INTRODUCTION to my Book The Greasy Creek Boys The Adventures of Jesse and Silas My name is Jesse Henry Claybourne and I’d like to say that my family comes from a long line of Claybournes but that wouldn’t be quite right. Daddy doesn’t even know his mommy and daddy’s name. John Henry Claybourne, that’s my daddy. He’s a product of the environment. His destiny was to be a coal miner at the age of six months. His mother handed him out a train window to an old coal miner, Hank Claybourne, and his wife Nell in the town of Pikeville, Kentucky in the year 1926. Maggie, that’s my mommy. She was raised in the head of Greasy Creek Holler. She was a mother hen as far back as she could remember to eight siblin’s, three brothers and five sisters. She was never out of Greasy Creek Holler until she married Daddy at the age of seventeen. Mommy and Daddy have been married for twenty-one years and blessed with five children now. My older brother Ben ‘Benjamin Henry Claybourne’ is twenty years old and in the Army. Mommy doesn’t get letters from him as often as she’d like. My older sisters, Cathy, is eighteen and Lucy Ann, she’s sixteen, they cant think of nothin except those ugly Rock House boys. Me and Silas, that’s my little brother Silas Henry Claybourne, we stayed out of trouble; most days anyways. Grandpa, Luke Harmon, he aint a bad sort; just a little mean and lazy, and he liked the taste of whiskey a little too much Mommy says. Mommy also said that Grandma, Martha, is a saint. Mommy has whopped our hides a few times just because she had thought that we might have aggravated Grandma. The Greasy Creek Boys Daddy works the coal mine. If he wasn’t workin in the coal mine, he was lookin for work in the coal mine, for that’s the only work in the county. Me and Silas, we don’t see Daddy much. He leaves the house before daylight and returns after dark except durin the long days of summer; so Mommy rules the house most of the time. Mommy stands about five-foot, eight-inches tall; a healthy lookin woman with long black hair, dark eyes, and a very pretty smile. She’s a woman with a strong mind and she doesn’t have any problems speakin her mind when she feels the need. She has forced her will of right-and-wrong with a switch across our backsides when we aggravated her and that seemed to be quite often. Mommy tried her best to keep a tight leash on our whereabouts; but like all the other hollers in the county, our neighbors were like family; for the most part anyways. Everybody knows everybody within a country mile and we visited one another often. Among our family, friends, and neighbors we have our share of squirrel hunters, bootleggers, poker players and drunks who roamed through this holler and me and Silas, we know each and every one by their first name. Callin anybody, young or old, by their last name is just downright rude; except for the school teacher, of course. One Sunday afternoon, on cemetery flat, Grandpa and his drankin buddies gave me my first lesson in poker playin, which I enjoyed very much. They also gave me lessons in how not to chew and spit backer, be a drunk and cuss. Grandpa’s buddies were supposed to have been the meanest men in the holler, but as I listened to how they helped a neighbor with his funeral, I realized they were just good old boys who “like to drank too much” as Grandpa did. The Greasy Creek Boys Me and Silas, we enjoy our life; not a worry in the world. We never realized Mommy and Daddy had any worries until the election when such-a-ruckus came about between those who wanted the whiskey and the beer to sell legally and those who didn’t. The wet/dry vote caused our friends, our neighbors, church goers, husbands and wives to argue and sometimes, to even fight among themselves. That’s when me and Silas decided we wanted to see what beer tasted like for the very first time and it was our last time, too, I tell ya. One moonlit night me an Silas, we ventured over to visit our neighbor and help ourselves to the spirits that Bootleg Charlie kept hidden in a cold spring behind his house. We saw no harm in it but when Mommy caught Silas down at the bend in the Creek a few days later with those Ohio girls sippin on beer and doin who- knows-what... well, I should never have asked why she was beatin’ Silas with a switch. She wrapped that switch over my shoulder and down my back. “I should’ve whooped you instead of Silas,” she said. “It’s your fault those half-naked Ohio girls come around here drinkin beer, makin my baby boy do thangs he shouldn’t.” I felt her switch wrap across my shoulder once more before she went in the house. School began in early September, just after Labor Day weekend. Gettin ready for school was no picnic. Gettin a haircut and goin to town for new clothes was almost as bad as goin to school...well, maybe worse. Hassle, the barber, he knew only one way to cut hair, the G.I. flattop haircut. ! ! The Greasy Creek Boys Me and Silas, we talked with Daddy and Daddy agreed that Hassle needed to learn a new style of cuttin hair because me and Silas, we wanted longer hair like the older fellers who carried pocket combs. We thought it was cool. Mommy wouldn’t satisfy with us gettin our hair cut. Nooo... we wasted another Saturday ridin in the back of Daddy’s truck for hours and hours goin to town just to try on shoes that we didn’t want and new britches that Mommy didn’t allow us to get dirty. Me and Silas, we just didn’t see any reason for all that. The only good thang about goin to school...we got to play ball; but on our very first day, me and Silas felt the burn from Mr. Cornwall’s new paddle. Silas, dab-burn-his-sorry-hide, he should’ve known better to think the girls we went to school with would act like those Ohio girls. He couldn’t get those Ohio girls off his mind to save his soul. Before class started, I was out on the ball field playin ball when I heard Silas hollerin from behind the school house. “Help me Jesse! Help me!” When I got there to see what his problem was, Nellie, a heavyset girl, was sittin straddled, right on Silas’s chest, bustin his face with both hands. When I tried to help, I found myself in the same predicament Silas was in. Mr. Cornwall, our teacher, who had also taught Mommy back in the day, knew everybody in the holler and Mr. Cornwall was respected by all as a fine ballplayer and a teacher. Mr. Cornwall was an older feller with a short temper and he wasnt pleased that he had to give up playin ball to see what all the ruckus was about. Ooh we paid for aggravatin Mr. Cornwall! Unlike brother Silas who never went into the mountains, I took to the mountains and to huntin like a good squirrel dog took to leftover biscuits and gravy. The only animal left to hunt throughout The Greasy Creek Boys these Appalachians within somewhat of abundance was the squirrel. Squirrel huntin on the weekends was the pastime for most of us fellers in these hollers. Even those fellers who sat in the shade sippin on a good taste of moonshine thought they should go squirrel huntin every now and then; as Uncle Buddy and his friend Bert did. My dog Hector and I came upon Uncle Buddy and Bert high in the mountains one squirrel huntin day. They were leanin against a tree with a shotgun in one hand, a bottle of moonshine in the other and a smile on their faces. In the days that followed Uncle Buddy and Bert bragged about their hunt with Hector and me to anybody that would listen and I had hoped the story by-passed Mommy ears, but that wouldn’t the case. A few days later, me, Mommy, and Silas was out in the yard at the lower side of house. Mommy had just rung a chicken’s neck and slung it under a washtub when Uncle Buddy hollered from the road, “Hey sis, havin chicken for supper? “Come on over Brother and join us. We have plenty.” Mommy said in a real nice voice. Uncle Buddy should’ve known better. It wasnt but a few minutes until we heard Mommy givin him a good tongue lashin on the evils of drinkin while huntin with me. Needless to say, Uncle Buddy didn’t stay for supper. When the Wish Book, the Sears Christmas catalog, came in the mail our days of boredom were filled with thoughts of Christmas. Just the word Christmas gave us somethin to look forward to. It was a day of havin good food, gettin presents, friends and family stoppin by and havin fun, but most of all Christmas Day was Daddy’s birthday. The Greasy Creek Boys The bitter cold winter months dragged on for what seemed like forever. Some days it felt as if spring would never come. But it did and in the spring of 1969 our way of livin as me and Silas knew it was comin to an end. Our school and the lower Greasy school were bein torn down. We were gonna be bused in the fall to the new school at Middle Greasy. Daddy and Mommy purchased a house with property just above the forks from where our old school sat and we were movin. Nancy Jane, our neighbor who lived all alone since the passin of her husband,was sellin her house and land. Bootleg Charlie, who owned property joinin hers, was sellin his property, too. He had to give up his bootleg business thanks to the wet/dry vote that really never happened for the county, but did pass within the city limits of Pikeville. For the last time me and Silas, we stood on the edge of the porch of our little house. And with the cold rain water squished between my toes I was thankin how beautiful the mountains were. “It’s early spring, Silas.” I said. “Everythang grows real fast this time of year. Trees are sproutin green leaves after the night’s rain. White blossoms are fillin the tops of the wild cherry trees. Birds are sangin’. Wildflowers will soon cover the fence around the garden. Winter’s gone and I can feel the warm air of spring movin through the holler. By nightfall we will have forgotten all about the fire that burned in the mountains last night, and the hills, they’ll turn as green as a summer mornin’. Purchase at…Amazon.
Posted on: Tue, 27 Jan 2015 14:20:04 +0000