Carolina Coal Demon

 Death in the Dark 

The Story of the Deep River Coal Demon

Deep under the North Carolina ground is a black vein of dirty decay. The Deep River coal field is an area of Triassic rocks stretching 36 miles along the river in Chatham, Lee, and Moore Counties. In the age of dinosaurs there was a vast swamp along an ancient river. As swamps tend to do, decaying plant matter formed layers of peat in the humid dense environment. Over huge amounts of time shifts in plates and other events changed the landscape and large amounts of sediment flowed down and gathered in the area. The pressure of the massive layers of sediment created the perfect situation to turn the peat into coal. For 200 years people have attempted to dig this coal out of the ground. Deep River is NC’s only commercial coal bed. 

The coal industry has always been extremely dangerous and historically, many tragedies have been associated with mines. Over time, the abundance of illness, death, and mishap creates a need for explanation in the human mind. As we often do, people created legends to place blame somewhere that would give them the opportunity to feel like they could continue working by creating superstitious ways to protect themselves. It was a way to rationalize a terrible industrial human rights travesty without placing blame on the industrialists.

 In NC's coal mines, the scapegoat came in the form of a demon. The Deep River coal field is cursed by this disturbed demon, and many have lost their lives in his clutches. 

The demon has guarded his coal through each attempt to plunder it. No one has been profitable off of the mine due to the disastrous explosions, cave ins, and flood outs. The Old Egypt mine and the Carolina mine should have been successful, they supplied coal to the railroad and the Confederate Army during the Civil War. But unfortunately the complex geology of the region made mining difficult. There was ground water and there were intrusions and veins of softer minerals that caused unexpected weakness in the tunnels. The coal itself seemed to be cursed and stories came back from the battlefields of the dreaded Deep River coal that burned yellow giving away their location to the Union soldiers. Sales to the military stopped and money owed was not paid due to the loss of life. The mines closed for almost two decades. 

A company with a new plan opened the mine to great success. The mine employed upwards of 80 miners who earned what was considered a good wage, drawing miners from the north.  A few specialized men worked as blasters, places and igniting the TNT to break loose the coal. Most of the men worked as loaders. They shoveled the freed coal into carts, which were then carried away by mule.

The first disaster struck on a winter morning. At 8:30 a.m. on  December 19, 1895 an explosion ripped through the Egypt Mine. Forty-six of the sixty-seven men in the mine at the time perished.  The cause was believed to be natural gas ignited by a flame in a miners helmet.  

The company struggled to keep going but in May of 1900 another gas explosion killed twenty-two miners. It really was too much for the already limping company.  In two years, the Egypt coal mine was closed again.

The Carolina Coal Company was formed in 1921 with the intention of developing a mine across the river from the Egypt Mine. In its first year of full-scale operation it more than doubled the best of the Old Egypt Mine's output. Again things were looking up for the Deep River Coal Bed.  But once again the profits failed to materialize.  

In the spring of 1925 at seven in the morning seventy-four miners went down into the dark of the Carolina Mine.  Fifty-three of those men did not leave the mine alive.

   

The Carolina Mine closed a few years later when the mine began to flood through an air shaft.  The water was pumped, but they made no precautions against future flooding.  So it happened again and after the mine flooded again in 1930 it was closed.

During the post WWII boom era the mines were reopened as tourist attractions but the stories of tragedy attracted night time trespassers and the mines went into disrepair with miss use and were later closed completely. The coal still sits under the earth. Tempting modern fortune seekers to risk it all and tempt their fate with the Carolina coal demon.

A Personal Post About Having A Baby During Quarantine

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities   

My baby turns six months old today. He is a big healthy happy boy. Today at our pediatrician visit we saw some good friends. The girl I have babysat for almost ten years, lets call her Ray and her mom, we'll call her Bee. It was the first time we'd seen each other since before the quarantine, since before the baby was born. It was wonderful! They got to hold the baby and we all hugged and smiled so hard our faces hurt, under our masks.

I got home and put baby boy down for a nap and I realized I was still smiling. But then I started to cry. I thought about everything that has changed in the last six months. At the end of February I had my baby shower. My C-section was already scheduled. My twin sister and Bee hosted the shower at the local country club. My big sister came up from the beach, cousins were there, moms, aunts, all sorts of people came together to celebrate the coming of our little boy. 

Two weeks later the government shut down the schools and most businesses. I was 9 months pregnant and suddenly my doctors office was limiting access to patients only. My mother in law would drive me to my appointments and wait outside in her car. They told me there was a chance I'd be in the delivery room alone. I was terrified. 

When that Monday arrived I was allowed my partner and no one else. I was grateful that he was in the room during the surgery, holding my hand, in gloves and full protective gear. I told him not to look. I saw his eyes get big and his face turn white and I knew he was looking. I heard all the nurses say awwww, before i saw him. Then they handed him to his daddy. He was perfect. Then I started seeing stars. Baby and daddy were rushed out of the room and my doctors were still behind the curtain putting me back together and I could here one yelling at a nurse. They put something in my IV. It was something to help stop the bleeding, I found out later. I'd lost a lot of blood. They worked to sew me up inside and out and then wheeled me into a room where baby and daddy were waiting.

No visitors were allowed in the hospital after the baby was born. Grandmothers and Aunts saw him via FaceTime. They were limiting hospital stay times to conserve PPE so I was sent home on Wednesday morning. It was a few weeks in to quarantine and everyone was panicking. So, that meant no visitors. It also meant shortages on things a new mom needs, diapers, formula, wipes, toilet paper and cleaning products. We found what we needed, but it was never easy. I won't forget the feelings, the scarcity and having to go hunting around multiple stores, while healing from having my gut sliced open and an eight pound baby pulled out of it, the weather warming up, and I'm wearing an N-95 mask. Venturing out only to look for vital supplies, hoping I'm not bringing home germs to the new baby. We had a scare. Allergy season. We knew we had allergies, but the cough came and we we worried. Out of precaution the baby went to his grandparents while we waited to get tested. And waited some more for results. The negative results went on the fridge like a good test grade. The days without the baby were so hard for me. I cried so much. 

After the baby was born my partner started Covid unemployment and I went and got WIC. We've been on a tight budget. But it was a blessing to have him home, just the three of us bonding. At the same time it has been lonely. We have had FaceTime visits and texted loads of pictures and videos but for the most part our bubble is limited to the grandparents who live down the street, and our friend who runs the pizza place around the corner. 

My Dr. appointments were virtual. My incision check consisted of a phone call and a series of questions. My lactation consultations were all over the phone. Baby was having trouble latching. It was difficult for me emotionally not to be able to breast feed him. One day we were having cuddle play time and I was trying to get the baby to stick out his tongue. We were watching PBS on YouTube. I think I said out loud, "why can't you stick out your tongue." A few minutes later YouTube recommended a video about a newborn baby who was tongue tied. I had never heard of it. I stuck my fingers in my baby's mouth and looked under his tongue, or at least I tried to, his tongue was totally tethered to the bottom of his mouth. I spent the next hour researching and freaking out. But the more I read the more i felt ok. It was a simple fix. We had a pediatrician appointment that week, it was the first where we checked in over the phone from outside, and everyone but baby wore masks. We were referred to a wonderful pediatric dentist, where we checked in from the parking lot by text. A nurse in full PPE greeted us at the truck and took our temperatures before escorting us inside, opening each door for us.  The dentist's first question was about my lactation consultant. Why didn't she catch it earlier? I told her that she didn't catch it, YouTube did. And why didn't she see the baby's stuck tongue? Covid. Telemedicine. It isn't right for everything. The surgery went totally great and baby can now stick out his tongue and make smiling silly faces while he does it. I'm glad we figured out why he couldn't latch but it was too late. I missed out on being able to breast feed my baby boy.

In August my big strong partner went in for total knee replacement. He was tested for Covid twice leading up to the surgery. I was allowed to wait in a waiting area alone, masked during his four hour surgery. He had 20 years of bone growth around an old injury. The Dr. said it was one of the worst knees he had ever seen. He had to wear a mask after he came out of the OR. He also had to stay in the hospital overnight alone. The recovery was painful. Ice all the time, thankful for the trash bags of ice from the pizza place! The baby had to stay at his grandparents at first. We saw him everyday but I was full time caring for a man who couldn't move. It was a stressful time. After a week the baby was home and I was taking care of two babies. Very busy mom. After they were both asleep at night, I'd sit down to relax and write my blog. It has been my stress relief. A mini vacation every night. I've been writing for almost two months. My blog has been viewed more than a thousand times. 

I've written a couple of introductory blogs explaining my intent. Let's Take a Virtual Vacation Together! and Join my Journey  I started this blog because as a new mom during the covid quarantine, I wasn't leaving the house. I desperately missed traveling and the outdoors. My first few blog posts were looooong. I wrote my first post inspired by a trip to Huntington Beach State Park, it truly was a journey down the rabbit hole of South Carolina History. I even got into the rise and fall of rice plantations. Then, I reminisced about camping as a child in Cherokee, North Carolina at the KOA Campground. I went on and on about the history of appeasement and assimilation and the kitschy Disneyfication of a culture. I wrote about a swamp beast, a breakdown, some 'Indians', pirates, & paradise in my very detailed blog about Cape Fear and the Green Swamp. I've written long posts about New Year's Eve camping on the beach and the surprising history of Freeman Park Carolina Beach. I told y'all all about how groundwater flows through NC, with extensive explanation of the Cape Fear River tributaries and the History of High Point, North Carolina. I took readers on a long journey through The Dow Road Woods and the super interesting chemical plant ruins. I examined the origins of the Carolina Bay's and researched camping at Lake Waccamaw, NC . I traveled to Little River, South Carolina and went night kayaking. And in Fort Payne, Alabama I visited a church where they took up snakes. 

I realized people want content that is easier to digest, so I started creating shorter posts, like the one about the trip with my mom Cold Weather Car Camping. I invited my readers to Go Inside a Coastal Carolina Castle and explore Bombed Out Chemical Weapons Plant Ruins. I shared The Truth about the Carolina Shag and its roots in segregated dance clubs. I introduced y'all to The Fort Fisher Hermit. And told the spooky story of The Beast of Bladenboro. 

I plan to continue creating content that explores natural places throughout the southeastern United States, uncovering hidden histories and examining local mysteries.

Thank you for going on this journey with me. It has truly been my personal cure for Covid blues. I hope it has been entertaining and informative for y'all. Please leave me some comments, let me know what your favorite post is. Tell me what else you think I should write about, and share my links! 

Stay healthy and safe!

All the love, Kimsey

Dreaming of going camping again!

Who wants to go Cold Weather Camping?

 

Updated:

It was a nice idea, but Corona quarantine and unemployment will be preventing any 2020 camping.

Maybe, I can go camping in the first few months of 2021... Stay Tuned...

 

    I'd like to reserve a site at my favorite campground, Huntington Beach State Park. I have gone in November, the first week of December, and in March. The March trip with my mom was the coldest. But we had a great time. 

    The weather for the last week of December in Murrells Inlet is cloudy about half the time, but only about 25% precipitation. The average low is around 42, and the high is around 59 degrees Fahrenheit. The sun that week will be rising around 7:15 am and setting just after five in the evening.

    The park is usually very full of RVers during the winter, however it doesn't feel crowded, the beaches are usually empty, the castle feels like you have it to yourself, and Brookgreen Gardens seems deserted. (Yes, I said castle. If you haven't been reading my blogs, you might not know, there is a castle in South Carolina, you can click HERE to check out the inside of the castle! Click HERE for the history.) The RVers are mostly baby boomers who stay in their warm cozy RVs, or go shopping, and go out for supper to enjoy nearby seafood restaurants. 

    I have enjoyed my other trips to HBSP during winter. Currently all of the primitive sites are available during the time I'd like to go and only one RV site. That means I need to plan a hike in, no electricity, cold weather camping trip. (Baby will need to stay with Grandparents for this trip, too much exposure to elements for an infant.)

Primitive Hike In Tent Camping

  

 I have stayed in one of the primitive sites before. Last November with my twin sister. I was several months pregnant. We had a fantastic time and really enjoyed it! Hopefully, for this trip I can convince some friends to join the fun. I have camped for New Years Eve several times before, including on the beach in very cold temperatures. I am confident that if I plan ahead and prepare, we will have fun no matter the weather. 

The primitive sites are listed on the map as T-1 through T-6. Each site can have six people with two vehicles in the parking area. They have large tent pads with a fire ring and a picnic table. They also have a food safety lock box so you can keep critters out of your food and trash. They are technically 'hike-in' sites, but it is just a short walk down a sandy path through the trees. The primitive sites are not far from a beach access and a bathroom. The bathrooms are heated and have showers. They are usually kept very clean. For the four nights and five days at the end of 2020, each primitive site is only $100. That doesn't include taxes or and supplies. They ask that you not bring fire wood from else where because of invasive bugs. So budget for several bundles of fire wood which locally range from $4 to $7. Also, at the primitive sites, you're in the woods, there is some amount of small branches and twigs you can use. (Only, use dead dried out wood.)

Strategies For Staying Warm in Winter Weather

     I have several strategies for beating the winter weather. Dress for success. That means layers. I usually wear leggings under my jeans, and a tee shirt and hoodie under my leather jacket. Always warm socks and boots or non slip shoes. Layers also are my strategy for prepping a site for winter camping. I like to create a large outer tent using popups and tarps. I set up the kitchen area and a bedroom tent inside the large space. When it is really cold I use fabric to line the inside. I set up my tents facing the fire and the woods. With the tarps I can create a pretty weather resistant wall towards the trail. You can never have too many tarps. 

    

With the tent structure facing the fire, private, and protected from wind I can concentrate on extra things to create a warm cozy camping trip. I like to bring lots of tapestries and extra fabric to make sure I am extra weather proof. I usually try to get the picnic table in the tented space, I have a table cloth and pieces of leather I put on the benches. I have small rugs and a canvas drop cloth that I use on the ground inside the tented area. Always take camp chairs, with a cozy throw for each chair. 

    When I winter camp with electricity I bring all sorts of things, like a coffee maker and a space heater, but with no electricity I'll be concentrating on things that generate warmth with out electricity. Open flame generates heat no matter how small, you'd be surprised how much warmth can be generated by simple candles. Never leave them unattended or put them close to any fabric. I usually have some citronella candles for the picnic table. I also bring incense and sage to burn to keep away bugs, (and evil spirits). I like to bring tiki torches for the area outside of the tent, they provide light, heat, and keep away critters. Propane heaters are a good way to heat up a large camp spot.  I suggest they are kept well ventilated and away from anything flammable. 

Glamping   

 Sleeping accommodations are where I tend to go from camping to glamping. Air mattress with a cordless pump. Mattress pad cause the plastic air mattress can get cold. Sheets, blankets, comforters, and extra pillows. I like to give the tent an extra layer of fabric for insulation, though I place the tent inside a popup with tarp walls that are already lined with fabric, there is usually a side open facing the fire and that extra layer helps late at night when its coldest and the fire has gone out. 

   

Food 

 When I camp I usually take lots of snacks that don't require cooking, however when cold weather camping I like to bring things that are sure to warm me up. Sweet potatoes are amazing baked over a fire. Bring a camp pot and any soups or noodles can warm you up. I like to make mac and cheese with tuna and sweet peas. Instant coffee and tea are also great. It is easy to leave the park and go into town for groceries, so a steak dinner is not out of the question either. 

    

Light

   

Light sources other than tiki torches and candles: Battery operated LED lanterns are fantastic. I also love to bring a few strands of 'fairy lights' to make things extra magical. Since this trip is a special occasion, my 40th and New Years, I'll probably bring extra things to decorate with! A wagon is always helpful to carry all your stuff to the site, or to the beach.

   Click HERE for a LIST of everything I'm taking. 

Adventures in Alabama

The Parable of The Pentecostal Tourist

Fort Payne, Alabama

Click HERE for Alabama fried pork chops recipe. 

 

Disclaimer: Some details, like names or exact locations, have been changed. 

"For whatever is hidden is meant to be disclosed and whatever is concealed is meant to be brought out into the open."

     The quote is from the New International Version of the Bible. In the New Testament, book of Mark chapter 4, verse 22, Jesus is explaining why he often speaks in parables. Parables are stories that illustrate a lesson, they shed light on a moral truth.

Wet and Wild College Kids

     

     It feels like a million years ago. My first semester of college in Wilmington, North Carolina, we had a terrible hurricane. I will never forget move in week it was raining from a tropical storm. Then a few weeks later another storm. Campus had areas that were lakes where lawns had been. Students were floating on rafts. They put laundry detergent in the flooded fountain and bubbles floated all over campus. There wasn't even time to dry out before the massive hurricane came. Things had been flooded around town before Floyd. It rained buckets for a week, everything from the coast to the piedmont was flooded. Some colleges lost the whole semester. We went back and sloshed around a waterlogged campus and town full of road closures.

FEMA Money         

      

By the spring semester, things had dried out but the mess was still everywhere. Through a roommate I met some kids my age that came to the area working for their parents’ disaster response company. They had been working disasters since they were young. They were still teenagers, but they were making six figure salaries leading teams to clean up storm damage. 'FEMA money.' They were young and fun loving and had cash to blow. There was always a whirlwind of excitement around them with juicy relationship drama and new people entering their traveling family at every new disaster location. They all had fast cars, big trucks, motorcycles, and houses in a gated neighborhood on the Intercoastal Waterway. Their lifestyle was sometimes shocking to the small southern towns where they cleaned up storm damage. Busty blonde women running heavy equipment and driving around on motorcycles raised eyebrows, but what really caused a scandal was my friend's mom and dad's swinging open marriage. They were well liked at the local strip clubs for spreading around that FEMA money. They weren’t from the NC coast though. They came up in the late 1990's following a series of storms. They were from northeastern Alabama.

        When there were no major disasters to work, they concentrated their energies back home on the family compound. They owned some acreage in Rainsville, outside of Fort Payne. There was a beautiful brick colonial with a pond and horse pasture out front. They constructed an addition on the right side of the house to hold the offices and a ten car garage, and they were working on an addition to the left side which was an exercise area and an indoor pool.

Kimsey's in Alabama

        I mentioned their hometown to my grandfather and he immediately began telling a story about a trip he took as a very young boy when the Kimsey family still lived in Georgia. He said he went to Fort Payne and stayed on Sand Mountain with cousins for a week one summer. He recalled with fondness his cousins’ home. He said they were poor but he had the best time because it was very hot and humid that summer and their place was stuck on the side of the mountain so the temperature was cooler. He said he remembered playing in the sand in their yard, which was a mountain of sand, like a dune at the beach. (The family had dug out their part of the mountain to have a flat spot for the home, a small garden, and a few animals. Their excavation revealed and broke down the sandstone that makes up the mountain, creating what definitely could have seemed like a great deal of sand for a mountain home.) He told me about his siblings and cousins piling into a mule driven wagon with a packed lunch to go to a nearby waterfall to spend a day splashing. (Turns out the Fort Payne phone book has a whole list of Kimsey's.)

A Mountain of Sand

    

    Sand Mountain is the southern tip of the Cumberland Plateau, which is the southern part of the Appalachian Plateau, to the east of the Tennessee River Valley. The Cumberland Plateau is a plateau that has sharp topographic relief, mountain ridges from tectonic folding that occurred during a time of plate movement, as well as newer valleys from the plateau being worn down over time by rivers. There are also frequent sandstone outcroppings and bluffs with sedimentary rocks made of sediments from prehistoric sea waters. Sand Mountain has two to four feet of soil generally composed of silt and sand, and then solid sandstone bedrock. The porous nature of sandstone means water can easily create valleys, waterfalls, and even caves over time. Northeastern Alabama has all of that.

Salvation on Sand Mountain

        I recognized the name that my granddad mentioned, Sand Mountain, from something I had read a few years prior. I love good nonfiction and especially southern nonfiction, and I knew I’d read a story or something, but I couldn't place it till I looked at my books. Salvation on Sand Mountain was written in the 1990s and it chronicles the trial of a pastor accused of murder. Not just any pastor though, this pastor led a congregation that ‘took up snakes’ and his wife was dead in the snake enclosure. 

        If you don't know, 'taking up snakes' is a reference to a verse at the end of the book of Mark. Jesus has come to his disciples after resurrection. He had just scolded them for not believing that he had been resurrected. Then he tells them to go out and spread the good news and those who believe will be saved. In Mark's version Jesus goes on to elaborate about the saved.

    "And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues, they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well."

        If you knew me in my youth you might know that I have always been a big fan of the gospels. That year I had just finished a semester studying the New Testament in a religion class. I've always enjoyed observing or participating in different types of religious ceremonies or services when I travel. So with my granddad's story of a sandy mountain and memories of the church I'd read about, I decided I should take a trip to see the area for myself, and to see my friends, of course.

Really 20 years ago?!

        It was November, of 2000. I remember specifically because I listened to NPR everyday to get updates on the election fiasco. We had voted but had no idea yet who’d be declared the winner. I’d moved into my first apartment with no roommates. I had a TV that sat on the floor, with a VCR, and no cable. I had like three movies; Up in Smoke, Half-baked, and Pulp Fiction. (hahaha) I had dial up internet. Back then it was all about AOL Instant Messenger, it was kind of like the first social network. That’s how I met my friends from Alabama, they were looking for people their age in the area to hang out with. My former roommate had answered a random IM and we all ended up meeting at the Monkey Junction Waffle House. Fast forward a year and I was planning on driving to Alabama by myself.

      

 I remember printing out directions from MapQuest as I packed. I left in the late afternoon and arrived around 11 in the evening. I was warmly welcomed and shown to a bedroom. My friends showed me around the next day, like a tourist; a monument to the sock industry, which had once brought international commerce to the town, the Alabama Museum, (the country music band not the state), an old cemetery on a hill, and some four wheeling in the sand above the cemetery.

        

It wasn’t exactly the sand dune granddad remembered from his childhood, most of the mountainside in the area appeared to be wooded, but where small partials had been dug out it was clearly a light colored sand, almost like the beach. After some adventurous four wheel driving we parked and looked out over the sand, and the cemetery, and the town in the valley below us. I asked about the sand. Apparently the people of the area are proud of their ground.

“It ain’t sand, and it ain’t dirt. It’s chert.”

        Chert is a hard, sedimentary rock composed of microcrystalline crystals of quartz. It is usually made up of the petrified remains of siliceous ooze. Siliceous ooze is the silica from skeletons of microscopic sea creatures. The Fort Payne Formation, or Fort Payne Chert, is a geologic formation of cherty limestone, that overlies the Chattanooga Shale Formation. It formed during the Mississippian geological era, 358.9 to 323.2 million years ago, when much of the eastern United states was ocean. It was a time of ‘marine transgression’; oceans, swamps, and deltas covered most of earth’s surface. 

       My friends told me that there were caves and waterfalls nearby also, so of course the next day I had to go exploring. I was not disappointed. The natural beauty of the area was actually much more than I expected. 

Natural Beauty

        

They took me to the nearby Little River Canyon National Preserve. The Little River Falls is the beginning of the Canyon which contains several beautiful waterfalls. These falls are right off the road and pretty easy to access. Even in the winter it is a verdant place. Moss covered rocks, ferns, and rhododendron thrive in the humidity produced by the falls. I am sure it is busier in warm months but the week before Thanksgiving in 2000 we were the only people in the park. We climbed up to the top of the rocks beside the falls and took pictures. I asked if there were other parks. Just to the north of Fort Payne on Lookout Mountain is a much larger park, the DeSoto State Park covering 3,502 acres of mountain forest, rivers, and waterfalls. The park borders the Little River. DeSoto Falls, the state's highest waterfall, is 6 miles north of the main park.

   The park gets its name from 16th-century explorer Hernando de Soto, the first European to come to the area. The valley where Fort Payne is located was home to an important Cherokee village. The village was eventually named Willstown after a mixed-race elder who became the headman. He was Cherokee but must of also been Scottish or Irish because he had red hair. The large village was home to the famous native, Sequoyah, a silversmith, who invented the Cherokee language. Tragically in the 1800's the US Army built a fort in the valley to hold captured native people until their 'relocation' to Oklahoma. The man in charge was named Major John Payne. Payne's Fort in Will's Valley saw very little action during the Civil War, as there still weren't established settlements of white people in the area. By the end of the 1800's the railroad came through and the town of Fort Payne began to grow. Northern industrialists moved in to mine the area for any mineral resources they could exploit. Coal and iron deposits were mined leading to a period of growth, making the town a temporary boom town, as they were called. Many of the historic buildings that still exist downtown are from this time. During the Great Depression the nation took stock in its natural resources and made moves to protect them. As part of Roosevelt's New Deal plan the Civilian Conservation Corps, (CCC) was created. The New Deal provided jobs for those in need of work. The jobs the CCC provided were related to the conservation and development of natural resources. DeSoto State Park was one of the many parks developed in the 1930's by the CCC.

Touchy Subjects

   I enjoyed the parks by myself the next day. I sat for long periods of time taking in the views. Communing with nature. Exploring in the crisp November air. However, I had other things on my mind, something else I wanted to see in the area. My friends joked about their life being an episode of the Jerry Springer show everyday, but they were still sensitive about the reputation people of the region have for being slightly backwards looking. They considered themselves forward thinking people. They embraced people from all races, people from the LGBTQ community, they were involved in environmental issues because of their business, they valued their reputation as arms open type of people. They did come from a southern Christian background, but I had never noticed any of them going to church or praying at meals or anything like that. We all knew not to talk about anything controversial or political as the family was the type that wanted to remain positive and focused on whatever their current mission was. So, I wasn’t sure I could just come right out and ask them about what I was looking for. As I drove around and 'touristed' during the week I casually questioned people in gas stations, and at the grocery. I slipped in to my very strongest southern Appalachian accent and I said, “Ya, know, I ain’t from round here, I'm from up North Carolina way, and I’ll be here a month of Sundays, an I shore would just hate to miss that many services, y’all know a good old fashioned Pentecostal church round here?” Either they recommended the big church on main street or they shook their heads and pretended not to know what I was asking. After a lot of asking, I had no luck.

Beer Run

    

That Friday evening I was asked to go with a couple of the guys on the crew, let’s call them Bill and Ted. We were going for a beer run, and they needed my truck. This was a hell of a beer run, we took my F150 and an SUV  and drove to the nearest county that was not dry. As Bill navigated from the passenger seat I remember going over a big bridge across the Tennessee River. Both of them went into every convenience store we came to and bought as many cases of beer as they’d allow. Once the vehicles were full we drove back like we were driving miss Daisy or perhaps like parents bringing their newborn home from the hospital.

        Bill cleared his throat and said, “I heard ya askin’ ‘bout the Pentecostals… You lookin’ to find a snake church ain’t ya?” I was surprised and nervous, but I answered honestly with a meek nod.

         “I’ll take ya on Sunday, but we gotta go by Walmart and get you something to wear. They don’t like y’all to wear pants. And yore combat boots ain’t gonna cut it either.”

        I was so excited I would have worn a habit, or a hijab, or a g-string. I was going to see people actually taking up snakes at church! I was right about the sensitivities of my friends, I was warned not to talk about the Pentecostals or any religion or politics around the family, so I kept my excitement to myself.

         I got my appropriate attire, a floor length moo moo of a denim dress, a white turtleneck, and a navy blue cardigan. I got non-slip black tennis shoes and white tube socks. I also should not wear makeup or flashy jewelry. I planned on not speaking and just following him around with my head down. Truthfully, I was nervous. What if somehow they could tell I was some kind of queer heathen dirt worshiping witch? What if they tried to hand me a snake? My new friend reassured me none of that would happen. 

Thanksgiving Service and Singin'

       (Pictures of the church are from a public Facebook page.)

 Sunday morning I was up early, dressed in my ‘church clothes’. Bill was already up and had made coffee. I got a cup and quietly slipped out through the back of the house to warm up the truck. I had told my friends I was going to church with Bill, but not what kind of church. I didn’t want them to question the sudden change in my fashion sense. I don’t do mornings, and didn’t know where we were going so Bill drove my truck. I remember after a few turns the road seemed like someone's driveway. It was an old county road. The sun was coming up and there was a cold mist over the pastures. Everything was sparkling. I remember we went somewhere between Section and Sylvania. The ‘church’ looked to me like an old house with a gravel lot in front and a field out back. There was a lot more cars than I expected. Bill explained that this was a special Thanksgiving Service.

         “They don’t always do things like takin up snakes, but fer holidays and special occasions. Today’s a special holiday occasion, there’s gonna be a singin’ and prolly some people speakin’ in tongues when the spirit moves em. And o’ course the stuff from the book of Mark that e’rybody carries on about.”

        He meant the snakes.

        In certain areas Pentecostals take the gospel of Mark as literal, believing in exorcisms, speaking in tongues, and laying hands on the sick; and some, mostly in the southern Appalachian mountains, take up snakes. In the 1990's a series of events exposed the rural churches to national media. Some people felt that the books and tv shows were exploitative. Making a profit off of exotification of a culture that was slightly different from the mainstream. People thought no one should be making money telling a story about these poor people and the tragedies in their lives. By the 2000's the internet was further spreading the culture of taking up snakes and the churches were beginning to embrace the new people being brought into the flock.

        

From a selfish place as well as an honest one I was excited about seeing the taking up of snakes. As a former choir girl I was also excited about hearing some hymns. I was about to find out that a singin’ was not the traditional hymns I’d learned in Methodist choir. Soon after we had found our seats somewhere in the middle of a large wood paneled room with a podium at the front and several rows of pews then rows of folding chairs, I heard people beginning to sing. Only I couldn’t understand the words. It was like the Sound of Music, 'doe ray me' type notes. Then slowly they began to get louder as more of the congregation joined in. Eventually the notes turned into words and they were belting out a song I’d never heard about revelations and the gates of heaven. The voices of the men were especially strong, like they were competing to see who could be deepest and loudest, the paneling seemed to vibrate. When they were finished with a few songs in this style, I turned to Bill wide eyed.

    “It’s called a singin’ cause they’re singin’ the Hymns of the Sacred Harp, not a choir performin’ stuffy operatic crap, ya see?” I heard. It sounded awesome.

    

What I saw you could say was less than awesome. Bill was right, my outfit was dead on, three other women had exactly the same thing on, they smiled at me. Only one of them had what appeared to be a full set of teeth. Poverty was obvious, down to the smell. While other churches I’d been to smelled like freshly scrubbed and perfumed people crammed together and maybe slightly sweaty by noon, this church did not smell like soap and au de toilet, it smelled musty. Mildew. And some of the people had stains on their clothes, obvious untreated ailments, and no real concern for personal appearance. Part of that could have been the ultra conservative nature of their religious views, but mostly it was poverty. Walmart was the only place around to buy clothes and that was cheap crap from Asia that wore out even faster when washed by hand and hung out to dry. The older ladies looked like they had made their dresses and took more pride in their appearance. Several men wore overalls.

        I listened to a sermon about being thankful for forgiveness because of the strength of temptation and the power of sin my human self would never be able to resist.

         “God has the awesome ability to forgive and protect us.” Ahh, here it comes… “In the gospel of Mark we are told of all the ways God is miraculous through us, simple humans, but special because we are his children.”

        With that he nodded to a lady off to the side at a table. She slowly opened a wooden box. The people were hushed, and at the edge of their seats. The man raised his arms and bowed his head and began to pray.

         “Oh father, protect me as your promise, thine will be my way, as I take up the serpent thy protect me, as you have and I know you will. Amen.”

        And the congregation said amen.

      

 He sat down his bible. Then he carefully reached into the box, quietly talking under his breath, soothing, as one would talk to a pet or baby. He was talking to a rather large snake. He held it up and walked up and down the aisle, showing the snake to his flock.  I don’t know enough about snakes to tell you what kind it was and I honestly think the whole thing had me a little in shock because I don’t remember details about what happened next.

         I remember after the snake went back in the box there was more singin’ and lots of hands in the air as different church members testified to the miracles they were thankful for. They asked for prayer requests and several sick or injured people came to the aisle where a group of older women circled around them and put their hands on their heads and shoulders, praying loudly, not an organized or in unison prayer, but each lady at her own pace and volume praying in her own words to alleviate the infliction of the person they were touching.

        Several ladies spoke in tongues, one interrupting a prayer for peace during the country's political turbulence which they believed was a sign of the coming times. She wailed incoherently with her head arched back and her hands above her. The people said ‘amen’ and ‘praise the lord’ and ‘let the spirit speak’ until she was done, and then they all said ‘amen’ in unison. That was the end of the service.

        Everyone exited into the parking lot where they broke off into groups to talk about what a week they’d had, who’d got married, or died, or moved away. Even if they knew already they still talked about it cause they didn’t seem to have much else to talk about. There was food getting set up out back, but we weren’t staying.

        I think I was silent the whole way to the big house. I was thinking about all the songs and the snakes when I got out of the truck and went inside. I didn’t even think about my outfit till I heard Mama Bear in the kitchen hollering at Bill.

     “You took her to that snake church?! Damn it Bill, she won’t never wanna come back down here, thinkin’ we’re a bunch of snake handlin’ hillbillies, oh lord!”

    I looked down at my outfit, blushed, and went upstairs to change into my tee shirt, jeans, and combat boots. I felt some sort of combination of empathy for the people of the church and shame for having gone there for the entertainment of my own curiosity, for being a cultural voyeur. Somehow I was reminded of the odd mix of feelings I had as a child in Cherokee seeing the animal acts and the street corner chiefs. The twinge of guilt churning in my belly was settled by the homemade fried pork chops, beans, and greens my friends served up for lunch.