My Appalacian Heritage

Did you ever wonder where and who you came from? I Can't be the only one!

I recently started to trace my family roots. I've started on my fathers side, because I had some knowledge of their Tennessee Appalacian Mountain roots.

When I was young, I can remember hearing stories of my grandmother's step-father being gunned down in the streets of Wilder, Tennessee. And, how my great-great-great grandmother was full-blooded Cherokee. Top that off with the fact that my grandmother went to Washington DC, to speak with President Franklin D. Roosevelt, at the age of 13, and now my interest is really peaked.

I want to tell you the story of my grandma, Della Mae Smith (m. Ledbetter). An amazing, warm, loving woman, that even though may not have had the book smarts, she was as smart as they come in her abilities to take care of everyone around her. She was born in October of 1920. Her father wasn't there long after she was born, so she never knew him. My great-grandma, Daisy, later married Barney Graham, and they had 2 children...Barney and Bertha.

Barney worked in the coal mines and times were tough. I mean real tough. Wilder was one of several local coal company towns. The companies provided rental houses, a company store, & doctor for a fee to be deducted from the miners pay. But, the mining conditions were so bad that some were organizing a union, to help them with some of the issues.

On the home front, Daisy took ill with Pellegra, from the poor nourishment, and grandma had to take on more and more responsibilities in the house, and helped to care for young Barney and Bertha. Daisy was in bed alot, from my understanding, and grandma was now taking care of her, too.

The companies were putting so much pressure on the miners affiliated with the union organization, but Barney talked them into holding out and they decided to strike. He became the Union President and led these men into a strike that lasted over a year. During that time the companies were bringing in scabs to replace the miners, and shutting off their electricity, and went so far as to stage some disruptions to make it look as though the striking miners were at fault.

The founder of the Highlander Folk School in Wilder, Miles Horton, recalls the following, in an excerpt from a paper written by Angela Smith entitled: "Myles Horton, Highlander Folk School,
and the Wilder Coal Strike of 1932".

Tension in the hollow continued for several months with an occasional shooting, ambushing, dynamiting, or robbery until the night of April 29, 1933. On that night Barney Graham, Wilder union president, was shot and killed in front of the Wilder store by mine guards Shorty Green and Doc Thompson. Horton had been aware of a plot to kill Barney Graham and remembered:

"We told Barney he was going to get killed. I told him who these people
were and that they were brought in to kill him. He knew they were going
to kill him.

He was that tough kind that wouldn’t quit, you know. So I went to
work to try to get pressure to expose this before it happened, thinking that
might bring enough pressure on the company and on public opinion that
it might save his life. And that’s what I tried – tried everything I could,
put everything in the paper, the names of these guys, their history, said
they were going to kill Barney Graham, and I couldn’t move anybody.

That just killed me. That just killed me. That kind of thing is a
traumatic experience, I tell you. You get involved with death of people,
know it’s going to happen, and you can’t do anything about it. Society’s
so cruel. If I hadn’t already been a radical, that would have made me a
radical right then. Didn’t do anything to make me less radical, I’ll tell you
that. "

There my grandma stood looking out the window of the company store, at the age of 12 watching her beloved father being shot down. This hurt her so badly, and she put it on paper and to music, calling it "The Ballad of Barney Graham." She later sold that song and it was recorded by the famous folk-singer Pete Seeger.

With Barney's death came pretty much the end of the strike. Not long after his death, the companies were back in business and the striking miners began moving out of the area in search of jobs.

In the coming months, Miles Horton accompanied my grandma to Washington D.C., to discuss the labor disputes with President Franklin D. Roosevelt. She recalled playing with his children. A part of the New Deal legislation made it possible for the striking miners to have preferred status on other jobs, i.e., the building of Norris Dam, Cross Creek and the Cumberland Homestead project near Crossville.

In the meantime, my grandma (age 13) met a 26 year old coal miner named Jesse Smith, and in June of 1934 they got a marriage license. Ok, 13 seems a bit young, but, remember she's been taking care of everybody and everything up till now, so, why not....They were hungry, and she needed help. And, I can remember my grandpa as one of the sweetest, warmest, caring men I knew, with the exception to my dad. But, that's where he gets it from. And my dad reminds me in looks of my grandpa, so much.

I lost my grandpa in 1969 and my grandma in 1995, but, their memory lives on in heart, mind, soul and written word.

To read more about the coal mining disputes and the Appalacian people, check out the following:

“A Short History of TVA.”
“Overton County Historical Society.”
“A Labor History Timeline"

**Ansley, Fran, and Brenda Bell. “No Moanin’: Voices of Southern Struggle.” Southern Exposure 1 (Winter 1974): 112-142.
**Elderidge, Robert L., and Mary Elderidge. Bicentennial Echoes of the History of Overton County, Tennessee. Livingston, TN: by the author, 1976.

"Help Wanted? Please, Let Me Help!”

I had a thought this morning while I was looking through the online classifieds.

“I have become a professional jobseeker!”

Wow, you know, it's unbelievable the skills you learn when you're forced to. I say this because I know I can’t be the only one experiencing this struggle on a daily basis. So many ads asking for "Help", and all you want to do is "Help". I know there must be many of you who can relate. Right?? “I can’t be the only one! I just can’t be!”

Let me give you a little background about me, and my search for the perfect “Right job", or should I say the perfect "Right-Now job.”

I used to be considered a part of the Moderate-Middle Class of society, but, in a short time, have fallen to the Upper-Lower Class. I have been out of work since July of 2005; however, this was not by my wishes. Nevertheless, that is a whole other story that I’m still not clear about. Either way, the unemployment office saw it my way after the appeal. Since then, I have completed several event tours with government assistance programs.

This is the story of my ‘Tour ‘de workForce’.

Herein is my account of the charitable journey I am on to keep thriving in time of desperation.

My first event takes me down that path to the state unemployment department, which gave me a good 26-week stint that I like to call, “Run for My Life.”

Now, one thing you have to remember, in my case, is that when you leave a position making 34k+ a year, you may not find a position right away making that same amount of money, especially, if you didn’t have the good fortune to go to college.

NOTE TO HIGH SCHOOLERS: PLEASE GO TO COLLEGE!!! For your own sake, I don’t care if you major in the most off the wall subject you can think of, like Greek mythology or English Lit. It does not have to be relative to the job, just knowing you have that piece of paper, will get you the job over someone like me. On the other hand, even if you don't finish college, just go for a while. Many companies prefer some college over none, even though I have 20 years real world work experience, and 10 of those years in managing staffs of 6 to 45 people. Go Figure! Ok, well, that is my Public Service Announcement for today. Now, I should get on with my story.

During the “Run for My Life” tour, my physical abilities were starting to deteriorate more and more. Hence, I have renamed it “Running Out of Life”, seeing that it has brought me a bit closer to the other side.

My worsening physical abilities have added to the emotional stress of not finding a job since I knew the tour would be ending soon. Left with no medical insurance for doctors or my, much needed, prescriptions, I was forced to go without medication for some months, which is not a good thing. And, please don’t remind me about COBRA. What makes this such a good plan? While I was working, I complained about how I had to pay almost $400 monthly for a family plan through my employer. Now, after they asked me to leave their employment they offer me the ability to continue insurance at a rate of $800+ a month? Does anyone else see something wrong with this picture? This is the true essence of a benefit tour.


“I HAVE NO MONEY! REMEMBER, I DON’T HAVE A JOB ANYMORE!”


Finally, after much debate, my husband and I decided that maybe I should try out for the Triathlon of all events. So I applied for my Social Security Benefits, due to my conditions. I then decided that I would do the “Walk for My Life” tour, even though I have trouble walking. But, I pushed forward. After all, I paid into this fund, and now I’m in need of money and medical assistance. Right? I mean, I have got to the point, that I can hardly walk, my legs and feet swell badly on a daily basis, I’m so depressed at times I don’t want to get out of bed, and I’ve gained more weight, on top of my already overweight stature, since I’ve been sedentary. My Diabetes is so bad that I not only take 19 pills a day, I also take 6 shots of insulin each night. The insulin keeps raising, too, because I can't get the glucose under control. I feel like me brain doesn’t function as well as it once did. And, if it weren’t for Suduko and other games to keep my brain challenged, I wonder where I would be now.

Keep in mind that this process can take about 4 months or longer to get any kind of answer to know if you're qualified. So, I began the grueling task of filling out the application for SSI and SSD. I think it’s safe to say that if someone can get through the mounds of paperwork, one should be able to get a decent office job. It’s incredible what they put you through in order to get your minuscule monthly benefit. But, then you have to meet with them on several occasions and finally, they set up appointments with their doctors to test you. God forbid you are having a halfway decent day! The tests they do, and the questions they ask, don’t always verify the particular conditions you're experiencing.

Nevertheless, 3 ½ months into this, and with unemployment benefits gone 3 months ago, I received the long awaited letter that said I wasn’t qualified. How devastating was that. To appeal, you’re looking at a much longer march down the road.

And, here I am...5 years later, I've been turned down 3 more times, and now I'm getting an attorney. “I can’t be the only one! I just can’t be!”

“REMEMBER, I HAVE NO MONEY!!!”

Now here’s where the other two events in the Triathlon come in. While engaging in the long march for SSD benefits, I filed papers with the county to get Medicaid and Food Stamps. Low and behold, you can’t get Medicaid without first qualifying for SSD. Wonderful!

Food Stamps are another dehumanizing endeavor where you need to read the fine print. We were able to get 2 months of food stamps, that’s all. Because my husbands’ income went from $8.50 to $9 an hour, we were now, Not Qualified. That extra $20 a week meant we would still be hungry. I don’t get it!!! “I can’t be the only one! I just can’t be!”

I wish someone would explain to me the reason why government agencies go by your gross income, instead of your bring-home pay when deciding if you make too much money to qualify for benefits. They forget that they get to skim the bucket first, and what’s left are the dregs that you actually try to live on. This is the real money that we use to pay rent and electric, and buy food with, if we’re that fortunate to have anything left over. “We’re Hungry!”

“I can’t be the only one! I just just can’t be!”

What do we have to do, ask the boss to keep that extra $.50 cents on the hour, so we stand a chance to buy food with our food stamps next month? Oh My Goodness, don't let him get the opportunity to get a little overtime. That would cancel our food stamps for the next month!

So, here we are almost homeless, almost without utilities, no food and no money. We’re robbing Peter to pay Paul. We owe everyones brothers mother, and then some.

I know I sound angry. I don’t want to be, and I try to make light of some of it, because there are life’s lessons to learn and once you lose your sense of humor, you’ve lost the whole race. However, it is true, I am angry. I don’t want to be on the circuit anymore. I’m angry because I used to feel proud and that I was worth something. But, over the last few years my pride has been reduced.

I do have some hurdles in my way. My health has really deteriated in the past 5 years, and I could only do some kind of work from my home, now. But, how do you find that?

Well, the race is in the backstretch...I haven't given up, yet.....But, Come on!....with so many Help Wanted ads, I wish someone could “PLEASE, JUST LET ME HELP!”

“I can’t be the only one! I just can’t be!”