Living the High Life

I am sure you have heard the phrase, “living the high life!”  Where did it come from and what does it mean?  Is it a life style?  Is it a dance?  Is it a product?  Different people have different ideas.  But, what did it mean on the mountain in the 1930s?

Some people think of the high life as being carefree or economically well-off.  It may have derived from another phrase, “eating high on the hog”.  The idea of eating high on the hog is that rich people can afford the more pricy cuts of pork and those more expensive cuts are located higher on the pig’s body, like pork chops or tenderloin.  These cuts are located along the back bone and are the most expensive cuts of pork.  So, if you can afford to buy these, then you are living “high on the hog”. 
 Others tell me that high life refers to Miller’s beer.  It has been around for a long time and the phrase high life has been part of their advertising for as long as Miller’s has been nationally advertised. During the 1960s the high life referred to getting drunk or blitzed on drugs.  I think as they burned up brain cells the term was shortened to just getting high and is still a common phrase today.  Still others talk about a dance style that came out of Africa in the early 1900s.  The dance combines African rhythms, horns and Western culture into a wild frenzy of dance.  However, there was another product in the early 1900s that has been nearly forgotten.

 Around 1900 a druggist, T. H. Lewis, in Dilley, TX, began bottling and selling carbon disulphide under the name “High Life”.  The purpose of the concoction was to protect dried grains or beans from weevils and ants.  During those early days, the food that was raised on the mountain was about the only food consumed on the mountain.  Other than a few staples like coffee, flour, sugar, and salt, most food was grown and processed right on the farm.  One problem was storing the food and keeping both large and small critters out of that storage.  A large tub of shelled and dried beans or peas would get a small dose of High Life stirred throughout.  That kept bugs from getting into the beans and if any did the High Life would kill them.  The secret was to get enough stirred into the beans but not so much High Life that it made the beans hard and tough so they would not cook or make the family sick.  You had to be real careful when putting in the High Life not only to get the measure just right, but to be certain you did not get any on your skin.  Undiluted High Life is an extreme skin irritant and burns like a red hot iron if it touches your skin.  That extreme burning sensation gave a whole new purpose for the product and a whole new meaning to high life. Just ask Grandpa.

Grandpa Dewey drove the school bus for a number of years.  The bus was always parked here on the mountain when it was not in use.  I guess that made Grandpa the mechanic, too.  In the winter months, he would back the bus up the steep drive all the way to the garden gate.  That way, if the bus did not want to start on one of those cold mountain mornings, he could roll her down the hill and pop the clutch out to jump start the thing.  The strategy worked real well and there were not too many mornings when the bus failed to make the run to school.  The unique parking location did attract attention from some neighbors.  Not so much from the people.  No, it was Ben’s cows who seemed to be most curious and attracted to the bus.

Neighbor Ben was not known for keeping his fence in the best state of repair and his cows would get out pretty much anytime they wanted.  In fairness to Ben, open range was still pretty common in the area.  So, cattle not being kept under tight fence was not a big deal most of the time, and it certainly was not uncommon for cows to be out.  I suspect the real issue had started earlier when Ben complained that those James kids rode down the fence.  Ben kind of sputtered when he talked and blinked his eyes continually.  He must have been intimidated by Dewey that day when he sheepishly told Dewey that the kids were riding down his fences.  All it took was a hint of criticism about a James kid to set Grandpa off.  “Ben. I’ve got twelve kids and I sure as h@#$ can’t know where every one is and what they are doing every minute, but I am sure they did not damage your $!#%$^&* sorry fence!”    Ben blinked and sputtered and went back home.  Dewey and Ben were not good friends before that time and there was little if any conversation between them after that day.  Many frosty mornings, Dewey would go to start the bus and find some of Ben’s cows bedded down around and even under the bus.  Maybe they had the big yellow bus confused with the big red barn.  Cows are probably color blind anyway.  Not only did Grandpa have to deal with the cows, he had to deal with the fertilizer deposits they made all around the bus.  Can’t you imagine the colorful words of description coming out of Grandpa’s mouth as he ran the cows off and then stepped in a super sized pie!  Well, if you can’t imagine it, just ask one of his kids.  They can describe it for you.

One morning, Dewey decided that he’d had enough.  Several cows were bedded down around and under the bus.  “I’m going to fix those d#$%d cows!” Grandpa walked among them with a bottle of High Life putting a drop or two on each cow’s backside as he went.  He even sprinkled a little on the ones under the bus.  Seconds later the herd exploded into a stampede.  The bus nearly turned over and could have been torn to pieces as the cows lying under the bus tried to jump up and run. Tails switching, calves bawling and hooves thundering, they went over the hill toward Ben’s.  I expect they did not respect the fence anymore going back to Ben’s than they had coming over to the James place.  Most say that the cows never came up around the bus after that.  They also say that this episode did nothing to improve relations between Dewey and Ben.

Apparently, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.  If Dewey could use High Life to motivate animals to a new high speed life, it would only be natural to expect some of his kids to do the same.  You know that if dad does something his boys are more than likely going to give it a shot as well; but, what about the girls?  The poem says, “Sugar and spice, everything nice, that’s what girls are made of…”.  Evidently that poet either did not spend any time on the mountain or he was a fiction writer.  Those James girls could hold their own, if not whip most boy,s and their mischief was definitely not limited by their gender.

One day, Jean and Goldie were home alone and just a little bit bored. They were on the porch and a bunch of goats were in the yard.  These were not Ben’s goats, either. They belonged there. It was their home.  Jean looked at Goldie and said, “Wouldn’t it be funny to High Life those goats?”  Goldie replied, “Sure that would be funny, let’s put a little bit on them!”   Goldie says that’s the funniest thing she can remember about the goats…running, jumping and bleating, trying to get away from the burning sensation caused by High Life.  In fact, it was so funny they gave a dose to every animal they could get close to that day; dogs, cows, chickens, whatever they could get close to or whatever came close.  It is probably a good thing that no one else was home that day.  They probably would have High Lifed them.

So, if one of those James sisters tells you she is bored, you better find something for her to do before she finds something to do to you.  Thank goodness they took up quilting and High Life is no longer sold!

It is my theory that ole T. H. Lewis first test marketed his product in Africa.  The instructions were not properly translated and you guessed it; the African High Life Dance was born. I have to wonder if this inspired the “happy dance” the girls do when they finish a quilt?

The statute of limitations for these and most other events on the mountain have long since past.  So, please, you are free to share your High Life memories.

And that's the way I heard it on the mountain,
Tony Peoples

Hi Ho Silver and Away

When children come to the mountain it is amazing the adventures that come to life.  The time there is really not a “visit” because the mountain is home.  It is interesting how the influences from wherever the children live and go to school can all come together and be blended in to one common event or adventure on the mountain.   The likes of Roy Rogers, Annie Oakley, James Bond, Al Capone, Babe Ruth, Mickey Mantle, Bart Star and a thousand other celebrities all roamed that mountain at some time in the minds and adventures of the children who played there.

One day David James, Donnie Hudson and Tony Peoples were playing outside and decided they needed a horse to enhance the adventure.  The characters of the day were Roy Rogers and the Lone Ranger.  Oh, they all had toy guns and various other cowboy accessories like the hat and some rolled up hay twine for a lariat.  But, if they only had a horse it would be even more fun.

Ben Vanderpool lived on the adjacent farm and owned the fiery steed that was about to become “Silver” for the day.  Normally, this horse was a work animal pulling a plow, wagon or sled for Ben.  But on weekends and other play days he was fair game for whoever caught him and rode him.  In truth, the old horse was so docile that most days you could just walk up to him anywhere in the field, jump up on his back and ride.  You did not need a saddle.  The sway in his back was like having one built in.  Sometimes Ben or whomever we could find would saddle the horse for us and other times we just tied rope or twine to his halter and jumped on his back.  What seemed like a horseback riding to us was actually being perched on the old horses back while he grazed and meandered through the fields.

Catching the horse and getting it to cooperate was no big deal.  Who was going to ride first was a big deal.  Not every decision or activity went without a little disagreement.  We certainly knew that if any adult caught us arguing it was “game over”.  The horse would go home and this Lone Ranger episode was done.  So, who was going to ride first?  All of us!  It was the only fair way.  As in most of our activities, there was a pecking order about how things are done.  So, David was older than Donnie and Donnie was older than Tony and that’s how we were arranged on the horse.  They always told me that  they were "oldest” and got to go first at everything.  That is the way it was and I would like to take this opportunity to remind them that they are both “still” the oldest and that I am younger.

Off we went, to right wrongs and catch the bad guys and protect the mountain from an Indian uprising.  We rode at the speed of a plow horse all over the mountain fields and yard for a good part of the day.  Occasionally all three of us screaming and kicking could cause old Ben’s horse to break into a trot or even about three steps of a gallop but, mostly just a casual walk plodding along from one clump of grass to the next.

The signature move of the Lone Ranger was to have Silver rare up on his hind legs with the lone ranger calling out, “Hi Ho Silver” and away they would run into the horizon.  It seemed that most cowboy features of the day could not end without the star riding off into the sunset.  Wow, what if we could get our old white plow horse to do that?   We tried every way we could think of to get the old horse to rare up.  It did not occur to us that if he had rared up, we would have all three slid off into a heap behind the horse.  After all we had watched the lone ranger and Roy Rogers do it at least once a week and they never fell off.  Okay, let’s do this!

The plan was to get Ben’s horse going up the hill on the North side of the house and on to the earth roofed fruit cellar.  Perhaps the sudden increase in elevation would inspire the horse to rare up.  If not, it was as close as we were going to get. So, when we get there we would all draw our toy guns and yell, “Hi Ho Silver and Away!”  Then turn and run him as fast as he would go back down the hill.   Here we go; with all three kicking we were able to get the horse to a half hearted lope up the hill and on to the cellar. The horse stopped on top of the cellar like he had rehearsed it or heard our plan.  We all drew our toy guns and screamed Hi Ho Silver and, and, and wait one of the toy guns was a cap gun and it was loaded. 

I heard years later a story told by uncle Lytle that might help explain the next few seconds.  It seems that he and probably Gerald, Lex, and maybe Bruce had been to town and bought some firecrackers.  They used firecrackers to flush out squirrels when they ran into holes or at least that is why they said they bought them.  One day, they saw Ben’s old horse laying down right next to the fence and decided to practice their stalking skills.  They crept along the fence until they were right next to the horse and gently pulled his tail under the fence.  Then they tied a string of firecrackers to the tail.  When the firecrackers were lit and began to go off the plow horse suddenly became a thoroughbred quarter horse.  Funny how when you are running for you life, you can always set a new personal high speed record.

So, now, we all know what that horse was thinking when the caps went off and he had no intensions of being around for the next shot. Terrified and remembering the firecrackers from years earlier, the horse wheeled and took off in a full all out run toward his barn on Ben’s place. That was NOT the same route that we came up the hill.  This new direction would be through the chicken yard past the out house and on to the barn.  We did not have to navigate all these obstacles because before we even get to the chicken yard is the clothes line and clothesline posts.

Remember, David is sitting in front and he can see what’s coming.  He is yelling, “Jump off, Jump off now!  He is scrunched up against the horse’s neck by Donnie and Tony sitting behind him and he can’t get off.  Tony bailed off and rolled down the hill to safety.  Then Donnie jumped down and rolled safely away.  David, well, he should have started yelling sooner, I guess.  Because before he could get his leg thrown over to jump he was at the clothes line post.  The wooden cross member broke with a loud crack as David rode through it.  That knocked David off the back of the horse and gave the horse new speed to head over the hill toward Ben’s.

 Miraculously, David was not seriously hurt and the three amigos lived to ride and play another day.  Everyone was convinced that the old horse would never hurt anyone and I am certain we have all done worse things to the old horse without any adverse results.  This did teach us though that if you are going to climb on the back of a fiery steed named Silver…you better be prepared for a ride.  I can still see that old horse, with tail flying, dirt and rocks kicked up by his hooves going over the hill  disappearing into the horizon.  Just like the ending of a Lone Ranger episode...well, sort of.

And that's the way I heard it on the mountain,

Tony Peoples

Grandma James on Birth Control

In the 1970s people were talking openly about things they used to discuss only in private.  I guess after the wild things that you hear about taking place in the 1960's people just opened up and said anything.  One time the "girl talk" around the kitchen turned to birth control.  What kind of pills or methods worked and other things that I still don't talk about.  Grandma looked at the others and said, "I sure am glad they didn't have birth control in my time.  I have thought about all twelve of my children and I can not imagine which one I would have chosen not to have."
Grandma, I can not imagine this family or the world without any one of them either, thank you.
And that's the way I heard it on the mountain,
Tony Peoples

Bruce’s Rocket Bike Ride Down Halsey Hill

Not all of the stories posted on “Heard it on the Mountain” took place on the mountain.  If they did we would have called the BLOG “Happened on the Mountain”.  They do all involve people who lived on the mountain or their friends and family.  Many of the stories are not original from the poster but rather stories we have heard over the years.  Please, feel free to share your memories in the comments section below each blog or send them to Tony to be published.  Speaking of heard it on the mountain, here is one that has been told hundreds of times and is one of my favorites.

In the 1950’s and 60’s Jean and J.C. Hudson lived on Halsey street in Saint Joseph, Mo.  We lived in Kansas City, Mo.  Neither of us could afford to travel to the beloved mountain in Arkansas every weekend.  So, we supplemented our need by being with family from there.  It seemed like almost every weekend one family would travel to the other family’s home to visit. 

The Rocket Ride happened one Friday evening just about dark.  It was right after we arrived from K.C.  We would leave just as soon as Dad got off work Friday and sometimes we would get to St. Joe before dark.  When we arrived the folks would go in to the house to visit but, for us boys ,it was game on to see how much fun we could have before dark and this Friday was about to deliver some outstanding fun.

It was Jimmy who pointed at a bicycle laying in the yard and said he and Donnie had rode it down the hill (Halsey Street) all the way from Mansfield, the top of the hill, down to Blake, the bottom of the hill and successfully made the turn on to Blake.  That was a good thing because it is a tee intersection at the bottom of the hill.  Bruce replied, “big deal.”   Jimmy said, “Yeah, but I never used the brakes all the way down.”   “Did you pump?” Bruce asked.  “What? Are you nuts?  Of course we pumped.  All the way down to our house!” “I can too and I’ll pump all the way down!” Bruce fired back.

You see, Bruce was the oldest of the four (Bruce, Jimmy, Donnie and Tony) and by his own declaration the smartest and coolest.  Talk about cool, his hair, clothes and taps on his shoes said it all.  Have you seen the early pictures of Elvis Presley?  That curl in front and ducktail behind was Bruce.  He would spend what seemed like hours in the bathroom getting every hair exactly right.  He was the Fonz before there was a Fonz.  He often wore tight jeans (with turned up cuffs) and tee shirts to show the girls his ripped chest and to show the guys he was the coolest.  When he was not around his parents you could probably see his red Pall Mall cigarette pack rolled up in the sleeve.  The coolest of cool though was his taps.  In that time, most shoes had leather soles and did not wear well on city sidewalks.  So, someone came up with the idea of putting a piece of steel on the portion of heel and toe that wore out first.  That way, the taps as they were called could be replaced rather than the entire heel or sole.  Yes, back then they actually repaired shoes.  Bruce worked part time selling magazines door to door.  So, he was able to convince Mom and Dad to allow taps.  Bruce took it a step further and got horseshoe taps.  They wrapped completely around the heel cap surface that touched the ground and yes they were horseshoe shaped.   Now, if you had horseshoe taps, you were the coolest of cool.  Since Bruce was the oldest and strongest and could beat us up, we conceded he was the coolest.

After some bantering, Bruce grabbed the bicycle and started up the hill. Calling Halsey Street a hill is about like calling the Colorado River rafting experience a boat ride.  It is one of the steepest residential one block stretches of pavement you can imagine.  Almost every home has a retaining wall or steep terrace so that there could be a level area on the lot to build the house.   The area is known as King Hill and a city water tower is located there.  So, let’s just say the best known directions in the neighborhood were up and down, particularly at the Hudson house.  Their home was located about midway on the block.  It was a great vantage point to watch the hill overwhelm those who tried to go up or down.  Going up, many bikes, cars, skaters, and pedestrians would give up about the time they got halfway.  Going down, this is where many decided they were in deep trouble and would careen into one of the yards hoping to stop more gently in someone’s yard rather than at the Blake street intersection at the bottom of the hill.

True to his claim, Bruce jumped on the bike and began pedaling down the hill with all his might.  Now, this bike was not anything like the sleek racing or mountain bikes of today.  It did not have ten speeds and fine tuned suspension.    Most bikes up through the 1960’s only had one speed and what is called a coaster brake.  By rotating the pedals backward, the rear brake was applied and there were no front brakes at all.  This particular bike actually belonged to Jimmy Stamps who lived up the street and it was an “English racer”.  It had skinny tires not the balloon tires we all had on our cruisers.  It had three speeds and that was amazing to me.  It was one of only a few like it that I had even seen.  It did not have a coaster brake.  It had two hand brakes, front and rear.  Now these brakes were on the handlebars and when you squeezed them at the handlebars, rubber pads located on the frame would close on the wheel like disc brakes on your car today.  There were cables that ran from the hand levers to the calipers to activate the brakes or at least that is the way the bike was designed.

Earlier, when Jimmy was bragging to Bruce that they had gone down the hill not using the brakes at all, they neglected to tell Bruce one minor detail.  Jimmy had since taken the insides of those brake cables out or had disconnected them from the calipers.  So, Bruce was pedaling for all he was worth down the great Halsey Hill with absolutely not one chance in the world that this was going to end up anything less than a monstrous crash.  We do not know if Bruce had a little twinge of fear or if he just wanted to let off his intense pedaling to show off to the gallery (us), you know “strike a pose” as he went by.  Whatever motivated him, he made that midway hill discovery I described earlier, that he was in a heap of trouble.  Bruce turned pale and his knuckles were white  from his death grip on the handlebars as he flew past the three of us watching from the side walk screaming, “Nooooo   BRAAAAAAAAKESS !”  to which the Hudson boys screamed back in unison, “Nooo  SHHHHHHHH___TTT !” as he accelerated even faster toward Blake Street.

The next ten seconds must have taken forever in Bruce’s mind.  You know, like seeing in slow motion a car accident in which you are involved.  Was he going to bail out and try to soft land into a Halsey street yard?  Could he possibly make the ninety degree turn onto Blake Street at this incredible speed? Would there be a car in that intersection when he got there?   Would some other car or person come out of a side drive or yard before he even got to the bottom?  These and a hundred other thoughts and plans ran through Bruce’s mind as he continued to accelerate with time for his decision running out. 

One plan was to jump off of the bike and run.  You see, Bruce was a track star in high school in fact held the school record for the half mile for a couple of years.  Right, wrong, possible, impossible, smart, not so smart I can’t say.  But, that is the way Bruce chose.  Just before he reached the end of Halsey he leapt from the bicycle and amazingly landed on his feet.  That is where the rocket part of the ride started.  Remember it is just getting dark, he landed on his feet and he had steel taps on his shoes.

We didn’t know if it was a fireworks show or a metal grinder’s convention.  Either way there were two streams of fiery sparks flying from his feet as he skidded down the street.  We did not know it at the time but, we were witness to the first barefoot land skiing event and remember skate boards were not even invented until a decade or more after this event.  Every time one of his feet came off the ground the sparks would stop on that side only to go off like a roman candle when he put the foot back down.  It looked as though Bruce was going to actually pull this show off.  He skidded for more than a hundred feet down Halsey and completely across Blake.  I don’t know if Bruce did not see it in the dark or if he thought he would step over it but there was a curb.  When he reached that curb on the far side of Blake Street  the Bruce Rocket went airborne.  He was going so fast that he completely cleared the sidewalk and a three foot high hedge on the other side of the sidewalk.   There were no more sparks; there was no loud explosion when he hit the ground.  In fact there was no sound at all.  Was Bruce alive? Was he dead?  We all took off in a full run down to the front yard where the Bruce rocket still laid in a motionless heap.   Amazingly he had survived.  The wind was knocked out of him and he had a few scratches and bruises.  I am certain he was so sore the next few days but you can bet Bruce Devoe would NEVER admit that he was sore or that he had done any less than outperform the Hudson boy’s bicycle ride.  Speaking of Bicycles, I have no recollection of where the bike ended up after the ride, or if Jimmy reconnected the brakes or if Jimmy Stamps ever even got it back home.  One thing I am pretty sure of is that the bike or Bruce neither one ever went on another Rocket Ride.

And that's the way I heard it on the mountain,

Tony Peoples

From Suzette Ewell

  MY MOM PASSED SATURDAY. SHE WAS AT PEACE AND ENJOYED THE LAST MONTHS OF HER LIFE. SHE WENT DOWN LAST WEDNESDAY AND WE TOOK HER TO HOSPICE. I DO NOT THINK SHE REALLY KNEW WHAT WAS GOING ON, BUT BY THURSDAY SHE WAS NOT RESPONDING AT ALL AND ON SATURDAY SHE PASSED. IT IS SAD, BUT SHE IS WITH MY JESUS AND MY DADDY AND ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE SHE LOVED THAT HAS PASSED. GOD BLESS YOU ALL.

Sad News on the Mountain



     Sometimes the news heard on the mountain is sad.  Today Peggy Ann Newton James, wife of   George James  left this world and went home to be with Jesus.  She was born  July 5, 1934 and went home today January 8, 2011.  The sadness is for those left behind not her.  We will all miss her and long for her conversation and companionship.  Peggy on the other hand is now present with the Lord without any pain or suffering.  The memories and family she leaves with us will always remind us how wonderful and special her life has been.  Her granddaughter, Stormy, posted this comment on Face book just a few moments after Peggy passed on.  “.. I know my papa was waiting to hold his bride again, now their both healthy walking those streets of gold together.. I love you both and Im just thankful to have known such a stronge marriage in my time and I can't wait to bake cookies and go fishing one day again with both of them..”   What wonderful memories. 

Nigie posted: My precious and sweet mom has passed this afternoon. I am so blessed to of had the greatest parents in the world and I am so happy they are both together again. I am sad for I know I will miss her so much, but I am glad that the good Lord took her home and she did not have to suffer here anymore. I know one day I will see them both again. Thanks for all the prayers and support.

 

What are your memories of Peggy?   

 

So, you want to follow or comment

So, you want to follow or comment.  I don't know much about it myself.  Try clicking on follow or post at the bottom of the Blog you want to comment on.  You should be prompted to open an account.  It seems you have to be registered to play or in this case write.  There are about 6 account providers that the system recognizes, Google, Twitter, Yahoo and some others that are listed.  If you want, there is a place to click and open a Google account.  All you have to do is provide an email adress and make up a password.  Now, I know you needed just one more password in you life.  I have ran out of new ones.  So, I just used one from another account.   Please join in, follow and post often.
Thanks and Good Luck

The Secret of Hot Rolls

I remember as a little boy that Mother made almost all of our bread.  Not only biscuits at breakfast and rolls at supper, but hamburger buns and bread for slicing as well.  I just took it for granted.   In fact, Bruce and I were excited when we went out somewhere and they served factory fresh sliced white bread.  We failed to realize that our family did not have money to spend on bread.  As time went on and things got better we started seeing loaves of Wonder bread show up from the store.  You know the “Wonder bread for those formative years that helps build strong bodies in 12 ways.”  We reminded dad ,”Don’t forget the bread Fred, Don’t forget the Bread!”  It wasn’t until years later I longed for homemade bread of any kind and realized how special it was.  Mother started limiting her bread making to special occasions and hot rolls.  She was working outside the home and just did not have time to spend making bread. 

Her hot rolls are still famous and scrumptious today and people have been trying to figure out why for years.  People copy down her recipe with great care but the rolls are not the same.  I know granddaughters have stood by her side hoping to catch her putting in a secret ingredient that was not in the written recipe.  Still the end result, while very good, did not quite taste the same.  I am certain others have watched those James girls measure, mix, knead and prepare thinking, “this time I have it!” only to be a little let down that when they did it, somehow it just was not like Mom’s   Will the secret of the hot rolls be lost when the James girls are gone?  I think not, read on.  Hold on Cuz!  Because after over fifty years I think I have learned the secret of the hot rolls!  Yipee!   Mother (Hazel) told a story New Year’s Eve that gave it away.  

Most of you know that Grandpa Dewey drove the school bus.  It made sense.  After all a large part of the school population lived right here on the mountain.  Why, the bus was half full when he left the driveway.  In addition to driving for school, he also drove for extracurricular activities like ball games.  So, when there was an away game, he drove team, equipment, spectators, and of course all the James kids to the game.  When the game was over he drove them all back home.  Those  James kids who were the first ones on that bus early this morning… they are now the last ones to come dragging off the bus very late that night.  Mother reminded me that there were no McDonalds on the road and there was not a concession stand at the game.  They were all tired and hungry and would have to get up even more early in the morning to catch up on some chores that had gone undone because of the game.  Mother says one of her best memories is getting off that bus and starting in to the house and smelling hot rolls.  Grandma Velma would stay home and make hot rolls for them to enjoy when they got home.

Grandma did not go to the game.  She stayed home and worked all day to prepare that special treat.  She did not have yeast.  She kept a stone crock in the kitchen with sour dough.  They added stuff to that crock regularly and kept the live sour dough for such special occasions.  They did not have hot rolls on a regular basis.  All the time and work that went in to making hot rolls was reserved for a special treat like her children coming home late, tired and hungry.

Now, I know what the secret ingredient is.  It is a mother’s love.  The love that makes her stay home while everyone else goes to the game.  The love that causes her to get up in the middle of the night two or three times to see if it is time to knead the dough again.  The love that makes her willing to give up any pleasure for even the smallest benefit for her children.  Thank you, Mother.

So, there you have it.  Just keep adding that love in to all that you do.  Your kids may be like me and it takes them fifty years to figure it out, but someday they will discover the secret that makes your hot rolls so special.
And that's the way I heard it on the mountain,
Tony Peoples

Another Quiet New Years Eve

We spent the evening watching TV and sharing stories.  Watched the ball come down in Times Square, listened to Dick Clark wish us all well for 2011, and were in bed by 11:30 CST.  You see there isn’t much  late night fanfare up on the mountain above Jasper, Arkansas.  Not on New year’s eve or most any other night.

As I lay there thinking about my wishes and thoughts for 2011 and beyond, I thought  about the many wishes and plans that had been considered here on previous New Years Eves.  My mother moved into this house about 1933 when she was 12 years old.  Her parents, Dewey and Velma James bought the property and moved an existing house from another location piece by piece.  They lived in the old Gum Springs school house 6-7 months while the small house was disassembled, carried  to the new location and rebuilt where it stands today almost  80 years later.  I remember Grandma saying  they were so poor that if they had lost a board during the move... there would have just been a hole in the house.   The old house has had many renovations and additions since then.  It is probably five times larger than it was in 1933. 

Can you imagine if these walls could talk.  What amazing stories of years gone by they could tell.  The life and times of Dewey and Velma James.  Oh, how the world has changed in these past eighty years.  This  house has gone from no running water or electricity to wireless telephones and satellite transmitted television broadcasts.  The house could tell of the twelve children Dewey and Velma raised and how they went from this mountain to influence the world.   Depression, Wars, births, deaths, good times, bad times, happy and sad times, wouldn’t you like to hear about them all. 

Now, that I consider all the important and valuable New Years plans and wishes that have come to fruition in this little house on the mountain  My wish for 2011 is a  little different.   What I want is for each of us to consider our history.  The things and people that worked together to make you who you are today.  After all it looks like they did a pretty good job with you Cuz.
And that's the way I heard it on the mountain,
Tony Peoples

Heard it on the Mountain Blog

The purpose of this blog is to share the history and memories of the Dewey and Velma James family of Newton County Arkansas.  They gave so much to their family and the community and we want to share and preserve those memories.  If you have a special memory or story please share it.  The story starts with them but it continues now.  So, if you have something to share from recent history, we want it too.

Thanks