you, dear family. I love you dearly.
Emily
March 27, 1932
Dear Jonathan,
Yesterday, I received the beautiful little chocolate Easter egg you sent. What a lovely thought for such a special occasion as this most holy of celebrations. You can be assured that I will enjoy it enormously. You are so very kind to me, and I am blessed to call you friend.
Your comrade in Christ,
Emily
March 27, 1932
Dear Cecilia,
Blessings to you on this glorious day! I miss you, but I wish you were here rather than I were there. You cannot imagine how beautiful this spring is becoming, with the whole earth greening right before my eyes, flowers popping out minute by minute, the sun glowing like a golden ball. The air is so sweet, and so pure you almost feel as if you are breathing the Holy Breath of God. I am in love with this place and all the people here!
The day would have been perfect, except that not all of the men were able to come to church services this morning because they are pressed to get in the spring plowing. As you may imagine, I was saddened to see so few of them in the congregation this morning, but their places were taken up by a number of women and children who do not normally attend my church services. It was gratifying to see many of my own precious students in their seats today. Praise God from whom all blessings flow!
Good night, my sweetest of sisters.
Emily
March 28, 1932
My School Journal, grade 7, Miss Weston’s class
By Pearl Wallace
It is plowing season. We plant by the signs, so we have a two-week time period between the full moon and the dark moon to get the plowing done. That is the killing time. This is also the time to plant the below ground vegetables like potatoes, carrots, and radishes. We plant the above ground vegetables during the waxing moon. In Ecclesiastes, it says, “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up.”
My father, uncle, and brother Jasper do the heavy work of plowing, although my father has to stay in Maryville Monday through Friday, where he works for the railroad. He has a very important job on the trains making sure only the proper people ride them. It is hard for him to have to work all during the week and then come home to plow on the weekends. Sometimes he has to miss church on Sundays because of it, but he says that is one of the sacrifices that farmers have to make.
March 29, 1932. It is Easter break so we do not have to back to school again until tomorrow. Miss Weston thinks about her students and takes into consideration that people have to take time off school to do the plowing and planting. She spreads out our breaks over the spring planting time so people do not have to miss too many of their lessons. If she had taken the whole week, she could have gone home to her family in Chicago, but she knows we will have to take more time off later on when planting begins. She also did not want us to miss church on Easter Sunday. It would not be the same to have to go to the Holy Roller church over in Big Gully.
Sardius, Jasper, and Uncle Woodrow hit the fields early this morning. Daddy has gone back to work. Mama and I helped in the fields some, but after dinner, she sent me out to catch some trout so that I did not have to work all afternoon.
I stopped off at Darlene’s house to see if she could join me, but before I got across the creek, I saw a truck and a car parked up on the dirt road above our house. At first, I though it must be somebody lost, and I almost hailed them, but I could see through the trees that seven men had gotten out, and they had set about to pulling sheets out of the back of the automobile. I thought that was strange, so I kept quiet.
I could not figure out what they were up to! All of them set to putting on those sheets over their clothes, like white robes, and they had pointy hoods that covered their faces, with eye-holes cut out. One of them took a big wood cross out of the truck and hoisted it over his shoulder, but then he laid it down, fiddled with his mask and hood, then yanked it off and tied a handkerchief around his face.
One of the other men said, “Hank, you’re out of regulation.” Hank just snorted, saying he couldn’t see a thing through those G.D. eyeholes, and he picked up the cross again. Then they all began cutting through the woods. It was the oddest thing I had ever seen, grown men dressing up like ghosts for a mumming.
I almost laughed out loud, but all of a sudden, I got a funny feeling creeping up the back of my spine as if something was telling me that these men were up to some meanness. I stayed quiet, slipping back up into the woods and hiding so I could see what they were up to. They came through the trees, walking as if they had some place important to go, and before they got to the creek, they turned and went over toward Darlene’s house. I followed them until I got close enough to hear them talking.
They knocked at the door, but it looked like no one was home. I figured Darlene and Mrs. Carlton were out on the river already, and Billy Ray would be over at Big Creek. They knocked a few more times, then just stood on the front porch, looking like they did not know what to do.
One of them spat on the porch and said, “They ain’t home.” That told me right away that they were ignorant trash and that I had better not let them see me, but then, another one mentioned Billy Ray’s name and I realized who they were. They were Otis Merriweather’s uncle and cousins come to take care of Billy Ray. That made me feel better, but still, something did not seem right, so I stayed hid and waited to see what they would do. They just walked around the yard, peeking in the windows, until finally, they figured out that no one was home, and they turned and left, walking back through the woods, their heads hanging like they were disappointed. I waited until I heard the automobiles start up, and then I went on to the river to try to get those fish for supper.
I wish I had told Darlene and Mrs. Carlton that they might be coming. I did not count on them being dressed up as if for a mumming. I just figured they would come and knock on the door like anybody and politely ask to see Billy Ray. I realized then that Darlene and her mother might be ascared to see seven men dressed up like ghosts standing out on their front porch.
I would have told Mama about it, but when I got home, Ruby was throwing a tantrum right on the kitchen floor, and Sapphire was screaming, too. Beryl was trying to comfort Ruby, but she was not doing much good at it. The boys and Uncle Woodrow were coming in, hungry for their supper. By the time we got it all sorted out and everyone was happy again, it was time for bed and I did not want to go running to Mama when she was so tired.
Warming, waxing days, cool dark nights
The taste of evil hovers in the air.
It poisons the greening.
It seeps into my lifeblood.
Miasma filters through my bedrock.
The Spirit grieves while Darkness sways,
Dancing the dance of Death
March 30, 1932. We were back at school today. I told Otis about his folks turning up at Billy Ray’s house yesterday and asked him why they got all dressed up as if they were going to a mumming. He said he reckoned they had to hide who they were because they did not want to start any feuding. That made sense to me. If Billy Ray knew who was giving him what-for, he might get up all his family or friends and go pay Otis’ family back. I know all about feuding families. The Hatfields and the McCoys up in West Virginia fought for over 11 years, and before it was all said and done, nearly a dozen folks were murdered. The Wilsons and the Joneses from over on Indian War Path got into a feud over the Jones’ dog killing some of the Wilson’s chickens, and it lasted nearly a year. Sammy Wilson is still in jail for cutting off Andrew Jones’ ear. I reckon if I was going to go meddling in another family’s business, I might think it a good idea to dress like a ghost, too.
I wish there was time to talk all this over with Mama and Uncle Woodrow, and even Sardius and Jasper, but they are all so busy with the plowing, and so tired at the end of the day, I do not want to burden them. Beryl is too little to talk about such things, so I reckon I will just keep my mouth shut for now.
March 31, 1932. Maybe it was not such a good idea for those Cluecluckers to be coming out to work on Billy Ray. They might ascare Mrs. Carlton and Darlene, and it might not be worth it even if they did have to give Billy Ray a good talking to. It might even make it worse, and now I feel bad that I have turned them loose. I think I will tell Otis tomorrow to call them off. You never know what things you set in motion when you start getting other people involved in your business. In this case, it was not even my business. It was Darlene’s and Mrs. Carlton’s.
I did not have a chance to go over to Darlene’s house to tell them about the Clueclukers coming to see Billy Ray. I had to help in the fields after school.