Gun violence has been a big part of my family heritage from birth onward since I am a descendant of two feuding mountain families, the Hatfield-McCoy and the Greene-Jones feuds. While these took place in the late 1880's, they have dominated many of my family and outside acquaintance discussions. Even today, everyone is curious about how these feuds started, how many were killed, who was involved, and other questions about violent mountain people. It's hard for people to understand the influence of post Civil War time, timber rights and scare useable land, long held family grudges, and daily contact with folks whom you dislike and distrust. Then there is the biggest factor of all, mental illness. My great, great Grandfather was one of the primary instigators of the Greene-Jones feud, and it is abundantly clear from family stories that he was not of sound mind. My relatives today tell stories about his beliefs, delusions, and actions as a result of those delusions. Needless to say there were no treatment options for him.
As a result of the current debate about gun ownership, protection rights and mass shooting going on presently in our county, I feel compelled to address feuds and gun violence from our family perspective in this blog. My family owned guns, largely shot guns, which were used to kill hogs and other animal 'varmits' that harmed our livestock and home. Occasionally Daddy squirrel hunted, but nothing more. He believe in gun ownership, but never made much "to do' about hit". I was never taught to shoot because that was not a woman's job. I was taught to stay clear of all guns and that guns are very dangerous tools capable of killing me and others.
My husband was taught to shoot; squirrel hunted as a youth, and until about 30 years ago we owned two shot guns. By the time our children were born we began to see the need to removed the guns from our house to protect them from their own and friends curiosity. The guns went back to my husband's family in East TN where they were safely stored away. We never saw the need to teach our sons how to shoot guns or how to use them for sport. We wanted a different life for them, and by this time guns had been used to kill Presidents and the Vietnam War was on. Times were changing. The horror of war and assassinations was too real and the availability and use of guns became tied to the problem.
The topic of guns recently reappeared in my life when those stored shot guns, which had not been used in years, had to be sold to remove them from my husbands family home. The second husband who lives in the family home with my mother-in-law now has Alzheimer's disease and showed tendencies of violence. He recently threatened to shoot some people with whom he had argued. The sale of the guns was welcomed by me. I had never had a fondness for guns and always felt they were highly dangerous to have around.
Currently, as a result of so many mass shooting in recent history, I have become an anti-gun activist. The incident in Connecticut has made my resolve stronger. I have heard the rhetoric of the NRA too long and know that it was never about anyone's rights or protection. It's all about selling guns and making money for the gun lobbies. Tennessee, much to my disgust, is still in the pockets of the NRA along with tons of other states. Supposedly, Nashville will host an NRA Convention in the upcoming future. The Mayor and Chamber were thrilled and ready to do whatever it took to land the deal including building a new convention center to house all the attendees. Again, the issue was about MONEY for the local economy. Really??? We have to dance with the NRA to have a prosperous local economy??
How long will it be and how many more innocent victims will have to die before we wake up and realize that our society can no longer tolerate guns owned at random by citizens who are mentally ill, have grudges, come home from many wars with traumatized brains, and are really no different from the Hatfields', McCoys' Greene's, or the Jones', or the drug gangs that compete for clients and business. I would like to think that we are very far removed from a pioneer society; that we have rules and laws that protect us. Will we ever see that all life is SACRED. We must accept that a more civilized way of living with each other has become a necessity.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Monday, December 10, 2012
A Hatfield Style Christmas
While many families speak of their Christmas traditions, I can only report that we had few of them. Being a very practical minded person Mama did not believe in creating unnecessary work or confusion to life's routines. She viewed her daily routines as necessary activities to getting a day's chores completed. She varied her schedule little on holidays or weekends.
We were not necessarily a religious family. Like everyone else in Hancock County we had been saved, baptized, and attended a Baptist church, but that was the end of the story. There were no plays about the Nativity, no special music, no visits with Santa, or annual celebrations around Christmas. The only tradition I remember coming close to Christmas was the annual winter revival at many of the Baptist churches. Our family in particular was pretty soured on religion, period.
This attitude resulted from Uncle Chester, Aunt Ruby's preacher husband, who traveled around to lots of churches helping with revival meetings during the winter. While I have no knowledge about when his womanizer reputation developed, by the time I came along this reputation was well established. The whole family shared gossip about his latest affairs at different church revivals. The stories about his escapades came from a variety of sources including neighbors, distant relatives, and friends who had been witness to some of his behavior. It seems he would preach a fiery sermon and get some of the women all worked up in a shouting frenzy, then he would praise and charm the women who did it, and after several nights he would move in with his seduction techniques. Somehow he managed to spend two or three winter months mostly away from home. By June the gossip had traveled back to Mama and other relatives who spent the next several months clattering among themselves about his behavior and how Aunt Ruby should not put up with it.
One of the end results from Uncle Chester's behavior was a total disdain of religion or preachers in particular. This seemed to transform eventually into a blanketed disrespect for most religions and events associated with religion. Mama never trusted a preacher and seldom showed up for worship at any church. When this disdain was combined with a lack of other religious activities during the winter, few traditions were established surrounding Christmas. We did not worship baby Jesus; we did not sing Christmas carols, and there was no midnight worship on Christmas Eve. In fact we never talked about it.
For our family, Christmas was about the food, family gatherings and storytelling. Our only traditional food was Apple Stack Cake. With Mama's nine brothers and sisters and Daddy's eight, we had plenty of people who arrived for the food and fellowship. In fact, we often had more people at our house than any church in our part of the county. The focus was on who could share the best family story after the meal. No presents were given. We were our gift to each other.
I remember some years having a cedar Christmas tree which Mama chose, chopped down, drug to house, set up, and decorated herself because Daddy was busy hauling freight from Knoxville. As she aged these trees became fewer and eventually it stopped entirely. She said it was too much trouble because she had to do all the work. This ended the one random, and only Christmas style tradition I ever knew. Later after I started my own family we added some of the Christmas traditions of trees, music, events, and even a nativity scene, but now that I'm older I've become Mama and can't bear the thoughts of any of this. It's simply 'too much trouble' now.
We were not necessarily a religious family. Like everyone else in Hancock County we had been saved, baptized, and attended a Baptist church, but that was the end of the story. There were no plays about the Nativity, no special music, no visits with Santa, or annual celebrations around Christmas. The only tradition I remember coming close to Christmas was the annual winter revival at many of the Baptist churches. Our family in particular was pretty soured on religion, period.
This attitude resulted from Uncle Chester, Aunt Ruby's preacher husband, who traveled around to lots of churches helping with revival meetings during the winter. While I have no knowledge about when his womanizer reputation developed, by the time I came along this reputation was well established. The whole family shared gossip about his latest affairs at different church revivals. The stories about his escapades came from a variety of sources including neighbors, distant relatives, and friends who had been witness to some of his behavior. It seems he would preach a fiery sermon and get some of the women all worked up in a shouting frenzy, then he would praise and charm the women who did it, and after several nights he would move in with his seduction techniques. Somehow he managed to spend two or three winter months mostly away from home. By June the gossip had traveled back to Mama and other relatives who spent the next several months clattering among themselves about his behavior and how Aunt Ruby should not put up with it.
One of the end results from Uncle Chester's behavior was a total disdain of religion or preachers in particular. This seemed to transform eventually into a blanketed disrespect for most religions and events associated with religion. Mama never trusted a preacher and seldom showed up for worship at any church. When this disdain was combined with a lack of other religious activities during the winter, few traditions were established surrounding Christmas. We did not worship baby Jesus; we did not sing Christmas carols, and there was no midnight worship on Christmas Eve. In fact we never talked about it.
For our family, Christmas was about the food, family gatherings and storytelling. Our only traditional food was Apple Stack Cake. With Mama's nine brothers and sisters and Daddy's eight, we had plenty of people who arrived for the food and fellowship. In fact, we often had more people at our house than any church in our part of the county. The focus was on who could share the best family story after the meal. No presents were given. We were our gift to each other.
I remember some years having a cedar Christmas tree which Mama chose, chopped down, drug to house, set up, and decorated herself because Daddy was busy hauling freight from Knoxville. As she aged these trees became fewer and eventually it stopped entirely. She said it was too much trouble because she had to do all the work. This ended the one random, and only Christmas style tradition I ever knew. Later after I started my own family we added some of the Christmas traditions of trees, music, events, and even a nativity scene, but now that I'm older I've become Mama and can't bear the thoughts of any of this. It's simply 'too much trouble' now.
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