We are having a Governor's election here in Virginia and yesterday I went to one of those political rally's where each party tries to get the people out there to garner votes.
It caused me to reflect on politics in the mountains. Mountain folk are not much different from anywhere else except our politics have effected families for years and our memories go way, way BACK.
My family are all from the area right on the border of West Virginia. During the Civil War I had a grandfather that refused to serve for either side. He had a brother on the Confederate side and one on the Union and he said he refused to fight against either. He was conscripted into the Confederacy but kept deserting. He deserted one time too many and they shot him in the back of the head, letting him fall back into his own coffin. Then the family sent an Aunt and a black neighbor to go get him and bury him in the family cemetery.
We remember that the Methodist Church split on the issue of slavery in 1845.
My family are all from the area right on the border of West Virginia. During the Civil War I had a grandfather that refused to serve for either side. He had a brother on the Confederate side and one on the Union and he said he refused to fight against either. He was conscripted into the Confederacy but kept deserting. He deserted one time too many and they shot him in the back of the head, letting him fall back into his own coffin. Then the family sent an Aunt and a black neighbor to go get him and bury him in the family cemetery.
We remember that the Methodist Church split on the issue of slavery in 1845.
