Charlotte Yankey Crider (1927-2016) wrote the following stories about her grandparents Michael and Lavina Thomas who lived on the Shenandoah Mountain.
In a pantry on the porch was the biggest flour bin I ever saw. This was filled with different kinds of flour which had been raised on the farm and ground at one of the mills on either side of the mountain. The flours were mostly whole wheat, rye, buckwheat, and cornmeal, enough for the family for one year.
There was another porch on the front side of the house. There was long wooden benches against the wall where we would sit of summer days and evenings. There was complete solitude and quietness, only the sound of birds, sometimes whip-pour-wills and the rustle of wind. In the winter time this porch would almost drift shut with snow as the north wind would blow it down from the big hills.
Inside the bare wooden floors were always scrubbed clean. There were two small curving stairways, kerosene lamps, a row of lanterns hanging on the rafters and guns needed for hunting. Two wood stoves heated this house.
Three things of interest to me in this home was a beautiful light brown pitcher that sat on top of a hutch. It had a hound dog-shaped handle. It was brought from Germany by our early ancestors. In the living room on the wall were a fancy metal comb case and a wall kerosene lamp with a reflector behind it. In this room also was a solid cherry secretary book case where valuables were kept. A spire-topped wall mantel clock would strike on a wall shelf.
There was an orchard with many kinds of apple, cherry, peach, pear, and plum trees.
Chickens roamed everywhere. At night they had to be kept closed in coops to keep animals from getting them. There was also coops of an old hen and her baby chicks, which she had hatched from setting on her eggs for 20 days.
On the very top of the hill was the barn and wagon shed. My granddad never owned an automobile. He either traveled by walking, horseback, or on a sled or a wagon. He had a wagon called a buckboard that had a seat and brakes on it.
The men would work in fields far away from the house down over the mountain top. I would enjoy helping my aunt prepare a lunch in buckets covered with a clean tea towel and carry it to the fields where the men were working. It was nice to sit down under a big shade tree and enjoy the homemade bread, butter, apple butter, fried ham and eggs, and cool mint tea. I enjoyed hearing these sweaty men talk and see them enjoy the food.
The only toys were one big wooden wagon, beautiful carved wooden animals and rag dolls. My cousins and I played pretend, making playhouses using rocks, laying them like foundations, forming different rooms. We would line them with soft mountain moss for carpets, as there was many rocks and much moss. We would use broken pieces of dishes and bottles for dishes. Gathered all kinds of plants for pretend food.
The mail carrier delivered mail several days a week to the top of the mountain. People from each family who lived on the mountain would gather early at the row of mail boxes, just waiting for the arrival of the mail. Each hoping to get some mail, much of their merchandise was ordered from mail order houses then. Mail carriers were very nice and generous then. He would also deliver groceries and sometimes passengers.
Once a month, except winter months, church service was held at the one-roomed schoolhouse. People mostly walked there. Usually there was a different minister who came from out in the valley. Everyone sang the songs, loudly from the heart, no music instruments to accompany them. I really enjoyed attending this occasion, better than if I were in the biggest cathedral in the world—just listening and seeing everyone dressed in their best clothing.
The only other event was the regular school classes, where there was eight grades taught., programs, spelling bees, ball games, or a box social.
Nearly every other weekend, my parents would visit relations that lived on this mountain—No wonder they became so much a part of my life. Everyone was so nice and friendly. I never remember my grandparents ever being rude or unkind to me or anyone. There was six children in my mother’s family. Today this mountain home is only shambles and memories.
