The Chistmas when grandpa Ned disappeared. Granny Mildred and Grandpa Ned lived way out in the country. I was just a wee little one when grandpa disappeared. But I still recall the Christmas Day when my dad, mom and I were delayed in getting to granny's house on Christmas eve. We lived in Virginia and were headed down to North Carolina for Christmas as usual. That Christmas eve morning, it started sleeting and snowing to beat the band. It was just too icy for us to get down to granny's. Dad called and told granny that we would try to make it there Christmas day. The weather cleared Christmas morning. We headed out. It was slip and slide but we made it to the state border. Granny and grandpa lived just south of the Virginia line in a remote area of North Carolina. It was a little hollow with a few good ole country folks. We pulled up in granny's yard. I was all excited. Dad yelled out in horror, "What in the world, why is mom sitting out on the porch with the door open?" It was cold and had rained here. The drive was riddled with water puddles. Dad and mom jumped from the car with me following behind. Dad ran up and and asked granny what in the world was going on. Granny looked funny. Not funny ha ha, but funny wierd. Here is her story. (the story is written in country folk talk) Wellun, affer yu'n called mah laste night sayin yu'n wuzznt com'n mah and yur pa decided ta gwawn ta baid. Eet wuz a stormin sumptum furus ain cole ez a brass kettul sittin in dah ice. Ned weent on up ta baid en I decided I wuz gwawn ta git me sum milk fur turnin een. I jest got tah da bottum ov dah sturs. Ah knock com on dah front door. I thought, who een dah world could dat be out on such a night. I opened da door. Ah big ole goomer wuz standin dar. He looked down on mah and ast fur a man named Elijah. I ast him whut he wuz doin out in such a storm. All he said was, "I am here for Elijah." I tol him dat dur ain't no body hur named Elijah and closed the door. I stepped towards tha kitchen, and thur wuz anuther knock on the door. I opened it. The man hadnt moved. He told me he wuz here for Elijah. I tol him dat dur ain't no Elijah hur, just me and my husban Ned who is upstairs een da baid. I ast him to kindly to leeve and closed the door again. Befo I could turn aroun, he wuz a knockin again. I tol him dat I wuz gwawn to call dee sheriff if'n he did'n git away frum hur. He looked down at me and ast me if'n I knew who he wuz. I said no sur an don cur. He said back to me, I am dee angel of death and I dunt leave anywhere I go unless I take someone wit me. Bout dat time, his eyes got firey red. I turned up to da haid of da stairs an hollered, "Elijah, some body here to see you." Datz dah laist I seen ov yur daddy. Po ole grandpa Ned.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all of you. I was just wondering..... do I need to rewrite "granny's" story in correct english for some of you. Folks who are not "mountain" savy or educated find it difficult to understand the dialect. If anyone needs the translation, I will be glad to do.
Yassuh boss we sho do. Call it mountun not minstrel. Git away wif it. Richard Pryor hath died in vain.
Uncle Janko Rafreshin ta see yu'n git eet. BTW, it is Blue Ridge Mountain "talk", not racial. And, Richard Pryor is one of my most favored comedians. Merry Christmas and hoped you got a chuckle from the story. Robbie
