Blocked Culverts, Clogged Ditches, and Family Feuds
When the Rain Came Down
When rain came down in the holler, it washed leaves and debris off the hills and into the creeks and ditches. Culverts would become blocked, and the water would back up, eventually running across the road and washing away the gravel. Papaw worked hard to keep the culverts cleared, sometimes working on them before the downpour had even stopped. He kept the ditches and creeks cleaned out from his house to the main road.
Papaw had a lot of trouble keeping the ditch cleared down the road from the house. He would reroute the water into the ditch to keep the road from rutting out, only to find the ditch clogged again later, and water running across the road.
One day, after the rain cleared, we all loaded up and headed to town. Halfway out of the holler, coming up on Papaw's troublesome spot, we saw Papaw's brother. He was rerouting the ditch to run across the road.
Papaw hit the brake and threw the car in park. He slung the car door open so hard it bounced back. Papaw's outstretched hand stopped it, and he stumbled out, stomping mad. Shaking his finger and cussing his brother until a fly wouldn't land on him.
Brother Warren swung his arms around, mumbling incoherently, his eyes wild under thick, bushy brows. Thin, black, greasy hair hung to his shoulders.
The car shook as Joseph, Leslie, and I cheered Papaw on.
Warren had taken his shirt off as he worked. Papaw jerked Warren's shirt out of his hand, threw it in the ditch, and stomped it into the mud. Profanity echoed throughout the holler as the argument escalated.
What Warren took offense to the most was being called a son of a bitch, accusing Papaw of calling his own mother a bitch.
Papaw got back in the car, and we continued on our way to town. In the backseat, Joseph, Leslie, and I recounted the events of the fight, reenacting the funniest parts. We laughed until tears rolled.
Warren went to the sisters' house to fill them in on his side of the argument, getting them fired up about Papaw calling his own mother a bitch.
Even though they all lived in the same holler, Papaw stopped speaking to his brother and sisters. The feud lasted for years.
About the Creator
Kass
I am an Appalachian writer, born and raised in West Virginia. I write about the people, places, memories, and moments that have shaped my life, from growing up in the holler to my life today at Whimsical Pines Farm.
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