Christmas in Matheson Cove

 My new children's picture book, Christmas in Matheson Cove, is at press now.

I'm very excited about the release of my family history story.  Catch the Spirit of Appalachian is printing the book.

More information is upcoming.

Up the Walnut Tree

My sister, Barbara Ledford Wright, is the guest writer on my blog.  She's an award-winning writer and has been published in many journals.  Her story is about our family growing up in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Up the Walnut Tree

Barbara Ledford Wright

    Huck Finn explored the Mississippi River, but Reuben Ledford (our uncle) loped through the Matheson Cove barefooted.  He was born in 1927 in Hayesville, North Carolina.  This story takes place when he was ten years old.

    Reuben hauled his coon dogs in a little red wagon and he smoked rabbit tobacco in a corncob pipe.

    Bob and Minnie Matheson Ledford (Barbara and my grandparents) forbid their children to smoke.  "I'll take you behind the corncrib if I catch you smoking," threatened Bob.

    Reuben snickered and swiped red hair from his freckled face.  He took a pocketknife from his overalls and sliced a Black Ben Davis apple.

    "We want a bite," begged Ronda (Barbara and my father), Ralph, Reba, Rena, Ray, Robenia, and Robert.

    

    "If you want any apples, get'm yourself," said Reuben.

    Reba tattled, "Daddy, Reuben stole an apple from Ed Murray's orchard."  Bob ordered Reuben to march to the corncrib.

    Reuben took off like a jack rabbit and climbed a walnut tree.  It was near the spring.  Minnie dropped her bucket of water.

    "Reuben, get out of that tree!  You'll break your neck."

    "Heck no!  Daddy's going to tan my hide."

    By this time, Bob reached the walnut tree.  He heaved for breath and wiped his face with a red bandanna.

    "Get out of that tree!  I'll whip the shirt off your back when I catch you!"

    Reuben unbuttoned his shirt and slung it to the ground.

    Bob's face turned ruby.  He skidded on a walnut hull and landed on Ole' Blue, the hound dog.  It howled and Reuben laughed.  The children held their breaths.  They couldn't disrespect their daddy.

    Bob struggled to his feet and limped toward the log cabin.  He shook a finger and yelled, "I'll get you, boy!"

    Years later when Reuben was a grown man, he remembered that he got a good switching that day.  His behavior improved and he respected his father from that day on.

This story is reprinted from:  "Our Southern Memories," March-April 2024

If you like this story, please e-mail my sister.  She's recovering from a knee replacement surgery, and would love to hear from you.  Her e-mail is:  bwright22441@gmail.com