My earliest memories of Berwind is during 1947, just after my parents, Sebert and Lucille Toney moved there from Valls Creek, a small community just about 6 miles south of Berwind. We moved into a very large boarding house on what was commonly called "Tank Hill" because of the huge water tank that sat a little further up the hill. The big black tank stood prominently upon the hillside and supplied water to the entire town for many years.

As a youngster growing up in Berwind, I felt that I lived in a town full of people that were more like a family than a group of families. It seemed as though everyone cared about their neighbors and their neighborhood. Maybe that feeling came naturally because most of the people worked for the coal mine and we all had that in common.

During this time period, New River and Pocahontas Coal Company owned the mine. The mine was located in the hill on the south side of the creek that flowed through Berwind on the upper end of town. The coal from the mine was washed at the tipple before it was loaded into the railroad cars. The dirty, filthy polluted water was then returned to the creek to kill off the fish that might be in there. Across the creek from our house was a pump house that was used to pump water from the mines. Sometimes they would turn the pump off for several days then start it back up. The stench from that water was terrible. It smelled a lot like rotten eggs or sulfur water. After a while we would get used to the smell and it didn't bother those of us who lived near it. But for the folks passing through, it was a real jolt to their olfactory senses.

I could stand on our front porch and see the men come and go from the mines. In the `50's when the men got off work, there would be a steady stream of dirty, sooty men trudging up the little dirt road that led from the mine to the main road. It seemed as if they stretched out forever. It sometimes reminded me of ants, how they would follow each other up the hill.

I could hear the siren that sounded each day at noon. It also sounded when a miner had been injured at the mine. There were many incidents, ranging from a miner being crushed, to someone smashing a finger or a foot. Each time the siren would wail for an emergency everyone would pray that it would not be for their loved one, but at the same time their hearts would go out to the injured miner and his family. Seeing a person missing an arm, leg, or any number of fingers was a common sight during those days. I guess safety wasn't high on the list of priorities for the coal company.

As in most "coal camps" the whole town was built and owned by the coal company. They rented the houses to the miners for about $20 a month. They also owned the "Company Store" which was the only store for miles around. In the 1930s up until the `50s there was a company store in each town around the area. Valls Creek, Canebrake, Newhall, and Cucumber all had company stores.

Now that I'm older and have had time to reflect on my life at Berwind, I realize that times were really tough on the folks there and the surrounding communities. I didn't realize it at the time of my youth, probably because I didn't know anything different and hadn't thought about it all that much. I guess that may have been the way that most of the people felt. We were all in about the same fix financially, emotionally and environmentally.

Although times were tough, people came together in times of need and hardships to help one another and tried to make things easier on their neighbors. It seems that people were always sharing produce from their gardens. (Most yards had a garden spot or two in them.) When women were pregnant the others got together and gave her a baby shower. When someone passed away, the whole neighborhood would get together at the "Wake" and bring food and drinks for the bereaved family.

When the neighborhood kids went over to someone's home to play, they were treated just like one of the family and were taken care of. If someone needed a baby-sitter, there was always an ample supply of young girls willing to earn a dollar or two.

Something that was very different then from now, is how hardly anyone locked their doors to their home. I don't remember anyone complaining about a break-in or someone stealing something from a home. I'm sure it must have happened once in a while, but I wasn't aware of it.

One way that the town girls helped their families economically was how they would borrow clothes from one another. I remember my sisters and their friends borrowing everything from neckerchiefs to shoes, from sweaters to skirts and dresses. A conversation might go something like this. "Mary, may I borrow the blue sweater with the butterflies on it?" "Oh", Mary would say, "that was borrowed from Jean and I let Brenda borrow it last night. But may I borrow Gail's yellow blouse that you wore last week?"

I don't know how they ever kept up with what belonged to whom or if it ever got back to the original owner.

During the summer, the choir from the African-American Church would gather at a home on Tank Hill behind us. They would start singing along with a piano and a tambourine. The sounds would carry on the summer breezes to my bedroom and I would lie there and listen to some of the best Gospel singing I've ever heard. Although it was quite loud, it was at the same time very soothing and reassuring. After a while, I would fall asleep with the feeling that all was well with the world.

As youngsters growing up in Berwind, we all had to walk wherever we were going. We didn't have access to a car until we got our driver's license, usually at the age of 16. Even then, it was like pulling teeth trying to get the car keys from our dads' hands.

If we were lucky enough to have a bicycle, then things were a little easier. Of course, there was quite a bit of upkeep on the bikes. We had to have the latest in headlights and taillights, reflectors, and horns and bells. Riding up and down the hillsides sure made your leg muscles strong, but it played havoc on the brakes and sprocket chains. Not to mention the tires.

The coal trains also made things tough on people in Berwind. Especially on wash days. If a steam locomotive came chugging by while the clothes were hung on the line to dry, the cinders that were sent up and out of its smokestack found their way to the clothes. On white things such as sheets, pillowcases, T-shirts and shorts, the black soot showed up real well and they would have to be washed again. Also, if the cinders happened to be particularly hot when they hit the clothes, there would be small pinhole size holes in them.

Of course, coal dust was everywhere. When you walked down the road, the dust would be blown in your face and on your clothes as the cars passed. It was next to impossible to stay "cleaned up" for any length of time. It’s a wonder that we all didn't get "Black Lung" just by living there.

But the train situation wasn't all bad. I got used to the late night coal train that came through almost every night. I found that I had a hard time getting to sleep until that train came by. Usually, it was about 100-150 cars long. I would fall asleep listening to the soothing sound of the clickity-clack as the wheels ran over the cracks where the rails were spliced together. Sometimes a car would have a flat spot on a wheel. It could be heard for quite a distance. First faintly, then getting louder as it neared the house. Then growing fainter as it headed on down the tracks and out of town. In those days it was comforting and soothing. Today, it would probably just be a nuisance to me.

  TRADING COMIC BOOKS, BASEBALL CARDS, AND SCHOOL BOOKS

During the `50s there was a lot of good "funny books" (comic books) printed every month. Seems as though all the kids had their own personal stack of them. All of the popular cowboys of the day had a comic book written about them. As well as everything from Donald Duck to The Ghoul. We read them all. We would gather up the ones we had read and go house to house trading them with our friends.

The cost of the regular comic book was 10 cents. For the larger volume, we paid 25 cents. We traded one for one of the regular size and sometimes we could get 3 regulars for one of the larger volumes.

A lot of the guys would save and swap baseball cards. We got them from packages of bubble gum. It only cost a penny for the gum and the card. The card had a color picture of the ball player on the front with his signature. On the back were all of his statistics. In those days it was mostly young boys who collected and saved them. It wasn't for money (as it is today) but just for the love of a game where the players were heroes. My brother, Bart, had a couple of shoeboxes full of the cards. He knew all the players, who they played for, their batting averages, etc. He let a friend keep them for a while and the friend's house burned along with a collection of baseball cards that could very well be worth thousands of dollars today.

At the beginning of the school year we would get a list of the text books that we would need to have for that year. There was always a mad scramble trying to locate the books. Sometimes we could trade books that another family would need for some that they might have that we needed. After a few years, the books became battered, tattered, and worn. But you could sure learn a lot from them. Maybe not what the school board or the teacher wanted you to learn but what was written in the margins and front and back pages. You learned who loved who, who hated which boy or girl or teacher. Some of the girls blotted their lipstick on the pages. I'll have to admit some of the lip prints looked pretty kissable to me.

The bank was a large, rock building and stood across the roadway from the Doctor's office at the lower end of town. During the `40's and `50's it was a very busy place. During that time there was thousands of men working day and night at the mine at Berwind and the other mines around the area. They weren't paid a lot of money in those days but they managed to get by and some even managed to save a little now and then.

In front of and behind the bank was the park area. It had turnstiles at both ends for pedestrians to travel from the Company store to the Doctor's office side. Around the entire complex which covered about two acres was a fence about 3½ feet high made of 4" x 4" lumber for a top rail and a 2" x 6" mid-rail. Since the top rail was set up in a diamond shape it was very hard to sit on. After years and years of people sitting and whittling on it, one could find a somewhat comfortable spot to sit for a while.

I remember "Peg" Branson used to sit in the same spot on the fence for many years. He was called "Peg" because he had lost one of his legs above the knee and he had a wooden peg leg.

When I got to an age when I could stay out a little past dark, I started playing "kick the can", "red rover" and "capture the flag "with the other guys at the park. I’m sure we made a lot of noise at those times, but not once did any of the people who lived in that area call for us to be quiet or threaten us in any way.

In those days, we had never heard of drugs like marijuana, cocaine, etc. Some of the guys smoked cigarettes or chewed tobacco and a couple drank beer, but that was all. The foul language that is heard everywhere now a day was not used by us when we played there. So all in all we had a pretty good time with each other just playing games and passing the time waiting to get out of that "nowhere town".

The Doctor's office was a large white building situated at the bend in the creek on the lower end of town about 1/8 mile from the school. The building was a combination home and office for the Doctor who was an employee of the coal company. When we went to see the doctor we had to enter through a door on the left front side of the house. It led into a waiting area that had a red tiled floor and a very high ceiling. I remember it being very chilly in there but I'm sure that it wasn't air-conditioned. The only doctor I remember being there was Dr. Emory E. Lovas. He probably delivered 90% of the babies born at Berwind and surrounding communities during the `40's and early `50's. He was the attending physician at my birth on 16 March 1943. He always seemed to have a cigar in his mouth.

Since Dad was an employee of the Coal Company and a member of the United Mine Workers of America, he had benefits, which included hospitalization and doctor's visits. He had a benefits card which he referred to as his "welfare card" and all we had to do was show it to the nurse and she'd take the information from it and our shots, broken bones, baby deliveries, etc. were all taken care of. In those days, the Doctor also made house calls. I remember him coming to our house for at least three of my younger brothers' births.

By Sebert Toney, Jr.

A very sad day of my youth was the day my brother, Dranan, lost the sight of his right eye. It started off just as any other day. The neighborhood kids had gathered for a day of play at our house.

They had gathered a bunch of `stick weeds' to use as arrows in their game of "Cowboys and Indians". The weeds grew all around the area. They would grow dense, straight, and tall during the summer then lose their leaves in the fall leaving a pretty good shaft to use as arrows. Caps from soda bottles were bent over one end as an arrowhead leaving a very sharp point on the stick.

Dranan had his `hide-out' in our bathhouse. He was hiding behind the stove when another brother, Charles, came in looking for him. Dranan peeped from behind the stove just as Charles let fly an arrow from his bow. The arrow struck Dranan straight in the eye, blinding him instantly.

Doctors at Richlands Clinic tried all they could to save Dranan's sight but to no avail. Eventually he lost sight in his left eye also. Mom and Dad clutched at all straws, hoping to find something to help him regain his sight but as the months turned to years, Dranan's vision kept deteriorating. He was taken to eye specialists at Bluefield, WV and Johnson City, TN as well as Richlands, VA. but none could prevent the inevitable.

Dranan was in the first grade at Berwind when the accident occurred. He lost a couple of years education during the time he was undergoing treatment. He finally started going to school at the West Virginia School for the Deaf and Blind at Romney, WV. He graduated from there in 1970.

If anything good ever came from this incident, it would be that from that day on there was never another `bow and arrow' made by the kids there. Possibly saving another child and family the heartache and tears of watching a loved one suffer the loss of sight-or worse.

SETTLING AND LIVING IN BERWIND

I want to reminisce a little about my mom and dad, John and Elizabeth Gall. The came from Hungary about 1912. They settled in Perth Amboy, New Jersey where John, Jr., Alex, and I were born. My dad decided to move on to Toledo, Ohio where I started kindergarten. All I remember about that school is the big door that I could hardly open. Also, the pretty drawings we pasted on the windows in the classroom.

Then, at an invitation by a friend, my dad decided to try the coal mines. He moved us to Lynch, Kentucky where Steve and Helen were born. Then in 1926 we came to Berwind. He was satisfied and stayed. I really think Dad was looking for home because Mom told me they had lived in the hills in Hungary but they weren’t as high as the Berwind hills. Mom had a beautiful singing voice, she sang some ballads of her country.

I had a lot of fun growing up on Tank Hill with the Bransons. Madge was my best buddy. We went to Hazel Elswick’s parties at her house. Madge and I always danced—we enjoyed that more than playing "post office" and "spinning the bottle"—Really!! We knew all the big band songs. John, my brother, tells this story about Madge and me. We were in the porch swing singing "Darling I am growing old, silver threads among the gold" and we would snicker and giggle. Madge and I would wrap up in a blanket on a chilly day and sing a lot of the oldie songs—"Once in a While", "Please", "You were meant for Me", "Tiptoe through the Tulips", "Just One more Chance"—just to name a few. Nina Gravely and Louise Bailey would remember these songs.

I will always remember my Irish and English friends—the O’Hanlons and the Clarks. We went on picnics with them to Burkes Garden. Molly O’Hanlon taught us to dance the "Highland Fling". Madge, Keena Dell’Orso, and I enjoyed them very much.

My goodness, where have the years gone—all these good memories are coming back to me!

I remember the PTA dances that Steve and I had for the kids at the gym. What fun we had with them!—Tommy Branson, Lester and Leslie Beavers, Jack Null, Carmelita Gillespie, Nancy Davis, Mary Seward, Velma Price, and many, many more. Ed Johnson came with his good recordings. I will always remember Harry Glenn, he was always there with us.

We pitched horseshoes in the alley behind my house. Bea and Fred Wyatt were always so good to us. We had a lot of fun at their house. Bea said she would get up in the morning after the party and she would not have anything to put in Fred’s lunch to take to work. All the food was gone. Sorry about that, Bea! You can put the blame on Tommy Branson, Mary Sue and the others!!

I want to tell you about Steve, my husband. His mom and dad settled in New Jersey the same year as my mom and dad. They lived in Passaic, NJ, which was not anywhere near Perth Amboy. Steve and I met here in Berwind. How about that!

I remember Steve working with the engineers—Mr. Boisture, Mr. Bailey, Robert Branson, Luther Lawson, Jim Wade, Jim Kulchar, and Lewis Staten. He really liked his work and being with these men. One time they were working up in the woods and they decided to build a fire and have some good hot coffee. When they left, they didn’t put the fire out completely so they had to pay a fine. That was an expensive cup of coffee!

I remember Mr. Kinzer. I was walking to the store one day and Mr. Kinzer was sitting on his porch having his coffee. I asked him if he was having his breakfast. He said, "Esther, have you ever had coffee soup?" I said, "No." He said, "This is coffee with a biscuit in it." I said, "Mr. Kinzer, I guess I have coffee soup every morning too. Only difference is I put bread in mine." I sure didn’t know I was having coffee soup. But it was good.

I enjoyed working with Bud Walker and Jewell Linkous at the post office. Also with Joe Murinsky in English (WV). Good memories!

I do have a lot of good memories of Berwind. Sure had some good friends and enjoyed being with them.

  FRIED FISH, ICE CREAM AND A COOKIE: AIN’T A BAD SNACK

At most she was maybe four feet, nine inches tall, she spoke with a decided Hungarian accent, she always had a twinkle in her eye and her voice smiled when she spoke!!!! As a child, a pat on the shoulder from her was better than being Knighted by the Queen of England. As an adult, a hug from her was better than a hug would have been from the whole Gabor family—when Zsa Zsa and Ava were in their prime. If you knew her, just the mention of her name automatically evoked such adjectives as; kind, considerate, caring and loving, to mention a few. If you ever needed a second mother, you could not have made a better choice if you had picked her! To those who didn’t know her, she may have appeared to have a short stocky body. And if you thought she could’ve had a weight problem it was because you didn’t know her. Believe me, what might have been perceived to be extra weight was simply a body not tall enough to handle the large heart that she had. Her love and concern for her family and friends was unmatched. She truly had as big a heart as anyone could have ever had. I really believe Mrs. Gall was as well qualified to become a Saint as any woman the Catholic Church, her church, has ever bestowed that honor on. Did I like her? "Just a little." Was she my friend? "You bet your life!!!!!!!"

Mr. and Mrs. Gall immigrated to the United States from Hungary in 1912. After a long and arduous boat trip that lasted a month, they finally arrived at New York’s Ellis Island where they completed the process of becoming American citizens. I’ve tried to imagine how difficult this would’ve been for a young couple, in their mid twenties to do and I must admit that I don’t have the slightest clue! Try to picture yourself in their position and it would almost seem like an impossible task. Anew country, a new language, strange customs, no job and on and on and on. It would have scared me to death. As tough as it all must have been, never once did the Galls ever question or waver on their decision to come to America. Someone once asked Mrs. Gall if she would ever like to go back to Hungary for a visit. Without a moment’s hesitation she responded, "I’ll go back when they build a bridge across the Atlantic Ocean so you can drive over there. I don’t want to fly and I remember the long boat ride too well."

I’m told that Mr. Gall had a brother living in Perth Amboy, NJ and Mr. and Mrs. Gall went there to live. Here they started their new life, in a new country where they started a new family. I found out that the three oldest Gall children were all born in New Jersey and not in Berwind as most of us had thought. We also learned that Mr. and Mrs. Gall were not real happy living in New Jersey, so close to New York City. They came to America from a small rural town in Hungary named Resck that is situated in the mountains and is located in the county of Heves Megye. After about 5 or six years they decide to move to Lynch, KY where they had some friends that realized that they were unhappy living in New Jersey. While Lynch proved to be much more to their liking, they still were not completely satisfied. Through their friends they heard of Berwind and they wanted to take a look at this coal mining town over in southern West Virginia. Once they got to Berwind they found it to be so similar to their home in Resck, Hungary they decided that Berwind was the place to make their home. The mountains, the coal mines and the small town was exactly what they were looking for. And like they say, "The rest is history."

I’ll always remember, as a kid growing up, what a special treat it was to go see Mrs. Gall and it was a little better in the summertime when she would be working in her garden. If you never saw her garden, you won’t understand what I’m talking about. She always had the neatest garden anyone could ever have. To me it looked like she had taken a broom and swept the ground between the rows of vegetables that she had planted. In fact, her whole yard seemed to be like that. I always thought that it would be neat to play in her yard—you would never get dirty!! Even her dirt was not dirty.

Another reason I enjoyed visiting Mrs. Gall was that she cooked a lot and her kitchen was the best smelling place you can ever imagine. Her kitchen smelled like a kitchen ought to smell!!! To those of you in your mid fifties or older I’m sure you will remember how good the Kern’s Bakery in Bluefield smelled when you passed by and smelled the bread baking. Well. Mrs. Gall’s house smelled better than the bakery. I’m not sure what heaven will look like, but I’m sure it will smell just like Mrs. Gall’s kitchen.

Anytime we went back to Berwind for a visit, we always made a point to visit Mrs. Gall. Not only us, but other members of my family did the same. Let me relate an incident that happened to my brother, Edward and his three children on one of their visits to Mrs. Gall’s. Her house was always immaculate, very neat, and a home that you would feel uncomfortable letting your youngsters have too much freedom. For fear that they might break something. Edward’s oldest daughter was about eight and his twins, a boy and a girl, were about five at the time of this visit. Edward, a good father, was making sure that the children did not misbehave and was constantly telling them to not do this or don’t do that. Of course, Mrs. Gall was on Edward, telling him to leave the children alone and let them enjoy themselves. At one point during the visit Edward scolded one of the children and Mrs. Gall, all four feet nine inches of her and in her broken English said, "Shut up, Ed….Ward." (It rhymed with yard and Edward sounded like two names.) Of course she said it with an infectious grin and Edward and the children knew she was kidding. But the children thought that it was great to see this little woman almost two feet shorter than their dad taking up for them and telling him to "shut up Ed….Ward." To this day, twenty-five years later, they still remember Mrs. Gall and talk of this incident.

One thing you had to do when you went for one of these visits was you had to eat something. There was no getting out of it. She insisted that you eat and you always ate something. It may not be more than a couple of cookies or some small snack, but you ate something!!!!!! It was one of these visits that my wife and I stopped to see Mrs. Gall. Her son John had just returned from a fishing trip and she was frying some of the fish. Of course, Mrs. Gall said we should eat something and we did….a fried fish, a dish of ice cream, and a cookie!!!! You know what….it tasted pretty darn good too!!

Mrs. Gall was one of the most jovial people I’ve ever known and despite all the hardships that she endured, not once did I ever see her when she wasn’t more concerned about your problems than her own. All of the problems involved when they first came to America, the great depression, losing both Mr. Gall and her son, Alex in World War II, makes one wonder how she and her family were ever able to cope with it. Knowing all this now, I’m sure you also feel like Mrs. Gall truly was a Saint!!!

Mrs. Gall passed away in 1972 at age 86, and like so many other women of her generation in Berwind, it was hard to give her up! But I saw a quote the other day by Virginia Taylor, and I think about it a lot as I reminisce about Berwind and think of Mrs. Gall and the others. It makes it easier for me to accept these great loses when they do occur. The quote is—"Now that she is dead, she greets Christ with a nod."

In the late ‘40s when all the men returned home after the war, things were really booming in the coalfields. All the mines around Berwind were working full blast. At least two and sometimes three shifts a day. There was a lot of overtime being worked and occasionally tempers would flare. If it looked like a disagreement might turn into a fight between two people, the other workers would get involved and generally cooler heads would prevail and the parties involved would usually cool off and forget all about the disagreement.

On this occasion, Calvin Waldron and Arthur Boyd were having a problem over something and were about to get into a fight. Some of the other men tried to get it straightened out but both Calvin and Arthur were still wanting to "get it on". Someone suggested that rather than having a fight at work and possibly losing their jobs why not have a boxing match. This was agreeable to both of them so they decided to have a boxing match a week or so later down at the croquet lot in the playground.

As word spread of the fight, we kids put up posters advertising the fight and all the particulars. Each fighter needed a nickname so we called Arthur, "Killer Boyd" and Calvin became "Steamboat Waldron". We tacked up posters all over town and I can still see them today. The posters read, "Killer Boyd vs Steamboat Waldron—Friday Night 10:30 PM—Playground Croquet Lot—Free Admission". (The free admission was well received.) If you remember, the Croquet Lot had lights and since both "Killer" and "Steamboat" worked the second shift, this necessitated the 10:30PM start time.

A ring was marked off on the Croquet Lot and John Gall was selected as the referee for the big event. The rules were gone over with each boxer and nothing was left to chance. Let the fight begin.

Now, Calvin was a pretty good boxer, so all the big money was being bet on him—milk shakes, triple dip ice cream cones, and an occasional quarter or fifty cents for the more affluent, This was big time stuff and it just don’t get any better than this.

When "Steamboat" and "Killer" made their appearance, the crowd went wild. The whole town was there. Nobody wanted to miss this. "Steamboat" had on a new pair of boxer’s shoes, boxing trunks, a nice robe (with a towel around his neck), a stool in his corner to sit on, and water to rinse his mouth out between rounds—he was sharp!!

Now, "Killer" had on combat boots, blue jeans rolled up to the top of his boots, a plaid flannel shirt with a white undershirt. "Killer" was not what you would call a snappy dresser.

When the ref called the fighters to the center of the ring, "Steamboat" removed his robe and towel from around his neck. He was cool. "Killer" rolled his blue jeans up one more roll and took of his flannel shirt and he was ready to fight—combat boots, rolled up pants and the white undershirt. The fight was to be ten rounds. The fighters went back to their corners—"Steamboat" sat on his stool and rinsed out his mouth. "Killer" sat on something—I guess.

The bell rang for the first round and "Steamboat" was going to town. He could easily out box "Killer". My coke bet was looking better by the minute. They fought for about three rounds and "Steamboat" had won every round. "Killer" would duck his head and take wild swings—never touching "Steamboat". I could just taste that coke that I was going to win.

Then a funny thing happened, "Steamboat" got careless and "Killer" hit him. My man "Steamboat" shot up in the air and when he came down, his nose and his toes hit the ground at the same time. Dr. Lovas was at the fight and tried to revive "Steamboat". But smelling salts wouldn’t do the trick. Three or four men carried him over to the doctor’s office where Dr. Lovas got him revived—there went my nickel coke—dang it. A lot of found out that night that it doesn’t pay to gamble—the night that the lights went out for "Steamboat" in Berwind.

When I was about 14 years old, Dad bought the little two room building that Mr. and Mrs. Withers had used as a small general store in the `40's and early `50's. It was located across the railroad tracks by the white bridge at the upper end of town between the mainline track and the sidetracks. Dad had held a license to operate a store in Berwind for several years and had sold some bread, pop, cakes and candy from our house on the hill to try and make ends meet. So when he got the chance to buy the little building, we moved our counter, pop machines, etc. in and opened for business. I would work there after school and on weekends. It didn't take long for me to become somewhat pudgy since I had all the sodas, cakes and candy I wanted.

One day a train engineer came in and we started talking about trains and how I wanted to ride one but never had the chance. He invited me to join them on the "shifter" while they shifted the railroad coal cars around on the lower tracks. I locked the doors and climbed up into that huge steam locomotive with them.

The first thing the train fireman told me was about the time he got his foot caught between the tender and the locomotive sections. There's a juncture that runs the width of the engine and as the train passes over the rails a side to side motion is created at this joint and when his foot went underneath the upper part, the sawing action cut his foot off 2-3" behind his toes. We "shifted" cars for an hour or so and then it was time for me to get back to the store. I really enjoyed my one and only train ride.

By Sebert Toney, Jr.

We used to have a grapevine swing up the `holler' towards the Berwind fire tower. There was a couple of old graveyards there and the land was a little flatter and had less trees and briars than the surrounding areas. So that's where we would play.

There was a little stream that ran down the hollow and we would dam it up with small logs, sticks, stones, and sod. We had a swimming hole about 3 feet deep. The grapevine swing was in a big tree that grew on the edge of the bank of the stream. We would grab the vine, get as long a run as we could, and ride the swing out over the swimming hole. When we let go, we'd drop about 15-20 feet down to the water. We had a lot of fun there, mainly because our parents didn't know what we were doing. Otherwise, they would have put a stop to the swinging and the swimming hole.

When I was about 15 or 16 years old (1958-59), my sister's husband, Eugene Burks was the spotter for the Berwind Fire Tower. There was a log cabin for them to live in during fire season. Sometimes, after school and weekends, I'd go up there to visit. I loved the walk up there. Sometimes I could cover the 2½ or 3 miles in 45 minutes; other times it might take 1½ or 2 hours. During the spring, there were all the new leaves budding out on the trees and flowers that needed to be inspected. The proud pheasant mamas with their new brood of chicks to be watched. Squirrels, chipmunks, and crows would announce my arrival to all the other woodland creatures.

There was a lot of shale rocks on the roadside. I would stop and dig around in several of these areas looking for fossils. I've found fossils of small fish, bugs and birds. All of which were very interesting to me.

By Sebert Toney, Jr.

One night about midnight during the summer of 1958, a cousin Wandley Toney and I were walking along the road in Canebrake toward Berwind. (We were about 15 years old at this time) As we were rounding the sharp turn just below the Canebrake Baptist Church a black 1951 Chevy sedan heading in the opposite direction was speeding toward us. As it passed, we heard laughter and giggles coming inside the car. Then it screeched to a stop, backed up, and a tall red-haired man about 21-22 years old got out of the right hand rear door. He came around the back of the car and stumbled up to Wandley and I. We could still hear the giggles and talking coming from the car. "Red" asked us where we had been and where we were going. We told him we had been visiting friends in Hartwell and Canebrake and were on our way home to Berwind. He had a bottle of beer in his right hand and asked if we'd like to have the beer. We declined his offer saying that we did not drink. He said "Go ahead and drink it or I'll just pour it out." I told him to go ahead and pour it out. So he did-all over the two of us! Then he climbed back into the back seat of the car and they were gone as quickly as they had appeared. "Red" had made a big hit with his friends for there was more giggles and laughter from the car. Wandley and I were really surprised at the turn of events. "Red" had seemed so friendly and then had turned out so mean and ugly.

We wondered what Mom and Dad would say when they smelled the beer on our clothes. I don't think my story would have convinced them at all! But nothing was ever brought up about it.

I had never seen "Red" before this night and have not seen him since (that I know of). But I can still remember his looks and think that I would recognize him even now if I saw him.

The winters during my youth were some of the most care free and fun filled days of my life. I realize now that the snow and ice were hazards for the people who had to get out for whatever reason. But for us kids, it meant a day of riding sleds, shovels or just skating on whatever ice we could find. There were snowballs to be made and thrown at each other. Snow angels, once created, could last for days. At school, we could make a huge circle in the snow and play a tag-like game around that circle.

I don't remember the creek ever freezing over enough to skate on, but the ruts in some of the alley ways usually held enough water that would freeze and afford us a "skating rink" of several feet, but you had to beware of that small rock or glob of frozen mud that stuck up above the ice line. That could "put the skids" to your skid.

Of course every winter day was not a day of play. We still had to do our chores, which meant chopping and stacking wood, carrying coal to the kitchen porch, and sweeping and cleaning the "bath house". The bathhouse was a building in our yard that was about 40' X 20'. Miners would come there for a shower and change of clothes after a hard day at the mine. It was the responsibility of us boys to take turns cleaning and keeping the fire going for warmth and hot water in the shower room.

Since we cooked and heated water with a wood and coal burning stove, we had to carry wood and coal every day, so this wasn't just a wintertime chore.

In the 50's, we sometimes got our wood from the sawmill at Rift. It was the bark sides that had been cut off a log in order to square up the log, then cut into 12-14" lengths. We'd have a couple of pickup truck loads at a time to chop. After it was chopped into kindling we'd stack it under the house until it was needed.

I remember one day when we got a load of wood and my uncle, Lonnie Nelson, and Jack Lyons were showing off how they could split the knottiest blocks of wood. We would point out a certain block that had knots in it for them to split. One time Jack was acting like he couldn't find the block that Mom had asked him to split. He would hit each block with the ax and ask "this one?" "No." "This one?" "No." Then Uncle Lonnie put his foot on a block and said "This one!" At the same time Jack brought the ax down on the same block, cutting a large gash across the top of Lonnie's foot. That game came to a halt real quick.

We would get our sleds out when it snowed and go to the very top road of Tank Hill and ride down as far as we could go. Turning down the alleyway between our fence and the Catholic Church and sometimes going all the way to the railroad tracks. We'd have that roadway so slick that no cars could travel it. Then out would come the ashes over our sled paths. We'd just get some snow and put over the ashes and keep going as long as we could.

We'd also go to the top of New Town Hill and ride down as far as we could, but I didn't have as much fun there as I did my senior year of high school. That was the year I took my future wife, Sadie Asbury, up there. We had about 15-20 boys and girls there that night and we burned some old car tires to keep warm. The girls would ride on the backs of the guys down the hill. Somehow the walks back up to the fire didn't seem as long and tiring as they had on previous years.

When I was about 16 or 17 years old I sometimes would stay out until around midnight sitting and talking with the guys. Mom and Dad didn't like me staying out that late and told me so on several occasions. Being a typical teenager, I paid them no mind.

They started locking the door at about 10 PM when they went to bed. And I had no key. During this time my sister, Lorene and her husband, Gene, were staying with us and slept in a downstairs bedroom with a window that faced the front porch.

When I stayed out late, I'd just try the door and if it was locked, I'd go peck on the window and Gene would open the door for me. This went on for a couple of months and I thought I had a foolproof system.

One evening I went out for my nightly adventures and spent the time with my friends. About midnight I climbed the stairs to the porch, tried the door and found it locked. No problem. I went to the window and pecked ever so softly. No response. I pecked again. No response. I rapped a little harder. Still no answer. I rapped and whispered "Rene, open the door!" No one answered. Unbeknownst to me, Rene and Gene had gone to spend the night at his parents' home.

I went around the house hoping to find the kitchen door unlocked. No such luck! Now I was stuck outside with no way of getting in the house without waking Mom and Dad. I certainly didn't want to do that and have to listen to the old routine about getting in and getting to bed at a decent hour.

The bathhouse was located just off the kitchen porch so I went in there to figure out what I was going to do. I sat on a bench and thought about climbing to the roof of the bathhouse and hopping over to the roof of the kitchen porch. From there I could just open the window to my bedroom and no one would ever know what time I came in. But I didn't think that I could jump the 5 or 6 feet required to clear the gap.

The longer I sat there, the later it got, and the dilemma was getting no closer to a solution. There simply was no way into the house. After a while I admitted that fact and surveyed my surroundings inside the bathhouse. There was a fire in the stove for hot water. So it was warm in there. There was the bench; about 8 feet long and 12 inches wide. The miners' dirty, smelly clothes were hanging on all the walls. Their muddy boots were all around the perimeter of the room.

I figured if I was going to get any sleep this morning, then it would have to be in this place. I gathered some newspaper, spread them over the length of the bench, found a clean dry towel to use for a pillow and settled down (as best I could) on that narrow bench and fell asleep.

About 5 AM Dad got up to get ready for work and found me on the bench. So even after I put myself through the night of restless sleep, I still had to listen to his spiel about staying out all hours of the night. After this experience I began getting home a little earlier and checking with Rene and Gene to see where they would be.

The school at Berwind was located at the north edge of town on a little knoll. Below, the creek made a wide bend around the playground/ball field. It was "my school" from the day I started the first grade in August 1949 until I graduated from the ninth grade in May 1958. My teacher for the first grade was Mrs. Merrill (I loved that woman and think most of my classmates did likewise). She had the patience of Job with all of us, teaching us the proverbial three R's, Reading, `riting and `rithmetic.

The first and second grades were situated in a little white building separated from the main part of the school. It was a small two-story building with the bottom part built like a basement in the side of the hill. In the basement was a bathroom each for girls and boys and the school band room. I remember the band would play each day as we ate lunch since we got to eat about 30 minutes earlier than they did.

From the first grade room, I could sit and watch from the windows as the Jr. high students "changed classes" when the school bell rang. I could hardly wait to get to that point in my education so I wouldn't have to sit in one room all day.

Each year the school would have a Christmas play and I was in every one of them, up to my sixth grade. I played roles from a reindeer to a wise man. Every year, Mr. McCoy, the principal would show the film "Twas The Night Before Christmas" and at the end of the program he would lead us through the refrain of "Jingle Bells".

Also each year the school sponsored a Halloween Carnival. There were thrills and prizes galore and everyone seemed to have a great time.

About 1954 the Canebrake Elementary school burned and the students from there were brought to Berwind, crowding the classrooms with "outsiders". I wasn't too happy with it, but after a while we all made some long lasting friendships.

In the spring of 1956, after a winter of heavy snowfall and springtime rains, the Dry Fork rose and overflowed it's banks, since the school's playground was situated on the bend of the creek, it soon became a torrent of brown muddy water flooding the classrooms on the lower levels.

Our athletic program consisted of basketball, football, and track. I participated in track about three years, running the 220 and the 440-yard dash. I was third string fullback when I was in the seventh grade and didn't see any action in that capacity. In the Eighth grade I was the "Gofer" or water boy for the basketball team (It got me into all the games free and I got to travel to faraway and exotic places such as Ieager, Bartley and Welch).

My brother Bartley played basketball for Berwind and Big Creek. He lettered at both schools. One time when Berwind was playing Bartley Jr. High School, Calvin Buchanan was sitting in the bleachers on the Berwind side. He started yelling, "Come on Bartley!" People turned and gave him the old evil eye. So then he added, "Bartley Toney, that is!"

In 1958, when I was in the ninth grade, the main school building burned to the ground, sparing the gymnasium and cafeteria areas. They partitioned off the gym into four classrooms and I finished my last school year at Berwind graduating to Big Creek High.

By Sebert Toney, Jr.

We got our first television set about 1958. It was a black and white (of course), approximately 21-inch screen. We would sit around it in the dark and watch all the game shows, Jungle Adventure series, and newscasters such as Huntley, Brinkley and Walter Cronkite. Weekdays, we could watch the Pinky Lee Show, Howdy Doody and Snoop and Scoop.

Snoop and Scoop were a couple of Channel Six television personalities from Bluefield that had a show called Circle 6 Theater. They would dress as cowboys and carry on with all sorts of foolish banter to entertain us kids. Then they would show movies starring all of our favorite cowboy stars. Jim Wakely, Eddie Dean, Tom Mix, Lash LaRue, Johnny Mac Brown and others.

During that time the best television picture we could receive was not all that great. Everyone that had a TV had their own antenna mounted on their roof or up a tree in their yard.

Dad, Elza Burks and Earl Buchanan decided to put some antennae on top of the mountain behind Tank Hill. They bought about 5 miles of TV line and several amplifier boosters to try and keep a good strong signal down the hill and into our TV sets. The wire in those days was 2 strands of bare copper wire separated by 2 inch wide plastic insulators.

They scouted around and tried several different locations on the hilltop. Finally, they settled on a place that once was the Kassay Place. They put up about 4 or 5 antennae, each pointed at a different signal to pull in stations from Huntington, Charleston, Beckley and Bristol/Johnson City, TN. It wasn't long until most of the folks up on Tank Hill were hooked up to the world via our television line. Sometimes when the lightning would hit the line a booster would go out or the unprotected wire line would break under a snowfall. Then the time consuming job of finding and repairing the damage was underway. Most of the time, the folks understood when the signal was lost due to unforeseen circumstances. Sometimes they weren't so forgiving, especially when Saturday Night Wrestling from Oak Hill was about to be missed because the line was down.

Since there were 10 children in our family (8 boys and 2 girls) and each of us had our own circle of friends; it got pretty crowded at our house at times. I've seen times when there were 4 or 5 extra kids at our dinner and breakfast table. Mom and Dad never seemed to mind when we had friends stay overnight. With that many kids of their own they probably never noticed. We would get everyone together and choose up sides for a "yard ball" game. Our ball was made of wadded newspaper wrapped with the black cloth tape that Dad got at the mines. It traveled pretty well and if it wasn't packed too tightly, it wasn't too hard to catch barehanded. Our bat would be anything from a fence palling to a hand hewn 1" x 4" oak board cut down at the handle. Mom and Dad would sit up on the porch and look down at our game. (The porch was about 12 feet above the yard). As we all took our turns at bat and in the field, everything would go O.K. until someone hit an exceptionally long ball or it went down the hill to the railroad, Then an argument might break out concerning foul ball. So the "umpire" and "referee" on the porch would have to settle it, usually by calling the game off.

We would also play horseshoes along the side of our house. With real horseshoes. Some of them worn quite thin. I was never any good at pitching them. Seems like I always lost. Even today, my scores are always low when the game is over. Mom used to be able to pitch a pretty good game so I tried to get on her team.

Our yard was large enough on the side of the house for us to have a pretty decent football game when we got about 10-15 guys together. And as with the baseball game, everything would go O.K. as long as the ball stayed on the playing field and no one had to chase it over the hill. We would usually play for an hour or two then call it off.

Growing up in Berwind, we were pretty much stuck with the people who were living there. But, looking back, I haven't had any better friends than I did at Berwind. The kids I got along with were my friends all during my youth. The ones I found hard to be around were not included in my activities. Sure, there were some that shared mutual friends and we tried to get along as best we could.

All of my life, I have taken to fisticuffs only once. That was when I was about 16 years old. I was working in our little grocery store when Jimmy Cook, a black guy about my age came in and started mouthing off about something. (I don't remember what got him started.) When I asked him to leave, he said something to the effect of "Make me!" So I did. There were only a few punches thrown and then I threw him out the door. A couple of times. I'm not bragging about this little scrap; just wanted to point out the fact that most of us kids got along pretty well. I'm not saying that all was rosy and bright with all of us all of the time. But when we did have a problem with one another, it didn't come to a fight to settle it.

Now, there was an ongoing hate-hate relationship with a black guy by the name of Bobby Mason. He and I were about the same age and just could not get along. Today, I'm sorry for that age of mutual misunderstanding and disrespect on both our parts. I've heard that he became a policeman in Ohio and was killed in the line of duty. I'm not just sorry that he's dead, but also for the fact that we could have been friends if I had tried harder.

Some of my best friends were Richard Altizer, Roger Smallwood, Douglas Dale, Douglas Deel, Ronnie Honaker, Leon Dishman, Tommy Sparks, and Lewis Wade. These are the ones that I ran around with most often. We enjoyed each other's company playing ball, tag, kick the can, and other neighborhood games and spent quite a lot of time in each others' homes. We helped one another with school homework and home chores. I considered us to be the best of friends.

We are now scattered out so far and wide that I don't even know where most of them are. The one I see most often is Tommy Sparks because he still lives in Berwind and I go back about once a year. I haven't seen most of the others for over 30 years. Not too good for best of friends.

Lake Berwind is actually more in the War, WV area than Berwind. But anyway, it is a bigger pond than we had anywhere near there before. I think it was completed sometime around 1957-58. A couple of times a week, during fishing season, Lewis Wade, Jr. and I would walk up there after school and fish for a couple of hours. It was so peaceful and quiet back then. There weren’t a lot of vehicles traveling that road.

In June 1964, about 3 days after our second child, Craig was born. Sadie had been staying at Mom and Dad's home before having the baby. I had come home on leave from Charleston AFB, SC. My brothers, Tom and Charles asked if I'd like to go fishing with them. Now, this was around 10 PM when they asked me to go. So I said "yes" and we took off up to the lake. But not before they had a little fun at my expense. They knew that I had NEVER been able to catch a night crawler. I was just too slow. We each got a flashlight and a bucket and started around Mom's house looking for the elusive worms. I was walking around looking intently to the ground, trying my best to come up with some fish bait because all the while I was being ribbed about not being able to catch a crawler. After a while I finally found and caught one. Then another. Then another. I was on a roll! I would see one and grab it before it could get away. I was really excited about my newfound skill. Then I heard the muffled giggles behind me. Tom and Charles were having loads of fun. They were taking worms from their cans and tossing them in front of me so I would find them.

So we got up to the lake around midnight and fished from the bank for a little while. Then one of us found an old wooden flat-bottomed boat in some weeds. We dipped the water out of it and cleaned it up enough to get our gear and us into it and set off to the center of the lake. A little while later we noticed that we had a couple of inches of water in the boat with us. We started bailing water out in a hurry. From then on we kept an eye on it so we wouldn't sink and kept on fishing.

Sometime around 4 AM I hooked something. At first I thought my hook had caught on one of the many submerged trees. But as I kept reeling, I found that whatever was on the end of my line was alive and was getting nearer the boat. I finally got it to the side of the boat and Charles netted it. This was the biggest catfish I had ever seen. I didn't weigh or measure it, but I suppose it weighed about 6-7 pounds and was about 18-20 inches long. So, after the ribbing I had taken earlier, it was my turn to do some ribbing.

Having graduated from Big Creek High School in 1937, the only transportation I owned and could operate was a bicycle. I had a friend, Fred Williams, a postmaster in Princeton, WV. He had a franchise in that town on motorcycles, and in his dealership, he was very influential in persuading me to go for more faster and comfortable riding. He and his wife taught me to operate such a vehicle on the Athens Road. I loved it so well; I ended up buying a new Harley-Davidson cycle for $450.00. Of course I would need a permit to operate such a vehicle on the highways.

Tests were being given by a detachment of State Troopers in Berwind on a certain day of each month. I was there on my cycle. I noticed the candidates for Operating Cards in the state of West Virginia had to show their ability to drive their vehicles properly and safely. A Trooper would seat himself in the automobile, right beside of the prospect, to see if he or she was capable. It came my turn. Trooper Dyer questioned me on the laws and rules. I passed with flying colors. He said, "Mr. Maupin will now give you the remaining test." I went to my cycle, started it up with a roar. The cycle had a large buddy-saddle. I said "Hop on Mr. Maupin!" He answered, "You get up the road on that d-m thing, if you get back, I'll give you a permit!" So I made my first permit to operate a vehicle on the highways on a motorcycle.

In the year of 1942, the whole earth was feeling the effects of World War II. Industries were booming, demands were heavy, all available manpower was being used. The coalfields were no exception. Coal was then called "the backbone of all the industries." Miners worked hard, long hours and under trying conditions to do their share in leading this nation to victory.

There were coalmines in Berwind operated by New River and Pocahontas Coal Company, whose headquarters were in Philadelphia, Pa. These mines had been in operation for many years, with millions of tons of coal having been extracted, much of it sent to foreign markets. More coal was needed to be mined by this company. They had the reserves, but in order to mine such it was necessary to go deep. Many hundreds of feet down, through tunnels driven in solid rock. The vein which averaged 6 ½ feet in height was heavily gaseous, methane (ch4), highly flammable and capable of exploding.

As headings, airways, and rooms were being developed, it was found that a mine ventilating fan located at Vallscreek, WV, producing 150,000 cubic feet of air per minute (cfpm) was inadequate to dilute and render harmless the gas which was being liberated in this particular area and seam. (It was rated the third "hottest" coalmine in the state of West Virginia at the time.) It was decided to place a second fan to this mine in Berwind, which was four miles by road from the Vallscreek fan. I was placed in charge of the maintenance crews as new ventilation was being restored. It was necessary at this time to disconnect the old mechanical fan, and to rely on 9,000 cfpm on a natural current.

I had been schooled on this type of work, having the highest certificates available in competency by either the state of Virginia or West Virginia. Our General Manager, Pete Kerr, knew the danger involved. He had said, "Keither, if ever you think that any danger in the mine gets out of hand, don't be afraid to withdraw your men." I saw that day as we were restoring sufficient air for ventilation. 9,000 cfpm on a natural current was insufficient to carry the tremendous amount of methane being liberated. It later filled all the mine tunnels for miles. It was terrifying. One small ignition could leave this an inferno, a fiery hell. I had withdrawn all men. That night I guarded a highway as billions of cubic feet of methane diluted itself to the atmosphere.

I can remember the Company Store and remember all the good friends I had in Berwind when I lived there. I remember going places with my Dad, Grover Fraley. I remember the grade school and all the nice teachers I had there. I can remember going to the Company Store and drinking pop and eating ice cream and talking to everyone.

In their young days, my husband, Bernard, and Clarence Asbury were good friends. Well, they always remained friends. When people began leaving Berwind, they just lost touch. Seems Bernard and Clarence had been "partying" one Saturday night. Some gal's house in Berwind. The topic of food came up. (Remember, in the 30's there was no quick-service eating places.) They told the guys if they could come up with something to eat they would cook it. It was about midnight and they were high as a kite.

Clarence got this bright idea. His dad, Uncle Tommy to us, had chickens, so if Bernard would go with him, he'd steal a chicken. Bernard said he really didn't want to steal the chicken but after hearing how it could be done and nobody would ever know it but them, he agreed to go with Clarence.

Sure enough the chicken house was located away from the house. Slipping as quietly as they could, they sneaked into the yard and up to the chicken house. When they opened the door, all heck broke loose. Roosters started crowing and hens carrying on like there was no tomorrow. (There wasn't for one hen.) Bernard said Clarence grabbed the first hen he could get his hands on and started out of the side yard. They had chicken and dumplings on their minds!

About that time Uncle Tommy let it be known that he was in the vicinity. He kept calling Clarence's name, no answer from him or the chicken. He'd already choked the hen to death and headed out of the yard. A lot faster than they had sneaked in, I might say. Uncle Tommy kept saying, "Clarence, I know that's you". No answer.

Bernard remembered that Clarence never did admit to his dad about stealing that chicken. Although Clarence didn't utter a word, Uncle Tommy felt sure it was him. As far as Bernard ever knew, Clarence never did admit to the job. Bernard said he was afraid Uncle Tommy would shoot them, but he was convinced by Clarence it wouldn't happen. Even after all the years went by and Bernard would relate this incident, he always said, "We should not have done that."

My children and grandchildren hear many stories in my family regarding growing up in Berwind through the 1920s-'30s-'40s and `50s.

The James Kinzer family was the first white settlers in the original Ritter Lumber Camp. My father, Millard ("Rabbit") Gravely, came there as a young man to work with this company. Later the New River and Pocahontas Coal Co. operated the coal mining industry owned by the Berwind Corporation.

Our family, like most families in Berwind, was large. Though raising a large family was not easy for most, we had many opportunities made available for children as they grew up.

As a child, I recall my mother making her home available for piano teachers to teach several children and in turn for teaching all her daughters at no cost as they grew up. This meant special lunch and evening meals for the teachers. Our home became the gathering place for Saturday night "Sing-alongs" and later, teenagers gathered for "Jitterbugging" to the tunes of the "Hit Parade". As teens, there were parties and fun. Mother always preparing the refreshments and won the hearts of many. My sisters and I were always provoked because all the guys paid more attention to Mom than they did us.

I am especially grateful to my favorite Aunt Nina Troutman and her daughter, Georgia. They will be remembered for running the store company's Club House and later years, the Coal Company Club House. Georgia will be remembered as a third grade teacher in the school system and later employed at the Coal Company office. They both saw to it that I had dancing instruction from available teachers who came there to teach. They are a great part of our heritage and gave much to the Berwind community.

I suppose that a majority of the children of our times were all nurtured in the Berwind Union Church and many married there. I recall a Reverend Wysor who influenced many. However, he made a point to observe situations in the community. He observed my best friend, Anna Mae Nelson, and I sitting on the playground fence wearing shorts. The following Sunday, his Morning Service emphasized the need for covering the body and it was sinful to be seen in public in shorts!! (I wonder what the dear man would say about the `90s attire.)

Though only a small coal camp, the Coal Company, I feel, gave us our greatest needs. A playground which drew all the children for daily activities. I recall the high school age boys playing football there. The Bolash, Kinzer, Waldron, Gall, Linkous, and Branson boys come to mind. Then the evenings are remembered for "Hide and seek" and other games for all ages. In later years we don't forget those competitive games of croquet with the fathers participating. Boisture, Rankin, Gravely, Thompson, Mangus, Dr. Lovas, Merrill, and Seward.

I would say that good ole NR&P Stores was a good training center for most young people of working age. Mr. J. E. Faucette was the General Manager during my time. Underneath that stern, strictly business personality was a man who cared about the young in Berwind. I do not know, by name, the many he helped through college. I did not go to college, but the experience I gained from working at the store was useful throughout my life, especially in handling the general public. During earlier years it was "scrip" drawings and later, "scrip books" at the store office. Jim Merrill was office manager and put up with a lot from the girls working for him. Most who were going through their "courting" stages.

(Editor's Note: For the youngsters who don't remember, or who haven't heard of it, the "scrip" mentioned above was credit from the company and drawn on a company employee's future earnings. It was spent only at the Company Store.)

As children, we really don't recall the hardships our parents had because we enjoyed growing up in Berwind. My family didn't have an automobile until 1940-but neighbors saw to it that they were there when in need of transportation.

I have special memories of:

• Hearing Paul Kirk's beautiful whistling at night as he went to work.
• My Grandmother Gravely holding my hand and taking me to the Company Store for a treat.
• Going to Tazewell with Hester Kinzer and Dad to pick apples (I fell out of the tree).
• Velma Price who shared her friendship with all my sisters and others.
• Clyde Waldron the only one that my parents would trust to accompany our "Teen-gang" on bicycles for a trip to the movies in War on Sunday afternoons.
• The "Amateur Hour" talent competition at our own "Picture Show" (they called it) and the Saturday Matinee "Flash Gordon" and "Hopalong Cassidy" movies.
• The 3-M Club (Mighty Merry Makers-organized by "Peg" and Marguerite Branson in the `40s) who staged a "Gay-Nineties Revue" with Berwind talent. It was so successful that we performed in other towns.
• The after-school gatherings at the NR&P Drug Store-and later gatherings on Saturday Nights.
• The Sunday baseball games.
• MYF at the Church on Sunday Night.
• Neighbors assisting during emergencies and in time of need.
• Dr. Cecil and Dr. Lovas who brought the children into this world at home locations.
• My Dad escorting his teen-age daughters to the Policeman's Ball at War.
• Robert F. McCoy, principal at Berwind School, who's determination organized the first Berwind School band-complete with uniforms!
• The yearly gymnastics and stunt shows for the public at the school.
• Friday night football games at Big Creek.
• Herman Davis, who held the community together following the close of the Coal Company and gave of his time to the Berwind Union Church.
• The floods that Berwind experienced through the years, when people worked together, survived, and pushed forward.
• Earlier years, when Halloween was a child's challenge-taking the NR&P Delivery wagon and putting it on the porch of the dormitory at the school!! And pulling up Dr. Lovas' corn stalks and piling them in front of his door! (Who did this? -It wasn't ME!!)

Berwind folks were simple, working people and though we, as children, didn't have choices of elaborate activities, we enjoyed that which we had. Many of my generation are retired and have been successful in many professions. This reflects from caring people.

My earliest memories of Berwind are of helping in my Granddad's (J.O. Bird) and Dad's garden, helping Mother and Grandma prepare the harvest for processing, feeding our hogs, gathering kindling, carrying coal, and assisting in the butchering of the hogs after they were grown.

My favorite chore was walking to the company store for Mother. I enjoyed seeing all the old men sitting around the storefront joking and talking. The counter-people were friendly, especially Mr. Childress at the meat counter. Sometimes I had a little money for candy, or a soda, float, shake, or a cone at the drug store.

As I got older and more mischievous, I joined in the raiding of Don Williams' and Bill Wade's cherry trees and grapevines when they didn't appear to be home. I only slowed down after sampling unripe persimmons at Williams'. The Kaiser's sunflower seeds were good also, but their dogs guarded the fence pretty good.

The Briquette Camp was pretty close-knit for all that lived there. The men enjoyed team horseshoe pitching on warm evenings before dark in the alley in front of Bill Wade's house. Their skill and friendship kept us youngsters entertained and we often borrowed the shoes to play before they got home from work.

We played softball in the garage area across from the planing mill bridge, and tackle football in the alley. When they tore down the warehouse next to the Assembly of God, we played football there when the Church didn't outlaw it for services or grass damage. We also liked to watch the trains go by from the back porch.

The biggest thrill of my childhood was being able to watch the Miner's League games at our roomy, well-equipped stadium on what is now the Berwind Jr. High playground. Our team always gave it's all for the home crowd despite it's standings. The refreshments were also good.

Before we got the family car, an occasional bus ride to War for treats and the movies was very enjoyable. Then, later, to Cucumber for the drive-in movies was great.

The only part of elementary school I liked was the walking to it; recess, lunch, and walking back. But Mrs. Nahodil, Miss Mullins, and Mrs. McKinley brightened those days somewhat with their patience and kindness.

Meeting new peers from other towns, class change, and watching sports and participating in physical education made Jr High more interesting and my grades improved. We got to go on field trips to Big Creek High. I was fortunate to qualify for the Golden Horseshoe Competition in State Government and got a trip and tour of Welch where we tested to go to Charleston.

After on and off baseball leagues and scout training, my favorite pastimes were hiking and camping up all the hollers until the Berwind Lake was open and then that was usually our destination. We also hitched to Bartley for the swimming pool, and to War for the Big Creek games and the movies.

When television became affordable to more people, the Briquette Plant TV Co-op was formed and proceeded to construct a tower up on a ridge near the Adkins farm to provide reception from East Tennessee, Western Virginia, and Northwestern West Virginia, as Bluefield and Oak Hill could only then be received. After the cable was connected to all Briquette Plant houses that desired it, subscribers were hooked on throughout Berwind. The men maintained the right-of-way until their workload was too much. They hired my brother Kellis, Glen "Babe" McNew, and me to fight the snakes, slippery slopes, insects, wasps, bees, briars, heat, and brush to clear the right-of-way. Blistered, tired, and sore, after five long days, we reached the tower.

Mining, coal processing, and delivery were very dangerous occupations and many accidents that maimed and killed our men happened in Berwind and the surrounding towns. But the men and women supported each other like one big family during these, and the floods, snowstorms, and forest fires that often threatened.

I was witness to some prejudices, but I don't think anyone held deep hatred, just ignorance of other faiths and cultures, and a conformity to the popular sentiment of the period.

Now that I am older, and I hope wiser, have traveled the world, gotten a college education, and received the grace to believe in the Holy Trinity, I wish to ask forgiveness of those I have hurt, offended, or ignored. I wish all Berwinders, past and present well, and part of my soul will always live there.

I came to Berwind, WV in April 1937 after taking a position with New River and Pocahontas Stores. As I passed by the operating complex, the Lab., the power house, the prep. plant, the Briquette Plant, shop and storehouse, I began to think as one who surely would have a rendezvous with destiny. As I passed the beautiful Berwind Club House, turned by the office building and post office and company store-I now had made a wise choice and would have a position for a long time into the future. This was not to be-the company closed after some 25 years after I was hired.

Well, I went into the Company Store and met Mr. Earl Hodges (Store Manager). Lee Wade took me over to Mrs. Troutman's who kept us for bed and room. We took our meals at Pocahontas Club near the Doctor's Office. While I am thinking of some of the characters that took their meals at the Pocahontas Club, I think of the following; Tracy Church, John Ponton, Jess Redyard, Richard Noyes, Willard Noyes, Tommy Thompson, Milton Seward, Ralph Canterbury, and last but not least was Dr. Cecil. I am sure there were many others I cannot recollect. Mrs. Aswell, mother of Sarah Seward (wife of Milton Seward) ran the club. She had a black girl as a helper. We called her "Little Bit". We use to have a lot of fun with her. We would hide our dessert under the table on a vacant chair and tell "Little Bit" we were not served our dessert. She would look around, see none on the table and get confused and serve again, saying she was sure she put it on the table.

I think my most memorable person was Dr. Cecil. If ever there was a Doctor that could typify on a television series "Gunsmoke" as "Doc" (Wilbur Stone) he could have played the part. Grumpy at times, which was normal for him as he was out many nights on child birth cases. He was cranky at times and jolly at times when talking politics, especially Senator Barkley of Kentucky. Doc was a flashy dresser with plaid jackets and pants to suit jackets. He was off to Cincinnati or Florida in that 1937 Imperial Chrysler on vacation when he could get away. He issued pills about 6 evenings a week.

I was hurrying to get out of the store at closing time one evening to go on a date when a customer came in and wanted some stove pipe. When reaching in the shelf I cut my hand pretty bad so I go over to see Doc. He said "What in Hell is matter with you? Have you been in a cutting scrape?" He put alcohol on it and went for needle and thread. When I saw the needle, I passed out. He threw a pitcher of cold water on me and I came to. He said "Damit, what's wrong with you?"

I was told that Doc, when a young man, would pick bullets out of the Hatfields and McCoys. Whichever of the clan got off the first shot. I am not sure if this is true. He delivered one of my children, Ralph Jr.

Well, when I remember events, one memorable event of Berwind will remain with me forever. The Sunday Night of October 30, 1938, when I took as my bride and dear wife, Evelyn Bird. After Church services-officiated by Reverend J.M. Wysor with a full Church of well-wishers. October 30, 1993 we will be married 55 years.

(Editor's note: Congratulations! And we all hope you have 55 more years of wedded bliss.)

In the early days people who worked for a coal company were dependent upon the company store for their daily needs in life, as well as after death. They owed their souls to the company store, as Ernie Ford used to sing in "Sixteen Tons".

New River & Pocahontas Store at Berwind carried caskets for sale upstairs in the furniture department. After they were there for a long time, and just taking up space that was needed for more furniture, we moved them out to the store barn. There were three sizes, Baby, Young, and Adult. After a while they were marked off the inventory and the store manager told us to destroy them.

The truck drivers and myself wanted the pine lumber from the boxes that the caskets were in. We took the caskets out of the boxes and split the lumber among us. We carried the caskets to the banks of the Dry Fork Creek to burn them. Three of us were on each side like pall bearers. As we walked along, we sang from some of the old hymns, "The Unclouded Day" "Shall We Gather By The River". Well, by that time, traffic began to slow down on both sides of that little one lane bridge across the river, and finally stopping. A few pedestrians came by and gawked. We had to do something quick to break up the stalled traffic. We broke up the dummy funeral, set fire to the caskets, and everything returned to normal. We explained what we were doing. They smiled and drove on their way. At least we were shown some respect.

A very colorful character was Herman "Alabama" Davis. We called him "Bama". He was in charge of the Water Plant and the Laboratory. He and his wife now reside in Bristol, VA. "Bama" was very witty and full of humor. He came down the steps of the Berwind Office one day in the payroll line with a large sack of coal samples on his back. When he reached the bottom step, he said to me, "I wish this company would quit paying me off like this. It's about to get my back out of whack!"

He loved to repeat tales from his native Alabama. Here is one I have never forgotten. It went something like this. It seems a young man was hired as a cement stacker at a plant in Alabama. One day the stack fell over and killed him. Two of the old men uncovered him and he was mashed flat as a flitter. One said to the other, "I can't go down there and tell his wife what happened." The other one said, "Neither can I." Another young boy came by and looked the situation over and said he would handle it. He would break the news to the widow gently. He said, "Put him on that board and put that wagon sheet over him and tote him down to the house and I'll run ahead of you and tell her. I'll break the news to her gently."

So he ran ahead and knocked on the door and stood back like people do when they wait for the door to open. He knocked twice more and finally a young woman opened the door. She looked around and said, "What you banging on my door for and what do you want?" He says, "Does the Widow Macklefresh live here?" She replied, I am Mrs. Macklefresh, and I ain't no widow. I was just married last Saturday. My man, he works down at the cement plant." He said, "He sure don't anymore, you just wait till we pull back this sheet!"

"Bama" would pastor the Methodist Church at Berwind during the times before they would have a regular pastor. He never attended a seminary to study Theology, but preached from the heart. He was a relief pastor in McDowell County as well as around Bristol.

By Sebert Toney, Jr.

The story of the Gall family’s immigration from Hungary to America reminded me of all the other "first generation" Americans that lived in Berwind.

They came from all parts of the world to America and the "melting pot" welcomed them all. Some came with hardly more than the clothes on their backs. They were willing to leave the place of their birth for the chance of something better, not knowing what lay ahead for them.

They came for various reasons; to escape poverty, religious and political persecution. Some came for love and adventure. Each heeded the call of Lady Liberty through the words of Emma Lazarus, "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door."

Some immigrants had family members already here that would provide a place to live, a job with security and stability. Others would have to fend for themselves as best they could.

Ellis Island, the famous immigration processing station in New York harbor, had allowed over 16 million to clear through its doors between the years 1892 and 1954. At it’s peak in 1907, about 900,000 came through Ellis Island. More than 100 million people living today can trace their roots back to someone who came through Ellis Island.

Before the hopeful citizens could walk through the "Golden Door", they had to pass a series of tests to ensure they were physically, mentally, morally, and legally fit to enter the country. Immigrants spent 3-5 hours being processed. During peak periods as many as 5,000 persons a day could be checked, questioned and sent on their way. Some were detained for additional test. Still others were sent back to their homeland

The Statue of Liberty National Monument is located in New York Harbor, New York on 58 acres. A giant statue of 'Liberty Enlightening the World', located on Liberty Island has become a symbol of freedom to oppressed people everywhere. The statue was a gift from the people of France to the people of the United States commemorating the alliance of the two nations during the American Revolution. The American Museum of Immigration is located in its base. The monument also contains Ellis Island.

As I look back on my childhood, my memories nearly always start at the big house on Tank Hill that we called home from the late ‘40s to the early ‘60s. From there my mind drifts to the memorable events that happened elsewhere. As I allow my mind to linger at that time in my life, I see my family, which consisted of my parents, Sebert and Lucille, my seven brothers and two sisters. Lorene was the oldest, then came Thomas, Sarita, myself, Bartley, Lester, Charles, Dranan, Hank, and our youngest brother, Hansford, whom we always called "Tedge".

I see us as a typical Berwind family. That is, our dad worked long, hard hours in the coal mine there. We did most of our shopping at the company store; we attended Berwind schools, and churches. We never had enough money for frivolous spending but we usually seemed to have just enough for essentials. Our house, which was drafty in the wintertime, seemed to be warm enough for us to survive.

Since Dad spent so much time in the mines, it fell to Mom to provide comfort when we would hurt ourselves. Also, it was she that would provide the discipline when needed. (Believe me, with ten children, there was always some need for discipline.)

Mom was raised in Valls Creek in very strict surroundings. She learned the meaning of hard work at a very early age. As a little girl she was taught to wash dishes while standing on a makeshift platform so she could reach the sink. Since there was no running water to the house, she had to carry drinking and cooking water from a spring. Water for laundry came from the small creek that ran in front of their house.

She helped with the cooking, and made beds. She washed and ironed the clothes of her family and the boarders that stayed at her parents’ home. During the springtime, she helped plow, seed, and water the garden that would provide their vegetables for the coming year. During the summer she would help hoe the weeds from the garden as well as her other chores. She would travel the roadways in Valls Creek along with her siblings, and pick strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries to can for future use.

As the crops ripened in the fields, she would help pick the corn, beans, carrots, and all the other vegetables. Some would be eaten right away, but there were many jars of canned goods put away for leaner times. In the fall, when the sugar cane was ready, she would participate in one of her least desirable chores—the making of molasses. She said she did not care for that task at all.

Since Mom quit school in the third grade to help out more at home and with her siblings, she didn’t have much formal education. But what she lacked in "book learning" she made up for in common sense and learned from the lessons of life.

Mom and Dad married when she was 18 years old. Eventually they would have the ten children mentioned above, most being born at about two-year intervals. With these ten children Mom still found the time to cook, sew, wash and iron, as well as dozens of other chores required in keeping a household running. She would put out a huge wash every Monday of every week. These clothes were hung on four clotheslines that stretched the length of our yard. (About 75-80 feet each) She also had clotheslines strung along the porches. I’ve seen times when we had clothes hanging in the house to dry. Rooms full! When dry, each shirt, each pair of blue jeans, each sheet and pillowcase, and even tee shirts and undershorts were meticulously ironed. We didn’t have a lot of new clothes, but the ones we had were clean and in good repair. (At least, when we left the house.)

Mom never held a job outside the home until her children were grown. Her one and only job was at the Berwind Jr. High cafeteria. She enjoyed the interaction with the teachers and students as well as her fellow workers, Blanche Houdashell, Pearl Hardin, and Minnie Stanley.

Most of the younger set would form up at the old Movie House near the Barber Shop. (The Post Office was moved from the Main Office to the Barber Shop building a few years ago.) They only showed silent movies, but we were glad to see anything in those days. The only annoying thing was after the lights were turned off; the rats would come out for peanuts and popcorn that was dropped on the floor. You can understand how your girlfriend, with her feet out of her slippers, would react to a situation like that. Very few of us had a car in those days. If we could get to War, WV. it was possible to see a "Talkie" at the Grand Theater.

Most of us went to parties in the neighborhood and had a good time. Life was simple. It had to be simple in those times. No one at the mines was getting a full week's work. But somehow we made it and lived to tell about it.

I remember the old theater that my husband, Millard Gravely, used to own. He asked me if I would play the player piano. I did and that's when we met. He was 17 and I was 16.

Before the mines opened up, W.M. Ritter Company had a saw mill in Berwind where my husband used to work. Then the mines opened up and he started working there. Later, he went on to work in the Supply House and worked there until he retired.

I remember working at the school kitchen. I baked cakes at my home for people and did curtains. I remember the Ladies' Aid Meetings at my house. I belonged to Eastern Star that Mrs. Gibson (who is now gone) and I helped start. I remember going around helping people who were sick and needed help.

I lived in Berwind for 26 years. My husband worked 42 years in the mine at Berwind. His name was Lon Honaker. We had really good neighbors there. Everyone was real nice and kind. I don't visit very often; everyone I knew has either left there or died and new one's have moved in.

I remember Berwind as it used to be years ago. I remember the Little School House where I used to attend the first and second grade. Mrs. Marie Stafford was my first grade teacher and Mrs. Ruth Nahodil was my second grade teacher. I remember the Berwind Jr High where I attended. Mr. Robert McCoy was the principal.

I remember Hardin's Grocery, owned by Homer and Pearl Hardin. Both of who are now deceased. I remember the NR&P Company Store up the alley from us and the toy department that was upstairs off from the offices.

I remember the big NR&P Coal Company offices and the post office in the same building. And the theater where we used to go Saturday afternoons to see the Western movies. Our Methodist Church where I attended often. We lived across from the Berwind Bank where Mr. Thompson, Rosalie Rorrer Johnson, Anna Fugaty, and Mr. Milton Seward used to work.

I remember the big playground where we used to play softball. There was a Croquet Court lit up at night where the men played croquet. We used to ride our bikes up and down the alley by the light from the court.

I remember the good neighbors we had; Kinzers, Harmons, Nelsons, and Pauline Waldron. I remember going up to visit Mrs. Rorrer and Rosalie. What nice, Christian people they were. We had a lot of good friends that are either deceased or moved away. I remember going down to Mrs. Price's and Velma and visiting with them on the creek bank when they used to live across from Ester Sebastin. I remember going around visiting and talking with my friends and neighbors; Ester Sebastin, Blanche Houdashell, and Pearl Hardin.

I remember the floods and the snows that we had. The pretty Club House with the tennis court there. The Christmases in Berwind when we used to go caroling with the Young People of the Church. When Edna and I were little we used to take our doll buggies and go over and visit Mrs. Nina Troutman and Grandma Gravely (Sis) and Georgia Troutman.

I remember the good times when Nina would come home and our family; Pat, Nina, Daddy, Mary and I would gather around the piano and sing on Saturday nights. I remember the old wash house we used to play in. Edith and Louise Troutman used to love that wash house.

I came into this world October 6, 1917 in a little three room house by the Catholic Church in Berwind. My parents, Ernest and Ella McCall Lyons and a 5 year old brother, Ralph, welcomed me. We lived there for two more years and then we all welcomed my sister, Mary. Then we moved out to just above the railroad station. At that time there were no four room houses in the "bottom" and no "briquette houses". There were stacks of lumber and a pond with logs floating to the saw mill. We played there a lot and got in trouble with our Mom for climbing the lumber piles. We played with Louise Bailey a lot. I loved to go there. They had a player piano (we had an organ) and we loved to play the rolls. Mrs. Bailey's house smelled so good of Ivory soap.

Well, time passed on by. The years of the `20s were real good. We went to school all week. Sunday mornings we went to Church and Sunday School. We'd come home to dinner and sometimes the preacher would come with us for dinner. Then as we got a little older, we went to the movies on Saturday afternoon. Later on we were allowed to ride the train to War to go to the movies. We would come back on the last train. There was a turntable down by Hardin's Store where the train turned then backed up to the station. We thought that was great!

Then in the last part of the `20s and early `30s things got tough. We didn't have much money but we made our fun. On weekends, we went from home to home and had a party. Mrs. Herndon would have us there on Saturday and we would have a great time. Mrs. Kassay lived on the mountain from us. We would go up there but she wouldn't let up come back with the boys. We had to stay until daylight then go home. At one of these parties was where I met the boy I would marry. I was 15 years old but my Dad wouldn't let me date so we continued to go to the parties and wiener roasts and carnivals at Rift and the overflowing well. We had lots of fun.

I finished the 9th grade at Berwind, went on to Big Creek and had good times. "Dottie" Branson and I were chubby girls and we giggled all the time. Mr. Foster, the butcher at Berwind Store, told us if we didn't quit giggling all the time, we would be so fat we couldn't come through the door. So you can imagine what that did for us!

I graduated from Big Creek in `36 and worked in the Company Store awhile. Then one Saturday in December 1937 Othar and I were married and we lived in Amonate. In June 1939 my son was born the only grandson my Dad had. And was he proud! But Dad passed away on July 20, 1939 of a heart attack. We visited Berwind quite often. My Mom, sister and brother lived on there until 1943 then they moved to Delaware. But I still visited at Berwind until most of the ones I visited either died or left. It makes me so sad to go there now, but I loved the place. There was never a greater place to be from than dear old Berwind, WV. I love everyone from Berwind and wish I could see everyone I knew from the time I was a child until now.

Living in the second house on the hill above the depot, I could watch the passenger train as it passed by twice a day running from Ieager to Cedar Bluff. I remember riding it to Cedar Bluff and back one day across the high trestles. Riding the train to War and returning home on the bus. The passenger train also carried the mail.

After walking to school for nine years, it was quite a thrill to get to ride the school bus to Big Creek High School.

As I was walking home from school one day they were tearing down the theater where I had seen a famous country music star, Uncle Dave Macon. Frankenstein had also visited there in person. But I didn't go see him...too scary. My husband, Ellis, said he went and people were jumping over seats and running to get out of there. The school even let us go see a movie one afternoon.

Church activities, school plays, programs, carnivals, ball games, etc. were the social life. The town had a playground in the middle of town with a merry-go-round, see-saws, etc. in front of the bank.

While I was working at the bank, the Coal Company paid their employees in cash, which was shipped by mail from Federal Reserve Bank. We used $2.00 bills same as $1.00 and $5.00. The payroll was huge at vacation pay time.

The Doctor's Office carried all the necessary medication. If someone was too sick to go to the office, house calls were made.

The Company Store had everything anyone needed, appliances, clothes, groceries, meats, a drug store, which made milkshakes, sandwiches, pop, and candy. Toyland was upstairs where all children went after school around the first part of December.

Scrip in various denominations of coins was used for purchases at the Company Store. Later scrip books were issued in $2.00, $5.00, $10.00, and $25.00 each half month. Each purchase was listed on the pages of the book showing how much was spent and how much was left. My job in the Scrip Office was to re-add the figures to make sure the clerks had rung up the correct amounts.

I worked in the Bank until June 30, 1960 when it was closed. We left Berwind shortly thereafter.

I was in the third grade when we moved to Berwind (Miss Georgia Troutman's class). Went through the ninth grade, then on to Big Creek. Graduating with many that I saw at the reunion this year. After graduation I went to work in the N.R.& P. Coal Company Store. You have not lived without a round at a "Coal Company Store"!

Since I lost my husband of forty-four years (Berl Buchanan) in March 1992, the memory I have of meeting him in Berwind stands out at this moment. Lalie Beni, a long time friend, (who passed away several years ago) asked me if I had seen Gene Buchanan's brother that was supposed to start to work at the store. I had not.

Then one morning as I rushed into work, about to be late as usual, I saw Mr. Gibson ("The Boss"), Gene Buchanan, and a strange guy, in the back of the store talking. A thought ran through my mind - this must be the guy Lalie was talking about, so I turned to take a better look, and he was looking at me!!!! We often laughed about us being like it says in the song "I was looking back to see if she was looking back to see if I was looking back to see if she was looking back at me".

Some months later we began dating. Then on April 10, 1948 we were married in the Berwind Methodist Church.

By that time Berl had been transferred to the Hartwell store as Market Manager, then later as Store Manager - so that ended my days living at Berwind. We lived in Hartwell (Valls Creek) until 1961 when we moved to Florida. This was after Pocahontas Fuel Company bought New River and Pocahontas Coal Company and Stores.

It was a wonderful life, but my world ended when Berl died suddenly from a stroke on March 21, 1992. He had been retired 5 years from work. I thank God for the time we had together, and for the many memories of our days in Berwind and Valls Creek.

It was great seeing so many people connected with those memories at the Berwind Reunion in May 1993.

The love and closeness of family and friends are my most fond memories of Berwind. The many hours we shared as a family around our piano singing and friends gathering in to join us. The big meals my Mother cooked and having all the family around the table at one time to eat together. The card games of Canasta or Bridge that always brought neighbors in.

Christmas in Berwind was always so special to me. The beauty of all the doors being decorated with real pine and out-door colored lights. The Christmas tree so large it would touch the ceiling with "bubble lights" glowing and breakable colored balls. Packages so full under the tree we hardly had room to walk around the room. The caroling of Church groups stopping at each house.

Memories of Berwind Jr. High School are special to me. The many high school dances, Halloween carnivals, and other activities that were available to all of us to enjoy and bring the students together. They had a great PTA with a lot of hard working parents that gave their time to help sponsor these activities. Also, we had a great school with excellent teachers.

The many evenings of getting together after school at the old Company Store to sit and talk and always getting to buy a "nut billie", which was ice cream with peanuts and chocolate syrup on it. Sometimes a softball game would get started at the playground, or roller skating in front of the bank. At night we played croquet or caught lightening bugs.

How special the Berwind Methodist Church was to me. I treasure the values and the Christian up-bringing I received from there. The wonderful youth group, the great choir with the wonderful leadership of Ann Fugate and Margarita Branson.

Yes, my favorite memories are friends and family. The many hours we shared together will never be forgotten.

When we were growing up in Berwind, Halloween was a cherished tradition by young and old alike. Most of us enjoyed the Tom-foolery that went on at that time. The school would get us all wired up for the ghosts, gremlins, and goblins that came out on that night. There was the school Halloween Carnival where we could go and for about $2.00 we could play games, eat junk food, and be scared out of our wits in the House of Horrors that was set up in the gymnasium downstairs in the girl's locker room.

Then on Halloween we'd all put on our scariest outfits and make-up and go around the whole town gathering goodies from everyone. (In those days we had no worries of razors being put in apples, or drugs in candy.) We would have a great time "trick-or-treating". But I don't think anyone had as good a time as Suzie Hess did. At that time she was in her sixties and quite spry for her age. Every year she would dress up and go out as Frankenstein's Monster. Even though we all knew who it was under that mask, make-up and clothes, Suzie knew how to disguise her voice and say and do things-things that would scare us to death. She was always a joy to see at Halloween because she always seemed to enjoy it so much.

DAD'S NEW CAR

Sometime in 1956 Dad bought the newest automobile that we had ever had up to that time. It was a beautiful 1953 Ford Crestline hardtop. Flamingo red with a white top. Great looking vehicle. This was the car that I would take to Welch to get my driver's license about 3 years later. This was the car that I would wash and wax just to get to drive it. This is the car that I would do my courtin' in.

Anyway, the day that Dad brought the car home we all gathered around and looked at it and oohed and ahhed at it. We ran our fingers and hands all over the smooth freshly waxed lines of it. Then he took us for a ride. He drove us down the road past the store, the school, through Rift, all the time finding something new to be amazed with on the car. We talked about how smooth the ride was and how well it rode and handled. It had an automatic transmission and the engine had plenty of pep. On over to Cucumber he drove us. Then he decided to turn around and go back home. As he pulled off the right side of the road to make his turn-around swing, one of us noticed a silver button about 2 inches in diameter on the left hand floor, just above the light dimmer switch. When asked what that button was for, Dad replied that he didn't know and had not noticed it before. So he decided to check it out. He surmised that it might be some sort of "super charger" for this peppy little automobile. He stopped the car, put the transmission in Park (just in case), and very gently stepped on the silver button. All of a sudden, two big sprays of water hit the windshield, and Dad, taken completely by surprise, almost received whiplash injuries as he jerked back. We all had a good laugh as we had christened our new car on our first ride with the windshield washer fluid.

My parents, Harry and Mary Wade moved to Berwind in 1927 and we lived in house 41. Pompeii Beni lived next door to us. Some of our other neighbors were Skid Caudell, Bill Elswick, D.G. (Tarhill) Webb, Lee Barrett, John Compton, Bill Thompson, and a family by the name of Davis and Bernard Rushrook also lived in the neighborhood. A very pleasant place to live.

Reverend J.M. Wysor at the Berwind Methodist Parsonage married June Wallace and me in August 1934. All our children were born in Berwind and I feel it was a good place to raise a family at that time. We started housekeeping over from New Town Hill. Ural Bandy, Joe Wise, Atley Johnson, Dewey Starling, Glenn Corley, Joe Black, and Andy Earls were our neighbors. A very good place to live.

In 1942 we moved to Station Hill. I.E. Rorrer, Arthur Herndon, Tom Asbury, George Savinsky, A. Smithers and Red Gillespie were our neighbors. Again, a good place to live. Later we had Earl Southern, Clarence Ogle, Dewey McGlothin, Bob Hensley, the Stanleys, and the Charles family as neighbors. Good people to live with. They were Berwinders.

But the highlight of living in Berwind was working in the Church. I meet so many people that grew up in that Church who say we helped them. God has blessed us for the efforts we made there. So many of our young people are still serving God. If Berwind had not shut down, I guess I would be there yet. Of course, so would enough of you that it would still be a good place to live.

GOOD MEMORIES

If I had to describe Berwind in only one word, it would be "Safe". We lived in a little community that was completely safe for us to go wherever we wanted to go without fear. We were so secure! We had good people there - caring people. Remember - we spoke to everyone we met!

I was especially proud of our "down-town". Our nice bank, office building and post office. I still remember the smell of our beautiful Doctor's Office. But the real source of pride for me was our Drug Store. I was so proud to take my company there for cokes from the little bottles, and nut billies!

The most enjoyable time for me was sleigh riding down Station Hill. We would burn old tires to keep warm. Also, a favorite time was Christmas and caroling.

Lots of good memories. God bless us all!

I don't think a day goes by that I don't think of Berwind in some way. A small town with no modern conveniences, but yet, everyone got along. To think that one had to fire up the old stove to get hot water, but it was day in and day out.

All the good times we used to have at the Assembly of God Church. All the good people we used to know. Glen Christian and I were talking at the Reunion (1993) of all the young people from Berwind that went into full time ministry. Working for the Lord, it was great.

Every time I see a game of horseshoes I think of the times down in the bottom in the alley at Bill Wade's and Glen McNew's houses and how they would play until dark.

Then on Sunday afternoon we'd go down to the ball diamond to watch Norman Lane coach the team to another win. Roy Linkous and Zenith Blevins would hit home runs out of the park. We would chase balls all day, then if you were lucky, Norman would let you carry all the baseball equipment over to his house. Sometimes he would give us a broken bat, or a ball that had the cover half knocked off of it.

Then we would have our ballgames; "up the road" would play "down the road". Darrell Overbey would get a team from the bottom where he lived. I would get a team from Station Hill. I don't think we ever had nine players. My team, as a rule, was Roger and Tony Ogel, Jimmy Asbury, Tom McGlothin, Jimmy Shrader, my brother Jerry, and myself. But we had some good times.

Today we see school buses everywhere. But to think how far some of us had to walk, rain, snow or shine.

Then we would think of winter about Thanksgiving when Papaw Wade would kill hogs. To see the men going around Tank Hill with their tubs to help and get the `chitlins'. Before daybreak they would have hogs cleaned and hanging. Mamaw Wade would have the first liver and tenderloin done and ready to eat with grease gravy. All day long I could not wait for school to be out so I could go out there and be there until late that night. Sometimes my dad and his brothers and some other help would be there all night. For the next three months you could go to Mamaw Wade's and get a good pork skin. Tank Hill sure took on a different smell for a few days.

Now-a-days we can see the Dry Fork Creek running clear (hard to believe how dirty it used to be). We would go up to the dam or over to the planing mill and go fishing, but we would always end up in that dirty water. But, for trout season, we would go camping in Big Creek Hollow. O' what times we had on Big Creek.

Then I think of the times we would go down to the Company Store, what a big place. And at Christmas, Toyland was on the 2nd floor. What a thrill! At Christmas, Mamaw Wade always had a gift for everyone that came to her house.

Then the times we don't like to think about when we would hear Dr. Lovas and the emergency crew going for the mines. They had had an explosion or a cave-in. Then to see if anybody, or who had been hurt.

I remember the nights we would sleigh ride most of the night off New Town Hill. We'd go all over town looking for old tires. Get a fire going; just about freeze to death by the time we got to the top of the hill to ride down again. Such fun!

The time we spent in Warrior Hollow was enjoyable. Camping out, we'd ride our bikes down to the swimming hole about 6 AM and jump in. We would turn blue, it was so cold!

I remember "Box Car" and "Cob Pipe". "Cob Pipe" would do a little dance he liked to call "The Hucklebuck".

I left Berwind in 1957 going to the Navy. Sometimes I would be gone for six to ten months at a time. I would get letters saying someone had been laid off work. I would think how that person had been there for as long as I could remember. Each time I would go back, a little more would be torn down, more people gone. Buildings can be torn down, lights can be turned out, and streets can be rolled up. But memories are yours, they are forever.

Many times I have been in groups where the question was asked, "Why are you a Methodist?" Answers have included, "Because my parents were" or, "I went to a Methodist revival" or, "I married a Methodist". My answer was always different. "Because they had prettier girls at the Methodist Church." And it is the truth.

I grew up in Canebrake, up the road about two miles. I had a little contact with Berwind until I went there to Junior High School. I noticed that the girls at Berwind were prettier but were not then tops on my agenda. I was mostly interested in baseball, swimming, my boy friends and the like. Then things began to change. By the time I went to Big Creek High School my interests began to seriously include girls (I think I was a little late). That's when my brother and I began to attend the Methodist Church in Berwind. My observations proved cor