The Holler

Well I actually have a request for another story of growing up in the country. I do feel rather fortunate that I grew up learning about nature and all of its wonderful glory. There are a lot of benefits to living up a dead end road where everyone knows each other. And back then there weren’t that many people in the holler and half were related in one way or the other. Not to me mind you, but it was just a few family names covered everyone.

The name of the road for instance was then Hankins Hollow, for the ones that first moved into it. Then down the road was Millers Hill, cause at the top of the hill were several houses where the Miller families lived. There were also the Skaggs, the Ackerman family, the Clarks, and the Clines further down the road. We lived just above the “circle” so named because the road at the foot of our driveway made a circle around a pile of briars and black berry bushes.

I grew up literally roaming the hillsides and creek banks, it was so fun, and no one worried about what would happen when I roamed off, cause everyone looked out for each other.  My parents even had to develop a horn tooting pattern so I knew it was them calling me home, because I tended to ignore regular attempts saying I wasn’t sure who it was honking.

Behind our house is a fairly good sized cave, we always were digging for arrow heads and the like. There have been many of those found on this acre of ground Mom and Dad bought. To this day there is one huge rock sitting in the middle of the cave that no one broke up or dug under, I still wonder just what lies beneath it. Maybe one day I’ll get someone to break it up and look under it! For now it’s just fun wondering as all of us have done.

Then there is this small valley that goes around to where the old spring used to be. That was some good water too, not as good as Grandma’s well water, but always cold and a good spot for a drink on a hot day after hike’n around the hills.

And below the house and across the cow pasture, where the persimmon tree was, and at the edge of the bottom field was the creek. I can’t count how many times I’ve been in that creek. I fished in that creek; often times just taking some line and a hook I would sneak off with and just tie it to a branch when I got to the creek. And of course it was just so easy to just dig up some worms right there so you had no need to pack a can of worms with you. Mostly just caught suckers and rock bass but it was so much fun!

Nice little swimming holes there too, it seemed no matter how many times I was told keep out of that creek, I always seemed to wind up soaked before I got home. Even our dog, Satan, (she will be a blog of her own one day) she always would go swimming with me. She loved hanging out and followed me everywhere no matter what my plans were you can bet she was tagging along looking for a ground hog or some other critter to chase.  The name of the creek is Sugar Creek, it’s just south of Possum Holler. And yes those are the real names, so let’s see that means I was raised up Hankins Holler where you had to cross the bridge that ran across Sugar Creek, and both are just south of Possum Holler.  And just over the hills behind the house you could cut over to Hog Run Road. What a great geography lesson!

Today, the holler has changed in many ways; it’s now filled with rental properties and people that just don’t appreciate how things used to be. You type in the address and can find out there is a convicted child molester in one house, then another has more traffic come’n through it than McDonalds drive through window, these things just are sad to me. But there is still some of the original Hankins family here, of course my Mom’s place and my brother actually bought that hillside behind our house that cuts over to Hog Run Road. And there are some of the Skaggs family and the Clines live’n in the holler. And even Ackerman’s still own their land too even if it’s not been lived in for years and years.

All in all, the holler is still here, a few of the names have changed and you can no longer let your dogs roam free to chase ground hogs or let your children roam the hills and creek banks alone. But I will always have those memories of how simple things used to be in my holler.