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Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Appalachian Language - Holler


Photo Courtesy of Corinne Milwee Farley

I’m a hillbilly. I spent the first days of my life in a coal mining camp in Harlan County, Kentucky. After my folks moved into a small rental house in Loyall, Kentucky, we either visited Granny at Chevrolet Mining Camp or my dad’s mother on top of Pine Mountain on Daddy’s days off from his Greyhound driving schedule.

Life was simple, but hard, back then. A water pump outside provided watering needs. Down a little path stood an outhouse for “those” needs. Chickens roamed freely to provide meat and eggs. Everyone worked the garden so there would be vegetables year round. It was hard work, but nobody complained about it; instead, we all did what was necessary to survive.

When I grew up and went away to college, I learned how the outside world judged me by where I came from. I worked hard to rid myself of the telltale accent of my people. From time to time, people laughed at the words I used from my “language.” It was okay to have a Spanish, British, Italian, German, French, or even Indian accent, but too many people considered a hillbilly accent meant we were all ignorant.

Far from it. Hillbilly is a language, just like all the rest. We have our brilliant minds, our creative geniuses, and our not-so-brilliant exceptions.

So, in this blog, I plan to translate some of my language so you will have a better understanding of and can communicate more effectively with my fabulous culture of the Appalachian (Apple-AT-chun) people.

HOLLER


Deep in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky where I was reared, fog snuggled the mountains at night and late into the morning before the heat of the sun burned it off or changed it into dew to nurture the flora and fauna of the dense forests.

The last place to lose the fog each day is the first word I’m going to define for you. Holler.

Photo Courtesy of Corinne Milwee Farley


A holler (or hollow) is the low place between mountains. If you look at the photos above, everywhere there is a wrinkle in the mountains you will find a holler. Basically, the people settled into hollers because they were more accessible. A holler contains a gentler incline and is easier to clear enough land to build a house, plant a garden, and have some chickens. Also, an underwater spring or creek usually flows in the deepest grooves of the holler.

Photo Courtesy of Corinne Milwee Farley

My mother always told me that the further up the holler people live, the thicker their accent. She also told me that they called them hollers because when mothers needed their family to come home, they’d go out on the porch and “holler” up the holler. The sound echoed between the mountains on either side and the sound carried further. Not sure if that’s true, but it makes for a good story. Living in Appalachia is all about the story.

Photo Courtesy of Tammy Hyatt

Photo Courtesy of Tammy Hyatt

Photo Courtesy of Tammy Hyatt

Photo Courtesy of Corinne Milwee Farley

Photo Courtesy of Corinne Milwee Farley





17 comments:

  1. I grew up in Grayson County and we called them hollers also. And, BTW, my father drove a Greyhound bus for more than 20 years!

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  2. I knew we were kindred spirits, Sharon.

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  3. Beautiful pictures. Looking forward to more thoughts. Thank you.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks. My friends are wonderful photographers.

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    2. Thanks. My friends are wonderful photographers.

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  4. BEAUTIFUL I SURE ENJOYED THANK U FOR SHARING--
    LYNDA S HENSLEY

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    Replies
    1. You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

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    2. You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

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  5. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  6. BEAUTIFUL I SURE ENJOYED THANK U FOR SHARING--
    LYNDA S HENSLEY

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  7. How delightful! Thank you for sharing this with us in the Historic Harlan County group on facebook! Please continue sharing. You're a gifted writer!

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  8. Thank you, Paula. I love writing about "home" in the mountains.

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  9. My great grandma lived in Pine Mountain Isabel Wilson. And my grandma lives in Harlan Kentucky Bertha Sullivan what a beautiful place to go and visit when I was a kid

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  10. I knew a lot of Wilsons and Sullivans when I lived in Harlan. My family came from Pine Mountain, too. They were Nolans and Shells. I miss the Harlan of my youth. The loss in coal jobs has caused a lot of depression in my beloved community.

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