"There's an age-old superstition that a cat is conjuring up a rainstorm when it washes its face. So what did the mountaineer do? He got it to wash its face! Usually a glob of bacon grease, butter, or ice cream was smudged on a cat's nose or cheek for them to wash off. They'd get the cat to wash its face at least three times that day, and it's said rain would come three days after."
"Most people treat ancestor work like it's a trade, a transaction: they help us, we give offerings, and that's that. Lord, if that ain't further from the truth. In this work you will meet ancestors who weren't very good in life, who bring to light the sins of your blood, and you will be faced with the task of healing these generational wounds."
The following transcripts are from the second Foxfire book from the chapter "Old Time Burials." Trigger warnings for death, funerals and dead bodies.
While reading the following transcripts, please keep in mind that Appalachia has a unique dialect. Many of the words and phrases shown may be foreign to you. They are not misspellings; they are a reflection of Appalachia's dialect.
All transcripts are indented. Any quotes of peoples direct words are bold and italic. My own commentary will be normal text.
I'm making a particular note of the following transcript, because it reflects how society has lost its sense of community and empathy. Even if you choose not to read the rest of the transcripts below the cut, I encourage you to read the following.
While working on this chapter, we learned to value the qualities of unselfishness and concern that people had for others in the time of death and to appreciate the unlimited time they gave of themselves. Showing their genuine sympathy, respect, and love for the family of the deceased, people traveled great distances in wagons and on horseback to attend wakes, help dig and fill the grave, make the coffin, wash and dress the body, and to help the family in any possible way. And they did it, usually, free of charge. As Margaret Norton said, "Th'family didn't have t'pay nothin'. They dug th'grave free of charge. Men went in together and dug th'grave. And you made th'burying clothes, and you made th'box t'be buried in, and there wadn't no payin' goin' on. Th'preacher never charged for a funeral- for preachin' the funeral. They'll charge for funerals now, preachers will. They're not supposed to. See, most preachers is paid by salary, and that's one of his jobs. He ain't supposed t'charge y'. But many of'em'll take anything."
As soon as a person died, a number of things were traditionally done almost simultaneously: a bell was tolled announcing the death; a neighbor was contracted to produce a casket (unless it had been made in advance under the supervision of the person who had died); relatives who lived away from the community were notified as quickly as possible- sometimes by means of a letter edged with a black border; and the body was washed and laid out in preparation for the wake that would take place that night in the home of the deceased. The "settin' up" was held in the home since, as Maude Shope said, "They didn't have no funeral homes t'take'em to, y'know. If one was t'die here last night, we laid'im out. What neighbors was already here 'cause somebody'uz sick would strip th'bed off and put'im on a plain plank till y'got yer casket."
Most of our contacts told us the number of times the bell tolled depended on the age of the person who had died. Ethel Corn, for example, said, "Quick as the news went that they was dead, why somebody would go ring th'bells. And then they'd toll th'bells for however many years old they were. You could count th'bells a'tollin' and you'd know just exact how old that person was."
The thing that stands out the most to me here is the fact that small communities made somebody's death a community-wide event. Showing up to the funeral was just the bare minimum. People made it a point to help the sick during their final days, as well as the family of the sick. Even after death the family's neighbors would contribute to make the wake and burial process easier.
This expression of sympathy and compassion is a rare experience these days. People will show up for funerals, offer the family of the deceased food as a sign of compassion and things like that. Nobody goes to such great lengths, as it has been recorded in this book, to help a friend or neighbor these days. Even in the largest of families, it is almost always left to a small few to sort out the funeral arrangements.
Even pastors, the people who are supposed to be the most compassionate and generous towards their communities, will demand payment or a donation to their church to perform any services for a funeral these days.
It's honestly disgusting to think about how many people profit so much off the dead and their grieving families. The viewing, burial, service fees, transport, casket, embalming and other aspects of a funeral can cost thousands of dollars. Putting the dead to rest shouldn't cost people so much money- especially when families are grieving.
By the time the casket was delivered at the home of the deceased, many of the neighbors in the community would have gathered around those who were mourning. "They'd go spend th'night, y'know," said Mrs. Tom McDowell. "They'd go set up of a night and sing, and people'd come in. And when they died, somebody'd go and toll th'bell at th'church. And that let th'community know. If we'uz workin' in th'fields and somebody died, we quit and we went. Tom's grandmother had a big old sheep horn. And when she died, they got up and blowed that horn. Now we heard that all around. They blew th'horn that noon, and th'horses heard it, they all come in. People didn't work no more till she was buried."
"The neighbors usually did everything," said Mrs. E. H. Brown. "Usually they'd be someone go spend the night with them the first night. They thought they'd be lonesome or something."
The night following the death, it was customary to have a wake, or a "settin'up with th'dead." In fact, this is often still done today. When we asked Fidel Crisp why, he remarked, "Show your respect to th'dead man is all I know. It's th'respect they have for you after you die. And they set up with'im on that account. But now y'die, they don't give a damn whether you live or walk."
The part about spending the night with the dead is intriguing. To many southern and Appalachian folk, it's believed that the dead need time to process their own death and pass on. "They thought they'd be lonesome or something" implies that the dead are still present shortly after their death occurs, and they want comfort. Spending time with the deceased after death wasn't just about comfort, but also respect.
Digging and filling in the grave was a sacred act that was often reserved for friends and neighbors who were close to the family. Ada Kelly verified this by saying, "Friends dug the grave and filled it up afterwards. And some do here now. They used t'be a bunch a'men had tools, shovels, and ever'thing that they needed t'dig graves. And some one person usually had charge of those tools. Different ones in th'community would dig th'grave. It was always very sacred. It'uz just a custom."
Florence Brooks added, "They'd just carry th'casket up t'th'cemetery, and they'd have th'grave already dug. All th'neighbors helped dig it. They'uz a lot a'difference back then. Seemed like people had better feelin's for other people than they do now. Now they don't care if y'set up by yourself all night or not."
This is what I have been talking about this entire time: respect and compassion. Throughout these parts of the chapter it is constantly reiterated that all of these customs have meaning. It was a standard to give beloved members of the community a good send-off.
When reading this chapter I felt a sense of melancholy. It's amazing to see how much people cared about their neighbors way before profiting of the deceased was normalized, but it's a sad reality knowing that people just don't care like they used to.
