Recently I was riding down my road observing the natural beauty of the ride when I passed by a home that had been boarded up for about six months. There standing by the side of the road was a lone old country chair. Placing things out by the side of the road signals to folks that the article is a give-away -- take it if you want it. I swung around and went back for it. I suspect that only someone like me would take such a chair -- it was rather crude for most folk's taste.
I knew a little history of the boarded up primitive house -- the former resident had been born in the house -- she was about 70 when she up and left this home to move into an apartment. She never waved at anyone nor even looked in their direction. This is about all I knew about this unusual woman.
I do know her name though, it was Alberta (not Susie).
Just think of the character Boo Radley in the movie, To Kill A Mockingbird, and you will instantly know her reclusive personality. Cats, dogs, and chickens were her friends -- she did not talk with anyone that lived along the road. She lived a lifestyle reflective of early Appalachian culture -- individualistic and sustainable. She intrigued me.
Just think of the character Boo Radley in the movie, To Kill A Mockingbird, and you will instantly know her reclusive personality. Cats, dogs, and chickens were her friends -- she did not talk with anyone that lived along the road. She lived a lifestyle reflective of early Appalachian culture -- individualistic and sustainable. She intrigued me.
So I grabbed the chair from the side of the road and brought it home to be placed in my yard until I could decide what to do with it. Here was a chair that had accumulated years of wear at Alberta's home. It was, a testament to a former culture, homemade and worn. Somewhere within the chair is a story, maybe I can retrieve it over time?
ADDENDUM -- Talked with a local man that knew the family that owned the above chair. The woman's name was Alberta not Susie. Alberta was born in the house referred to in this post.
Alberta's mother lived there too -- her name was Omi Pigg. The local man used to sell eggs to Omi Pigg about thirty years ago. Omi was very friendly according to the local man and would always sit outside in the handmade chair. He said at one time it had a matching ottoman.
The house never had running water and was brought in by bottles. There was a crude septic that was illegal. He figured that the house was at least sixty years old or more.
