Decorating Our World
by Sue Greer-Pitt
Lexington Herald-Leader
“Appalachian Voices”
October 29, 2000
I love this time of year in Letcher County, because not only does nature begin her displays of autumn splendor, but so do the residents of Letcher County. The first sign that the fall season of home and yard decorating is upon us are the chrysanthemums that begin to bloom in great rows at local nurseries. The nurseries display their fall colors in banks of yellow, white and maroon outside the greenhouses to tempt commuters to stop and buy. And buy we do. By mid-October all those splashes of color will be spread throughout the county in yards and on porches. The potted flowers will be grouped with bales of hay, corn shocks, pumpkins and other symbols of harvest time.
In October, a new form of decorating appears. Letcher County residents celebrate Halloween like no others I’ve ever seen (despite the variety of places I’ve lived -- California, Ohio, Pennsylvania and Virginia). Ghosts, goblins, skeletons, witches, and most of all jack-O-lanterns are found in every corner of Letcher County. Elaborate displays with entire casts of haunted characters that light up at night march across some yards. But, no matter how small the yard or humble the home, almost all make some effort at decorating for the season.
There is a small lull in the decorating fury in early November, but it only the calm before the whirlwind of Christmas lights and fantasy. Whatever else Letcher County is during the day, in the weeks before Christmas, at nightfall the county becomes a magical fairyland of lights. The displays out do anything I have seen anywhere (including my childhood in California).
Every year Christmas in Letcher County has been a feast for the eyes. However, something truly awesome happened last December in Letcher County. Every night from Thanksgiving to Christmas the display expanded. New strings of lights seemed to go up every night. In some places houses were entirely engulfed in lights. Every bush and shrub was encased in shimmering incandescence. Old coal camps like Hemphill became enchanted places after dark, as each house along the road put up at least a few strings of lights. It was as if a dazzling contagion spread through our hills and hollers.
The thing that makes Letcher County special is that no matter what the season, the folks here display a glowing pride in their homes. A home may be old or an inexpensive trailer, but that doesn’t matter. The folks of Letcher County tend their yards carefully creating flower beds where ever they can, and if they can’t they hang flowers and wind chimes and other decorations on their porches and decks in summer, and create lavish displays of lights and decorations for the holidays.
Rare is the home where the occupants haven’t made an effort to beautify their world. They may not be able to afford a new coat of paint or the lumber to replace a sagging porch, but they will be sure that they and those who pass by are greeted by displays of color whether it is autumn, winter or summer. This care for place and for beauty belies all the stereotypes of Appalachia. There are the occasional exceptions here, as anywhere, but most of the houses I see in my neighborhood with weed choked yards are those that the banks have taken away from owners who got behind in their payments. These are houses that were once loved and cared for, where flowers once bloomed, Halloween ghosts roamed, and Christmas lights once glistened. There is something wrong with a system that allows people with financial difficulties to be forced from homes they have maintained and cared for, and allows those houses and yards to sit empty for months, becoming eyesores to the whole community.
When outsiders speak of the beauty of Appalachia, they are referring to the natural features of mountain, forest, and stream. These are indeed worthy of notice and comment. But, to me the greatest beauty is that which the people create of small things: a pot of chrysanthemums, a string of white lights, a row of sunflowers, and a neatly mowed lawn.