We're presently about 6 miles East of Ripley, which lies approximately in the halfway point between Charleston & Parkersburg. I and wife will be moving to Fairplain in the first of December, that too will lie about 6 miles from Ripley but off to the South of it.
I am a transplant from down around the Shenandoah Valley area. Grew up and lived around what is called NewBroadVille, TimberMarketWay, BroadMarketVille depending if you were in Broadway, Timberville, New Market. All three little towns seemed to merge into one yet maintained their own unique individuality.
A good part of my childhood was spent around what is known as Coot's Store. That was off of RT 259, turned onto Road 316 and could run all the way from Cottageville to Harrisonburg on 316, it was kind of a sneaky back road to get nearly anywhere you needed to go in the area.
Neff Lumber Mill was just a few miles up from where I lived as a child. At some point, my Paw Paw took me up and dropped me off for "a man's day of work, for a man's day of pay". I think he thought young boy that I was, I would bulk at working. Tickled him I took to it like a duck to water.
Wound up at times running off to the mill and helping a bit. Guess I picked up being a roughneck. *chuckles*Been up here in West By Gawd over a decade or so, maybe more now. *grin* Wife and her granddad before he went on ahead of us, pronounced me a hillbilly simply due to me staying around long enough. Her granddad smelled the Scott in my family line too. Boy, he was a character and a half truly loved him.
Bah, it's always the good ones. I was born in Orlando, FL. Somewhere along the way, a myth got started. As a baby, I crawled over and took a plunge into a swimming pool. A fellow that had been an S.E.A.L, was in a wheelchair by the pool. He jumped in and held me up giving me back to mom, who had only turned away for a second. So the myth goes I fell off an orange tree into the Atlantic, got helped out by a BUD, been kicking ever since.
Never been anything special. Not sure I would desire to be either. Been around enough that is, were special and got a sense of what it takes. In my humble view of the special like that, it makes me proud of them but at the same time queasy inside to think of trying to fill their boots. I'd be no count for trying it and I know that. Granted I'd give it one Hell of a try if it were ever needed, rather not though, I'd fail horribly. I'm just me, an old rough and tumble country boy who got dubbed a hillbilly.
Actually, my mamma did tell me I'm special ... ... just like everyone else.
