It was not until recent years that I realized how unique my upbringing was.  I guess when I was immersed within my culture that I just assumed everyone experienced life the same way.  And of course, I can see that is not the case.  Our extended family was in our household as we were in theirs.  That is just how it was.  As I get older, it seems to be less common to live that way. My great grandmother stayed with us and helped to raise us.  Having raised 12 of her own (though she buried three) she was there in our lives also everyday, even after we left for college.

To be raised with the sensibilities of the 19th century is quite a unique experience.  Then a person was not known by a pigeon-holed title, but as a unique person.  Someone would have a drinking problem but not be known as a drunk.  Or someone would have diabetes, but not be known as a diabetic.  The sensibilities of avoiding war at all costs, except when your very survival is threatened.   She was born in 1887 and lived to be 101 years old.  Her mother lived during the Civil War.   This is a personal account that her mother told her.

When her mother was a child during the Civil War, they would know when the soldiers were coming to the home place.  The mountain people had a primitive, but very effective, system of notification.  When the soldiers would come they would seize the house and all of its contents.  I don't think I need to what happened to the residents.  You can imagine.  And of course, this was all soldiers; North or South.

When they heard that the soldiers were coming, the whole family, armed with nothing but hardtack, would go up and over the hill about a quarter mile from the house.  In the woods was a large tree that had grown with a hollowed trunk.  They would all climb into the tree and put fake wood up to complete the base.  They would pack the quilts and pillows around her little sister who was a baby so that it would deafen her cries.  They could stay about three days and then would sneak out at night and get more supplies.  The winters were cold and the time would pass very slowly.  Of course, any light or fire was not a consideration.  They would just sit in the dark. Luckily, the tree had natural insulating qualities or they would have frozen to death. Sometimes they would be in the tree for two weeks at a time; however long it took until the soldiers had moved on to the next home.

One day we went to the Blue Ridge Mountains of southwest Virginia where my family is from.  We have been going there my entire life.  But on this trip, she showed me the tree that she had told me about.  It sets in a grove of black walnut trees in a lower lying meadow, close to a spring.  So meaningful to hear a true story once removed and even more to see the actual tree.  I remember thinking that if it wasn't for this tree, I would likely not exist, nor others in my life.  And I think often about how many things around me are similar, that I just don't realize.

This is where she lived in Durham before she went back to Virginia where she passed away.  She is buried about two miles from the tree.