Tennessee Mountain Stories

Lotties Legacy Chapter 1

Chapter 1 of Lottie’s Legacy:

“Mama! Maaamaaa!” Delcie cried as she ran toward the crumpled figure lying midway from the garden to the house.  As she continued to move she hollered over her shoulder, “Ruth, come quick!” 

As Delcie reached her mother, she heard the screen door squeak but ignored it, completely focused on the strong woman who guided her whole life.

She fell to her knees at her mother’s head, “Mama, answer me.  Whatever is the matter with you?  Did you fall?”  The questions spilled out so quickly Lottie Ingle could never have answered them, even if she were conscious.

She was not conscious, though.

Finally, Delcie looked toward the house wondering why her older sister had not yet come to help.  Instead of Ruth at the door, she found little Cecil frozen and staring at her mother and sister.  “Sissy, run get Ruth, Mama needs her,” she said as calmly as she could.

Lottie lay with one arm pinned beneath her, the other awkwardly slung behind.  Her legs were folded beneath as though they’d lost all strength to hold her body upright.  Delcie gently turned her mother over and attempted to straighten her body and smooth the long, voluminous skirts she always wore.  She gently smoothed the locks of hair that had strayed from their bun and attempted to wipe the dirt from Lottie’s still face.  It’s warm, Delcie thought, realizing from years on the farm the importance of that fact.

Again, the door squeaked and this time the sound was chased by Ruth’s shrieks.  “Delcie, what’s happened?  Mama, are you okay?  Where’s Daddy? Delcie, answer me!”

Delcie didn’t turn her eyes from her mother’s face as she cradled the still head on her lap, wiping away bits of dirt from the graying strands that had crept into her dark hair in the past few years.  “Ruth, I don’t have any answers.  I just saw her on the ground here.  What do we do?”

Ruth fell at her sister’s side, “We need Daddy.”  Turning her head she screamed, “Mary, Maaareeee, come here Mary!”

Another sister appeared at the corner of the house, panting from her jog from the barn.  “What are you two makin’ all this noise about?”  In that moment, her eyes found them, and she stopped.

“Don’t stand there Mary, run get Daddy,” Ruth commanded.

Delcie’s head jerked upwards, “No!  Go get Aunt Gracie; she’ll know what to do.”

It seemed like hours before their beloved Aunt and local midwife trotted past the split rail fence that held roaming cattle out of the Ingles’ packed-dirt yard.  Gracie took one deep breath, lowered herself down at her niece’s side and took control of the entire situation. 

“Lottie,” she said loudly as she took her sister’s hand in her own.  She gently began tapping Lottie’s wrist and repeated, “Lottie, I need you to wake up.”

After all those minutes without a sound or a movement, Lottie moaned slightly then let her head fall to the side.

Gracie turned the limp head to face her and probed at Lottie’s drooping mouth. Despite the urgency of the situation, her mind registered how much her sister reminded her of their beloved grandmother. Her face was fuller now than when they were younger and tiny lines crept from the corners of her eyes. With each child she had borne, Lottie had retained a few extra pounds. After twelve pregnancies, she mirrored Grandma Elmore’s plump build. Gracie gave her head a little shake to refocus on the urgent situation at hand. Turning to Ruth and Delcie, who sat breathless, she asked, “Was she sick this morning?”

Both girls shook their heads, “She didn’t give a word of complaint,” Ruth offered.

“Mama never complains,” Delcie added.

“You’re right Delcie, but did you notice anything out of the ordinary?” Gracie prodded.

The girls looked at each other in silent consultation.  Finally, Delcie offered, “She was maybe a little later than usual getting out to the garden, and I heard her say something to Daddy that she might send for Aunt Mandie to help with the wash.  She’s stayin’ with Grammy and Pappy, you know.”

Ruth chimed in, “I don’t know why she’d do that; I can manage the wash.  I mean I’m gettin’ married just any day now so I reckon I can run a whole house if I need to.”

Gracie cocked half a grin at her niece’s confidence as she nodded her acceptance of the information.  She tried again to wake her sister, this time patting her face as she called her name.

Finally, Lottie began to moan quietly and reached a hand up to hold her head.  After a few more minutes, as the trio stared, she opened her eyes.

“Mama, you’re alive,” Ruth exclaimed.

“Hush you goose.  Of course she’s alive,” Delcie chided.

Gracie spoke only to Lottie, “Honey, are you okay?  You fell out here in the yard.”

Lottie looked around and moved a hand to feel the hard ground beneath her.  Her words came slowly, almost whispered, “What? What am I doin’… on the ground?”

Gracie smiled again, “I just told you, you fell.  Do you remember it?  Did you trip on something?”

Lottie struggled, trying to sit up, “No… don’t think so.  Well… I don’t know.” After a long pause she whispered, “Can’t remember.”

Her words came out so slowly that they slurred together.

She rolled her eyes to look around again, as though she couldn’t believe she lay on the ground. “Up,” she finally requested.

With each daughter taking an arm Lottie attempted to pull her knee up, but nothing moved. 

“Mama, are you coming?”  Ruth asked.

“I’m trying,” Lottie’s confusion was obvious in her voice. 

Daniel strode into the yard wearing his customary smile.  One look at the girls surrounding his fallen wife dropped his countenance.  He pushed against the paling gate and was at Gracie’s side in two strides.  Without a word, Daniel and Gracie’s eyes met.  From long experience, he knew she would be the voice of reason in an emergency.  When she raised her eyes to him, he immediately understood the severity of Lottie’s condition. 

“Aunt Gracie, can I get her inside?”

Gracie nodded, “We must be very careful.  I think something is happening in her head because she’s not really understanding me, not answerin’ the way she ought to.”

“I need to get some help, I think.  I’ll run down to get Virgil.”

Gracie reached for his sleeve, “Dan’l, don’t go all the way to Virgil’s.  Burton’s home and he’ll come.”

Daniel was nodding his head as he trotted out of the yard toward Gracie’s house. 

He’d scarcely reached the Martha Washington Road when his cousin Martin Ingle hollered to him, “Dan’l! What’s your hurry?”

Daniel tried to take a deep breath, tried to form a sentence but could only manage, “Come, help.”

It was all Martin needed to hear from his cousin; he leapt onto the horse he’d tied by the barn and spun her head around to face Daniel.  With a swift kick, horse and rider bounded toward the dirt road and Martin’s cousin.  The big grey mare couldn’t fully stop before Martin had grabbed Daniel’s arm and hoisted him up behind the saddle.

“Your house?’ Martin asked.

Taking a deep breath, Daniel was able to answer and offer some explanation.  “Yeah, it’s Lottie.  I don’t know much but she’s down and we need to get her into the house.”

The horse was already at a lope when Martin answered with a nod.

It was only seconds before the hooves thundered onto Daniel and Lottie’s farm.  The horse seemed to understand the need and drew up close to the fence. 

Gracie’s head popped up, “Oh Martin, thank you for coming.  Delcie has brought out a big quilt, and I’ve managed to roll her onto it.  Let’s get ahold of it by the corners.  Ruth and Delcie can get two corners to help you.  Mary, honey, you run open that screen door up as wide as you can get it and stand out of the way so we can get your Mama into her bed, okay?”

Everyone moved to their assigned spots and little Mary trotted up the steps and swung the door open with both hands then stood wide-eyed as the group hoisted Lottie up.

“Easy now, I don’t like moving her,” Gracie cautioned.  “There you go, Martin, you’re at the steps, start easing up now.  Ruth, you won’t be able to go in the door at the same time Martin does so give him your corner when you get to that point.  There you go.”

Everyone worked together and in a short time they had Lottie on her bed.    Again, they looked to Aunt Gracie for directions.  She’d learned from many birthings that everyone needed a job and she made assignments accordingly.

“Delcie, you help me get her in her night clothes.  Ruth, why don’t you make her a cup of coffee?  Do you have bread?”

Ruth nodded, “I made bread just this mornin’.  My bread is ever-bit as good as Mama’s.”

Gracie’s weak smile testified of her contempt for Ruth’s need for recognition.  “Why don’t you cut her a slab.  If she can eat, some nourishment would be good for her. The rest of you pray!”

With the room emptied, Gracie turned her full attention to her patient. 

“Delcie, why don’t you get some cool water?  Not cold, see what the temperature is in the stove’s reservoir.  I imagine it’s cooled down from the morning’s fire.”

“Yes ma’am.  I’ll be right back,” Delcie answered as she disappeared out the doorway.

Gracie spoke to her sister, “Lottie, you’ve not said a word, barely moaned with all that wrestling about.  I need you to wake up for me now.  You’re going to have to tell me what’s going on with you.”

Gracie moved about the room, even as she spoke, slipping Lottie’s shoes from her feet and untying her apron.  As she worked to remove the pins holding her sister’s hair in a bun, Lottie began to stir, moving her head from side to side.

As Lottie raised her left hand slowly to her brow, Gracie tried again to question her. “Lottie, are you wakin’ up?  Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Ooooh, oooh, Gracie, is that you?”

“Yes, honey, of course it’s me.  Do you think I’d be anywhere else when we’ve just plucked you out of the yard?”

“What? The yard?”

“Yes, yes, you fell.  Can you remember what happened?”

Lottie gave a single nod of her head then grimaced and answered with such a low voice that Gracie turned her head, trying to catch the sound.  “Yeah, the girls were all lookin’ down on me.”

“That’s when they found you.  Do you remember what caused you to fall?”

“My head hurts.  Oooh my head hurts.”

Gracie leaned in close to look at her eyes.  She placed her hand on her forehead.  Then she took her sister’s right hand and squeezed gently, there was no response.

“Lottie, let’s pray,” Gracie commanded.  “Heavenly Father, please put your healing hand on my dear sister.  Please give me wisdom to see what’s wrong and see what I need to do to help her.  Thank you for leading Delcie to find her and not allowing her to lie out there and make things any worse.  She’s hurting, Lord; please put your healing hand on her and relieve this pain in her head.  We thank you for your love and blessings on us and know that you are here with us right now. In the name of our precious Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.”

Lottie whispered a weak ‘Amen’ but kept her eyes closed.

Delcie soon returned with a basin and towels and the two ladies gently bathed Lottie’s face, hands and arms.  The cool water woke her, just as Gracie hoped it would.

She smiled at her nurses and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before drifting off again.

Gracie pulled the blanket up and motioned to Delcie that they should leave the room.  Ruth was just starting through the door with coffee and bread but Gracie gently turned her around and they all slipped out allowing the curtain to close over the doorway behind them.

The Families of Lottie's Legacy

If you’ve been reading the trilogy of Mararet’s Faith, Gracie’s Babies and now Lottie’s Legacy, you will know that family is a key element throughout the stories. In fact, it is family that links these three women as Margaret is the mother of Gracie and Lottie.

We walk with these ladies as they start and raise families. We see them in all the troubles and trials we face in our own lives. While there were flesh-and-blood women who inspired these books, ultimately the characters are just that – fictional characters. Yet the daily struggles are as true as any history book.

In Gracie’s Babies, we saw Lottie happily married to Daniel Ingle. We even learned of her growing family, and the heartbreak when not all of her pregnancies ended well. Gracie was touched by the faith and love she saw in her sweet little sister and jovial brother-in-law.

As we open Lottie’s Legacy, many years have passed. Those children we met in Gracie’s Babies have grown up and their number has increased. This family is, I believe, typical of most with some children faithfully following their parents’ teaching and others rebelling. Some of the Ingle children are sweet and dear while others are self-absorbed or embittered. Does any of this sound familiar to you, as it does for me?

Lottie Ingle is presented a little later in life than the other protagonists were. She has young children still at home while her oldest children are married with families of their own. While not unheard of today, this was perfectly normal a hundred years ago.

Many of Lottie and Daniel’s children have settled close to home and still frequently return to visit their parents. Family continues to be a high priority for these new families and they manage to gather with their many siblings as well.  

In this book, we see Lottie and Daniel in a vulnerable situation and they truly need support. They find that from their children and grandchildren as well as extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins.  Much of the neighborhood is related and the neighbors show concern and willingness to help as well.

These are elements that I long for in our world today. Our families seem to have spread out across the country – and sometimes overseas.  We are so busy we can hardly answer the phone much less go sit together for a few hours and just spend time together. It is my hope that the time you spend reading Lottie’s Legacy will be like a visit with this dear family. I hope you will call your sister or write a letter to the aunt you treasure but never hear from.

In my family and neighborhood, it seems like we have lost so many members of late. I sound old when I say it, but I drive down the roads and think about the homeplaces that are either now empty or occupied by strangers. Hug the ones you love, take time to sit down with a cup of coffee and an old friend.

Please, enjoy Lottie and Daniel, Delcie, Ova, Ida, Mary and Cecil. I give them to you for an inspiration.

Lottie's Legacy - What's it all about?

I had a great time last Saturday talking to friends, old and new, about Tennessee Mountian Stories, and Lottie’s Legacy. I was asked many times, “What’s it about?” Well, that’s a good question, and I’d love to tell you.

Lottie’s Legacy is a story unlike my other books. It completes a Trilogy with Margaret’s Faith and Gracie’s Babies, following the lives and spiritual walks of a mother and her two daughters. Lottie Berai Ingle is Margaret’s younger daughter, but the book opens later in Lottie’s life. In fact, we immediately learn that Lottie will contend with a life-altering disability.

We talk a lot about physical and emotional disabilities today and that open dialogue has dispelled a lot of myth and stigma. Living with a disability now is vastly different that it was even fifty years ago.  Today, we see men and women in wheelchairs living full and productive lives. People who battle emotional conditions have access to stabilizing and mind-clearing medications. These accomodations are relatively new.

Lottie’s Legacy is set in the 1920’s, some seventy years before the Americans with Disabilities Act would be signed into law. Did you see this article on The Stories last year about wheelchairs? It wasn’t until the 1930’s that they were commercially available and even then, there were no ramps on houses, stores or offices. Even if you could get a wheelchair, you still faced a social-stigma. President Franklin Roosevelt required either a wheelchair or leg braces, which he worked hard to hide from the American voters for fear these devices would cost him the White House.

While I don’t know what it would be like to live with a disability, I can imagine how I might react. I’m afraid I would spend way too much time feeling sorry for myself and focusing on all the stuff I could no longer do. And, that’s what we see Lottie begin doing.

But God…

Is that an amazing conjunction? We fail, but God… We doubt, but God…

Many (if not all) of us have times that we feel worthless. “What can I possibly do for The Lord?” As you read through Lottie’s Legacy, you walk with her through the process of yielding to God’s will and plans. You will see how God can use someone that seems unusable.

Maybe, you will even see how God has been wanting to use you!

Announcing a Complete Trilogy

Well, friends, it’s been a long time since I told you there was a new novel available. I am now thrilled to announce that Lottie’s Legacy is now complete.

In the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing some dates and locations where you can get copies. This weekend, I’ll be at the Homestead Tower’s Apple Festival with hardback copies.

The paperbacks will be along shortly.

Please come back to the blog over the next couple of weeks and I will tell you more about Lottie and the story and her legacy.

Waitin on the Train


I lifted my face to the cool  breeze as it tossed a loose paper across the platform. Heat settled around this place and the scent of coal smoke permeated the air. A whistle sounded in the distance and I began to bounce my knee in anticipation. In the distance, the rumble of steel against steel promised the pending arrival of the iron beast we all awaited.

As the rumble grew louder, a piercing whistle joined in. All eyes unconsciously followed the clamor. It was hard to say what I saw first, the black of the smoke or of the steel. As the engine rolled to a stop, near the platform, the whistle gave way to the persistent ringing of the train’s bell that called everyone to action.  

The conductor swung his upper body from the open door and his voice joined the cacophony of sound. As he called out commands, steps were placed at each car, baggage carts positioned and people rose from their seats, gathering their belongings together. Passengers stepped down, some with bags in hand ending their journey, others scanning the crowd for the peddlers who would supply food, drink or newspapers.  Those peddlers were young boys balancing wooden trays strapped around their necks. As they wove their way through the crowd they began to call out, “Apples, Pears, Ham Sandwiches, Fried pies, Bread and Cheese”.

The tap, tap of a gentleman’s cane drew my eyes. A man in overalls passed with a wooden cart following behind him. Children laughed and ran around a weary woman’s skirts.

Through all of this, the train engine sat hissing lowly, ever reminding us that she was the queen of this place. She was the one that needed to be fed the black coal. The white steam seeped from the boiler hinting that water would be required before miles could be covered.

In no time, the conductor called, “All aboard,” and the crowd started to move as one.  The engine began to breathe out steam and smoke, growing louder with each puff. As the clamor reached a crescendo, billows of soot hung close to the smokestack. Men darted to pull away the steps, doors were slid shut. Everyone settled into seats, some waved as friends bid them farewell.

 

I recently sat on a train platform, closed my eyes and imagined it was 1900 and I was the one waiting on the train.  In my imagination, I was about to embark on a grand expedition. Sadly, my trip lasted only 15 minutes and circled Dollywood’s theme park. But the sounds and smells of the steam engine were absolutely authentic.

The 192 engine Dollywood is operating is the real deal, manufactured in 1943 and originally used in Alaska.  Steam locomotives are monstrous machines that transformed the American landscape, opened up the western half of the country and revolutionized logistics.

We’ve talked here before about how the arrival of the Tennessee Central changed the Cumberland Plateau. Prior to the 1890’s, the vast natural resources of the Highland Rim were virtually locked away from the growing cities of Nashville, Knoxville, Chattanooga and beyond. We’ve also explored how the culture of the mountain people remained unaffected for so long due to our remote location. Once the railroad began running, all of that changed.

I think there is something incredibly romantic about riding the rails. I don’t know if it’s because it’s a glimpse of a bygone era or if it’s because you can sit back and see the country you’re traveling through. I find myself rushing around so much that I miss the world that’s passing by me. Even when I’m driving, the wheels in my head are running away with plans and thoughts of what I need to do when I get where I’m going.  Do you think the folks on those grand expeditions a hundred years ago were able to sit back and enjoy the view from the train window?