Heritage

My 85 year old uncle passed away last week and my mother, my wife and I travelled to Eastern Kentucky for his funeral. What set out to be a simple overnight trip for the visitation and funeral turned out to be a very thought-provoking trip about heritage and culture.

When my ancestors from Ireland and Germany came to the new world at the end of the 18^th century and beginning of the 19^th century they made their way to the mountains and hollows of Appalachia and largely stayed there until a handful of their 20^th century descendants moved on – mostly to the Bluegrass region of Central KY. My parents left the mountains in the mid-1960s, due to my dad’s recognition that the region offered limited economic opportunities for him and his family. Another way of saying that is much more blunt: Dad did not want to be trapped working in a coal mine all of his life. Once he and Mom moved to Lexington he found many more economic opportunities he had long dreamed of – he eventually became the owner of two businesses and also fulfilled his dream of owning a very small thoroughbred horse farm. Dad did not necessarily look back with fondness at his old home in the mountains. He more or less viewed it as a land of limited economic and cultural opportunities and hardships. Once he moved to Lexington he became a true citizen of the Bluegrass, and had no desire to return other than to visit family.

My mother could not be more opposite. All of her life I have heard her say that she would move back in a heartbeat, and that she would be perfectly happy in a log cabin nestled away in the mountains. Unlike my dad, Mom has never wavered from her idyllic view of the mountains’ beauty and the romanticism of the culture and way of life. Even the coal tipples that dot the mountain sides, which are as ubiquitous as the steeples of the Old Regular Baptist, Primitive Baptist and Pentecostal churches, hold a special place in her heart because they are so ingrained in the landscape of the region. To be fair, it’s not that my mother does not see the geographic devastation of strip mining or the financial hardships that confront many of the communities and families in “coal country,” but she has always focused on the majestic beauty of the landscape and the resiliency of the people as attributes which vastly outweigh the negatives.

View from Pine Mountain

I suppose my own point of view is a blend of both my mom and dad. Visiting my family in Eastern KY has always been like an immigrant to America who takes his children to the “old world.” My mother could never understand my muted reaction when she would say to me “this is where you are from.” I would always counter with, “no, Mom – this is where YOU are from. I’m from the Bluegrass.” Make no mistake – they are very different regions of the Commonwealth, not only in terms of economic opportunity but in geography and culture as well. My parents were raised in the shadows of Pine Mountain and Black Mountain and were accustomed to seeing big trucks filled with coal or lumber race up and down the roadways. Lined out hymns from Old Regular Baptist churches filled the air alongside the fire and brimstone of Pentecostal preachers. The Cumberland River served as a directional guide as people travelled daily either “up the river” or “down the river.”

This is a different world from the one in which I was born and raised in rural Clark County. In some senses it was as if I was born and raised in a different Kentucky. The landscape is vastly different: there are no mountains but sloping hills, endless streams and creeks, and vast expanses of meadows. Although they are almost extinct now, tobacco farms once dotted Central Kentucky and the rhythms of life revolved around the planting, cutting and hanging of tobacco. The ruins of rusted coal tipples in Eastern Kentucky find their counterparts in the remnants of old tobacco barns in the Bluegrass region. Of course, there are also the horse farms which are like no other anywhere else in the world. Elegant and ornate barns and miles of fencing are distinct characteristics which make the Bluegrass unique.

This is not to say that one region or way of life is better than the other – they are just different. I am proud to say that my parents, grandparents, and most of my family are mountaineers. The same resiliency which has sustained the mountain peoples of Appalachia for so long is the same quality which helped make my parents, and so many people like them, become successful professionals, business owners, involved citizens and stakeholders in new communities. When I visit my family in Bell County, Harlan County and Letcher County, and when I travel across Pine Mountain, I cannot help but be moved by the incredible beauty which God has bestowed upon this part of the country. Like my mother, I too appreciate the steadfastness with which the mountain communities have managed to hold on to a rich Appalachian culture.

At the same time, I recognize that when I travel to Eastern Kentucky I am an outsider to some degree. Yes, I am loved and welcomed as family, but I am not a native. No matter how many times I look in awe at the mountain tops and valleys, I will never be able to see them through my mother’s eyes. But nor will my mountain cousins ever be able to look at the morning fog as it sets upon a thoroughbred horse farm with my eyes – or my dad’s eyes for that matter.

Foggy morning in the Bluegrass

That, however, is not really necessary. The point is that it is entirely possible to be proud of one’s ancestral homeland without actually being “from” a certain place. I am a true son of the Bluegrass, but the lessons which were instilled in me by my parents were the same lessons and values which molded them in a very different part of Kentucky. For that I am truly grateful.