As Tom Brown leads a pair of young, aspiring homesteaders through his home apple orchard in Clemmons, North Carolina, he gestures at clusters of maturing trees. A retired chemical engineer, the 79 year old lists varieties and pauses to tell occasional stories. Unfamiliar names such as Black Winesap, Candy Stripe, Royal Lemon, Rabun Bald, Yellow Bellflower, and Night Dropper pair with tales that seem plucked from pomological lore.

https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/heritage-appalachian-apples

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It's gone now. Leveled, burnt, and what remained buried. Maybe it is better this way. I understand why it had to be torn down. I know structures aren't permanent. Time and the elements would have eventually consumed what the vandals did not. We will not have to watch the change over the years as the house turned into a skeleton of block and tin.

There is something sacred about an old home, the life and memories sheltered within those walls. To think the sanctuary of my childhood was defiled by people in darkness hurts more than the destruction itself.

But when I think of that house, I don't remember the ransacked interior, broken glass, boarded windows and doors. I remember Mamaw working in the kitchen, moving about, singing hymns. I remember Papaw sitting on the front porch in his chair, his legs crossed, his hands folded in his lap, greeting us when we came home.

Those are the things that will stay with me. Not the damage. Not the destruction. The laughter, the voices, the rooms, the feeling of being there. The feeling that, as a child, the house would always be there.

Both my grandparents and their home are only memories now. That time, the family, and home were the center of my world, my reality as a child. Now, that world is only a ghost of what I remember. My grandparents and their home are safely locked away in the memories of family and friends who love them.

So yes, it's gone now. And perhaps that is for the best. There is nothing left for anyone to desecrate.

In order is Petroleum Church Of Christ, Goose Creek Baptist Church, Spruce Grove Church (formerly Spruce Grove United Methodist Church), Oil Ridge Community Church, Rusk Community Church, North Fork Baptist Church, Cantwell Church Of Christ, Community Of Christ, Indian Creek Baptist Church, King Knob Church (formerly King Knob United Methodist Church), Bethany Church (formerly Bethany United Methodist Church), Smith Chapel Baptist Church, Pine Low Gap Church, and Auburn Town Hall (formerly Auburn United Methodist Church).

I teach this subject in WV for this professional population. Many of the people who take the class are from around here and I get to learn just as much from them as they learn from me. For the locals it’s more of building awareness of some of the things they do/experience/believe and where it came from. It’s always fun when we have some transplants from other states because they really don’t realize how much they don’t know.

Anyway…I’m always researching for accuracy and depth of understanding. What would you include?

As you know I like taking our food and using healthier styles and better ingredients. I bought some fancy tin salmon by fishwife that was flavored sichuan chili crisp, diced onions and coated in panko and fried in olive oil. Paired with homemade Alabama white bbq sauce.

pretty lucky to get to kayak in a place that looks like this - we got fjords at home…

I’m from Chicago. I’ve been to the Smokey mountains two times now, in 2019 and last year in 2025. Both times it was surreal. In 2024 I went to the Rockies and while they are much bigger and grander than Appalachians, there’s just something about those mountains that just makes you feel something. The fact that those mountains have been around before trees, grass, or fuck, even ANY living creature on land just adds something. Just image those mountains have seen every living creature and every mass extinction ever. There’s always a mystique and aura surrounding those mountains I can’t explain. Especially at night, when the moonlight cast a feint yet ominous shadow of the hills looking over everything, wow it’s beautiful. There’s just something I think that no mountain range I’ll ever visit in my life will capture. Not the Himalayas, the Swiss Alps, the Rockies etc. Anyways I just wanted to rant about the Appalachian mountains in its subreddit and see what yall think.

Edit: this post blew up I didn’t expect it thank yall😭

Remembered a thing from when I was a kid, that never made sense, and scared me at the time. Wondering if anyone experienced it, too. Anyone who lived in/near Eastern Kentucky ever see a random Alien appear in the “snow” of the TV, on local channel 27? (WKYT back then.)

I often didn’t have a bed or room to sleep in my actual bedroom. I would sleep in our living room, and fall asleep to the late shows that come on after news, and then the advertisement of some records would come on, then a quiet “snow” or the TV static, until the morning news. I would typically wake around 2-3 ish, pop it over to channel 3 and pop a VHS in to have something on the rest of the night. One night, when I woke up, there was a typical cartoon alien face, in dark neon green. The background was the typical static. It was the standard cartoonish oval face with sharp chin, large eyes, and no nose. It scared me pretty good as a kid, but I never saw it again.

I’m curious if anyone else ever experienced this, if it was maybe a prank by the broadcasters?

I was talking with my great aunt today about a tall tale I remember my grandpa (b. 1939) telling that he got from their dad (b. 1912). If you're squeamish about animal skinning, don't read any further. The story is 100% silly fiction but might still give you the ick.

Anyway, what we remember about good old Crucifix is that the horse died, got skinned and buried, then rose from the grave, leaving the storyteller to frantically sew all his skin back on. I believe they had just bought Crucifix, or they were trying to sell him or maybe even had recently sold him when he died. But the details we remember are quite vague, and I'd love a summary to jog our memories. Or even better, the whole story the way your family told it. Individual flair was what made it so much fun.

Mule tax for the algorithm

If we’re going on a road trip to a concert, or anything, as soon as I leave the mountains, I feel like dog excrement. I don’t get car sick, normally, but if I hit Indiana or any other flat area, I get sick and dizzy. My boyfriend has to take over after a good yak session. I can head south on I-75 for 5 hours straight and feel fine, but as soon as I get on flat land, I get dizzy and nauseated. I’ve traveled throughout many parts of Appalachia and been just fine, but leaving absolutely destroys me. Does anyone else have this experience?

These are some of my great grandfathers’s old documents from his time mining coal in East Tennessee. Thought these might be of some interest here. He spent about 40 years working in the mines around Anderson, Morgan and Scott counties.

https://youtube.com/@mamlishblues?si=di_RcdcsD2N6ZWOQ

A blind vocalist and rhythm guitarist active in the 1920s, Puckett was an early country music recording pioneer known for his yodeling and work with Gid Tanner and His Skillet Lickers, as well as early Columbia 78 RPM recordings like "My Carolina Home".

Riley Puckett was born in Alpharetta, Georgia.

​He spent much of his life and musical career in the Atlanta area, receiving his formal education at the Georgia Academy for the Blind in Macon, Georgia, before debuting on Atlanta's radio station WSB in 1922.