Our home place is now under siege. Bull Creek is devoid of people, hardwood trees, ginseng, yellow root, and most other native plant and animal species. It is empty. The mountains above it have been strip mined along with my memories of Uncle Kin’s cabin and huckleberry picking. Ashford Ridge running from Ashford to Bull Creek has been scalped by mountain top removal strip mining. Behind our homeplace and just over the mountain on Fork Creek, mountain top removal strip mining is closing in on us.
January 18, 2012 · 3:19 pm
Truman and Me (epilogue) by Julian Martin
Filed under Essays on a West Virginia Childhood, Essays on Childhood: A Sense of Place, Essays on Childhood: Creative. Nonfiction. Writers., Writing
Tagged as Ashford Ridge, boyhood, Bull Creek, essays, Essays on Childhood, Ethyl Atkins Barker, family history, farms, Fork Creek, grandparents, Julian Martin, mountain top removal, strip mining, Uncle Kin Barker, West Virginia, West Virginia Writers
