I feel personally being thankful is a positive way to live a life. A person constantly filled with anger and resentment can’t enjoy life and is troublesome to one and all. I recall my childhood and the times then were during years that tried people and nations and brought death and suffering to millions.
One positive benefit to my young years was being born and reared in a caring farm family. Since we had fertile soil in our Blue Ridge valley we grew vegetables and fruit in gardens and in the rich bottom lands. Life was simple in our first home, which was built of planks and shingles by my Dad, Neal Justus, and Grandpa Dock Dickerson, father of my mother, Durell. Grandpa had a portable sawmill that he hauled to each tract of wood to be cut. He sawed the planks and two by fours for our home. Although no more than four years old I can dimly recall helping Grandpa by stacking the oak shingles to dry.
In the first years in this home we had no electricity or indoor plumbing. Water was carried from the nearby spring, one of my earliest chores as a child. On cold winter mornings us kids would grab clothes and run to the fireplace to get warm as we dressed. Dad would have gotten up, stoked up the fire and gone to the barn to milk the cows.
When I, the oldest child, grew bigger my main chore was cutting and sawing up trees for the fireplace and stove. Dad bought a new bow saw that was large enough to saw down sizeable trees. He taught how to leave the healthy trees and cull dead, dying or undesirable ones. I felled the trees, sawed them into wood for fireplace and stove, and hauled the wood in a wagon to the woodpile near the kitchen.
The only turkey I recall eating for Thanksgiving during that period was a wild turkey Dad brought in from the forest. Otherwise we ate chickens, ham or sausage, plus vegetables and fruit. During this period the long depression was underway, which would not end until World War II was in full sway in Europe and Asia. The normal conditions of life were poorly insulated homes, hard work, and harsh, cold winters in the mountains. In wartime people prayed, wept and feared for loved ones on far off battlefields. At times sickness came and people died. Dear Mother lost a baby girl at birth, which broke her heart.
In these fearful times kinfolks and neighbors looked out for each other. When Mother had typhoid fever, which she barely survived, a neighbor, Dessie Parker, took Norris, one of my brothers and kept him almost a year while Mother was having her terrible ordeal. Another brother and I – more came later – were cared for by our Grandmother Lela Justus, while Grandmother Effie Dickerson living further away also helped when she could. Both grandparents helped with food.
The point I want to stress about these times was people faced up to conditions as they came and coped with hardships, stresses and trials. Many people had a strong faith in God and our country church would fill each Sunday or during revivals with praying, caring folks who found comfort and support from God and one another. What I experienced among these dear folks in this lovely valley tucked away amid scenic mountains gave me the purpose, will and adaptability to live a long and varied life involving frequent change, far travels and experiences involving wars, injuries, wrecks, sickness, operations, and sometimes personal failures. I look back and say sincerely, “Thank you, Lord! You have been so good to me and my dear family!”
