No one comes to the front door of the old clapboard house, unless of course they are peddling something, or lost. The gravel drive shoots up a short, steep hill and curves around to the back of the house like a strong arm pulls you in for a hug. Leftover
I have written a little bit about my love for these mountains, about my fond – and not so fond – memories living deep in the holler. The place where I grew up was an offshoot of an area called Demory Hollow. At one point in time, Demory was a
People are often horrified when I explain how much a scene in the movie Deliverance, based on the James Dickey novel, reminds me of my family and fills me with such fond memories. No, not that scene, though I can’t blame anyone when the mind instantly leaps to that part.