"I helped chink it! I helped chink that cabin!" Our guide at the museum of The Carter Family Fold informed us, as we were asking about the A.P. Carter cabin we were about to visit. We were in Hiltons, Virginia, where our granddaughter and her husband had taken us to see this bastion of mountain music and enjoy an evening of the bluegrass/country band's performance.
The old gentleman went on with his story. "I mean I helped re-chink it when it was moved to this location." The cabin had been located in an inaccessible location parallel with Poor Valley, even though it was on the National Register for historic places. It was moved with much difficulty and expense to its present location several years ago.
"I looked up one day and saw a woman looking all around the property. I asked her if I could help her, and she asked if I knew anything about the cabin. I told her that I had helped chink it. She was taking pictures, and the next morning, I turned on the news (I think he said Good Morning America), and there I was on a video, identified as the man who helped restore Alvin Pleasant Carter's cabin!" Surprise! You're on Candid Camera!
Well, if the old location was inaccessible, this one seemed nearly so, as our grandson-in-law drove us deeper into the valley on a winding, mountain road. "I don't know if you all like lemonade or not," he ventured, "but this place has the best lemonade you've ever tasted." And it was unique, generous cups of sweet/sour refreshment we balanced climbing up the stairs to our seats in the building the brochure said seated 800. The announcer said there 300 here tonight.
"Have you ever seen flat-foot dancing?" our granddaughter asked us. We hadn't, but soon after the band performance started, people materialized as if from nowhere on the broad, wooden floor fronting the platform, dancing individually or with partners in a flat foot folk dance of a rapid, heel-and-toe mountain style that vibrated energy throughout the whole auditorium. One couldn't help admiring their enthusiasm, as oldsters, children, and young people alike mesmerized those in the stands with their hoedown to the hard-driving fiddle music.
Howard was having the time of his life, immersing himself in this bit of nostalgic history of his favorite music. "Did you see that open Bible on the table as we came in?" he pointed out. There were reflections of a Christian outlook in religious signs and slogans posted here and there. Judging from the mixed-age gathering, it was family entertainment.
"They always close with a hymn," our young hosts assured us. I thought I had recognized a hymn earlier in the fast music, but I was hoping to hear more. It was getting late, so I pressed to leave after the intermission, but my husband wasn't ready to go. And I was glad we stayed for at least part of the final segment, because they played and sang several spiritual songs then, leaving us humming and thoughtful as we reflected on the music that someone said "goes into your ear, down into your soul, and comes out your feet."
A good analogy of the gospel: one hears it, accepts it, and walks it out and takes it to others! "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings,... that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!" Isaiah 52:7. Now that is real mountain music!
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