the 'Ol Biddy
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Crossing over the river at the low water bridge, into Alleghany Co., was Sidney Stirgell's farm. He & his family had lived on or near the river for as long as he knew - back to land grants from the king I expect. |
Original Stirgell homeplace - South Fork, New River - Alleghany Co., NC
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In the late summer Sidney would let me use one of his trucks to bring coal over from West Jefferson. I'd cut firewood on his land, use his tractor to get it all to my house & he'd haul me out of the mud in the spring & fall of the year. In exchange, I showed up to help put up hay & hang tobacco. And, I would often stop by at milkin' time to lend a hand & visit. - farming, politics & Revelations - We got along well enough for a city boy & a country mouse. |
Mangum farmhouse - Jan. 1978
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Sidney's Diary - Dec. 1978
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Sidney'd be milkin' & I'd pop my head through the parlor door. He would
look up from around one of the cows in a row, his small billed milkin' cap pulled tightly atop his broad forehead, "John, John the River John. Come on in & show this girl the door!" I can still smell that heavy sweet mixture of milk, hay, warm water & manure that met me at the door. |
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It was December & Sidney mentioned a big storm was to come through over the weekend.
I had better get that trailer load of wood out of his back hollow, or it may well sit there 'til spring. Earlier in the fall, the starter had quit in the old tractor he let me use. By the time it was fixed, we had to wait for the mud to freeze up so we could get back there. Most recently, we had to wait for the snows to back off a bit. All I had to do was back the tractor to the trailer & haul it home. With this lull in the weather, Sidney saw this as his last good chance to get the trailer under cover for the winter. |
Early snows - Winter, 1978
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Late Dec, 1978
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By Friday morning, the clouds had rolled in & walking up to the outhouse, the sky was slate gray, with not a breath of wind. With the bedroom's little coal burner freshly stoked, a blackened smoke fell down from of the chimney, spreading out through the apple trees in the backyard. Sitting there on a cold wooden seat, a snowflake or two flutttered by the open door. I heard a truck rattle up the lane & stop - that would be Sidney, come to flush me out. I called out from my perch that I'd be down directly . . . |