In honor of Fathers Day, here's a photo of my Dad in 1945. He's standing on a hill in Auxier, Kentucky. Note the coal-company style houses down the hill behind him.
This was around the time I was born, July 1945. In later years, but while I was still pretty young, Auxier was kind of a magical place for me. Almost a Tom Sawyer kind of place. When we were there in the summers I spent the entire time barefoot, and at the end of a day my friends and I would be pretty well powdered over with coal dust. When I was big enough, my chore would be to tote a bucket down to the nearby well and pump water to carry back to the house (not too far). I'm pretty sure that was the best water I've ever had. We used the water for drinking, cooking, and bathing, because there was no piped water into the house. We also had no indoor toilet, so the restroom was a short hike back past the cornfield. Good times!
Observations, thoughts, reminiscences, and occasional rants on anthropology, linguistics, old-time banjo, and anything else that crosses my path...
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