| Summary: This is an interview with Edith
Violet (Meredith) Egbert (names changed at request of interviewee).
Edith Violet Egbert was born on June 7, 1918 in Anawalt, West Virginia.
She lived there, in a mining community, for about ten years. Her
family then moved to Smyth County, VA, near Chilhowie. Her father
worked in the coal mines in West Virginia, and then her family bought a
farm in Virginia. Her father supplemented the family income from the
farm during the Depression by running a milk route. Most of the family
helped work on the farm in Virginia. Edith Violet Egbert went to school
through the fourth grade in West Virginia, and graduated high school in Virginia
in 1933. She had the opportunity to attend Marion College for a business
degree but was unable to after her mother fell ill and Edith Violet had to
stay to help her family. After Ms. Egbert married, her and her husband,
Vincent, worked a business together—though Edith Violet wound up essentially
running the business while Vincent handled sales. Later in life Edith
Violet had to balance her work with Echo Sales (her and her husband’s business)
and motherhood. In this interview Edith Violet Egbert discusses education and her opportunities for higher education. She also talks about working with her husband, working when she was young and her mother's work. She talks about motherhood, her experiences during the Great Depression (1), the Women’s Rights Movement, gender relations, sexuality (particularly homosexuality) and the impact of technology on her life. Transcript of interview by Jason Echols of Edith Violet (Meredith) Egbert March 2, 2003 Jason Echols: But we came up with our own questions (inaudible) umm, anyway, well just to start: what’s your name? Your full name? Edith Violet Egbert: Edith Violet Meredith Egbert. JE: Okay. And when and where were you born? VE: Where was I born? JE: When and where? VE: Where? Okay. June 7, 1918 in…I guess I was born in Anawalt, West Virginia. JE: Anawalt? VE: That’s the town, that’s not the mining area. That’s the town. A-N-A-W-A-L-T. JE: And that’s where you grew up though? VE: Well, I was there until I was ten years of age. JE: And then you moved to…? VE: To Smyth County [Virginia], Chilhowie. JE: Chilhowie? VE: Actually, it was Smyth County, out in the country. I take it you’re going to re-edit all this. This is not your actual interview. You’re going to re-edit it, write it? JE: I think this is going to be the transcript. Most of what’s being said here. But I’ll take out parts for the paper and things like that. If you ever want anything taken out, just let me know. Well, we might skip around to parts of your life, but just the questions are going to focus on your experience of what was happening at the time. But the first questions I’m going to ask you about are about romances and marriage. VE: Oh my goodness, we’re jumping right in there! I have all these things happen while I was growing up before I got married! Okay. Well I guess Vincent and I were in the same church together but there was about seven years difference in our age so really he seemed so much older than me. And we used to have what we called B.Y.P.U.—Baptist Young Peoples Union and we would have our church activities and then we would have parties or socials where we would get together and do fun things. And so one of my first remembrances of actually recognizing Vincent at all was at one of these socials and he came and we got into some conversations and that led to him finally asking me to go to the movie with him. And I had a very close girlfriend so of course you know as girls do, maybe boys too they get together and talk over all these things that happen and so she was real anxious to know how everything went. Well of course he had at that time he had a car, very few people even my age did not have cars yet but he was older so he had a car. And we went to a movie. And so then the girlfriend she was anxious to know all about it so I said, “Well he’s very nice and I enjoyed it” but I said “Of course he’s just too old for me. And that’s that” but I said, “He’s very nice and I enjoyed it, had a good time.” And that was the beginning then of our…I don’t remember how the romance continued particularly except that we just went to the movies and went to the church activities some together and eventually led up to our realizing that we were more than just casual acquaintances, that we liked each other. And of course he had a good family background and I did too, no conflict as far as religious convictions were concerned. One of the things that always fascinated me about him and he liked so much—on his steering wheel, he had a knob and you could take that knob and turn that steering wheel around. And he just loved that…that was his toy, and also I was fascinated about that too. JE: It turned the steering wheel? VE: Well, it was a knob that fastened on the steering wheel and it…the knob would turn and so you could get that knob, you could turn that steering wheel. It was real ornate as far as I was concerned. And that seemed to be one of our conversations—talking about that knob on that steering wheel! And of course by that time, see he was working; his father had passed away. And they had—he had the wholesale business and had a lot of merchandise and so the family decided that Vincent would be the one that would try to help get rid of that stock. And clean it out. And later on I always told people that I didn’t know whether he just was such a poor salesman and couldn’t get rid of it or if he decided he like the business and stayed with it. And so that’s the business he was in at the time I started dating him—that I married into. JE: So he…oh, I’ll get to that…. Do you remember what the movie was you went to go see? VE: Land’s no! No. I guess I wasn’t thinking about the movie! JE: Do you remember what car it was? VE: Car? I want to think it was probably a Plymouth. I’m not real sure about that. But he drove Plymouths for a long time, then he went to Dodges, then he went to Oldsmobiles. I think it was a Plymouth. JE: It was Riverside though? VE: Yes. JE: Do you know what year it was? VE: I graduated high school in ’35. So it was in the late 1930’s, ’37 – ’38 somewhere like that I guess. JE: So did you have any boyfriends before Pap-paw? VE: Well, yes. We were just friends. We did not have the conveniences that young people have today at an early age where they have a car and go here and can go there. Mostly what ours was, was that we would get together as a group in the local community and walked a lot, where we wanted to go. In fact, where we came by yesterday by this little place called Campbell’s Chapel, which is on about a mile, maybe a little more than a mile beyond my home up in the country. And we would walk to these places, we walked up there and they had singings, they called it, they (inaudible). So we just enjoyed going and socializing and singing with them and of course you had to walk there and walk back and that’s when you sort of paired off and walked together so I had boys like that but never anything, any serious things. JE: So what was your…. Well, you kind of talked about your courtship. What was your courtship, your wedding, what was that like? VE: Okay. The courtship, now with Vincent, it mostly revolved around our activities with the church, the social activities with the church, and of course our coming together for our meetings and so forth. And going to an occasional movie that was basically the activities we had. And of course when we married, I had a little baby brother, that came later in mother and daddy’s life—that’s my brother Eldin that was killed in the service. And of course I did not have any money because I had never worked and daddy had a limited income. He had bought a farm and he had owned it and the depression hit and he was afraid he was going to lose it and he did get this job hauling milk then. So he had to invest in a truck and so forth. So money was very scarce on my part. But Vincent of course had this growing wholesale business and so when we decided to marry, we did not have, as you would have today, these big church weddings and all that. They didn’t have enough money for nobody to get me a sort of special dress to wear. And so we had it all worked out with our pastor from our church to marry us. And at that time the parsonage for Riverside was in Chilhowie up from where the old high school was in Chilhowie, where the library is now, right up the street there. And so we had the appointment to come over and everyone was real excited about our getting married because here were two local people from the church. So we had an appointment to be there at nine o’clock at the parsonage to be married and my mother could not go with us but Vincent’s mother was going with us as a witness I guess and just to be there. He was late coming and then my daddy kid me, he said, “Well, he’s back out on you” said “He just won’t show up.” But he had a flat tire so he had to fix his tire so we came on into Chilhowie and this simple, this ceremony as far as the vows were concerned is basically what you would even see today in churches. But the only people there was the minister’s wife and her sister who I had gone to school with and Vincent’s mother. And so it was pretty, sort of fair. And we took Vincent’s mother back home and took off and we stopped over at I think it was Troutdale or Independence for lunch and then we honeymooned—this was on a Friday—and we went down into Asheville, North Carolina and went to the Biltmore estate and toured all that and then came on back home on Sunday because he had to be back on work on Monday. And we did not have our own home we were staying—I was staying with him at Mother Egbert’ house and then shortly after that the little house down there, the little white house right next to the church, the one right there by the road went for sale and Vincent enough money to do it and just about pay for it. And that was our little, that was our little haven. I was so glad because I was uncomfortable being in someone else’s home and I was so glad to have my own home. JE: So when did you move in there? When did you move into your own home? When did you move into that white house? VE: Oh! Well let’s see, we were married in April and I believed we moved in to the maybe on along about August—September, that same year. Wa’n’t long. I’m not sure about the time but it wa’n’t too long after we heard that we moved into the house. And young people today would not think about starting out with as little as we had. We had just the basics. Of course we had to buy a stove and we bought a…and Sandy still has that table and chairs today it was painted white and had little red decorations on the backs of the chairs and so forth. I took all that paint off and had a nice lacquer finish. I mean she has it today and she’s just now redoing it in her home now. So it was a stove, and we did not have a refrigerator, we did not have running water, we did not have indoor plumbing. Now, I had it…Vincent had it at his home, but I had not had plumbing at my home at that time. And we got a bed from mother Egbert and it’s one of those old iron bedsteads and it’s like—I don’t even know if I can talk about it—but it had the—you put the head and the bottom together with a railing but it was metal and then the slats, wooden slats, lay across that and you laid the mattress on it. Well that was railing, slats, or whatever you want to call it, but want to spring and Vincent and I were dumped out in the floor several times when our bed cave way, it would spread wide and then the boards would go down. But anyway that was all right. And at first the clothing we had—a lot of your merchandise in those days came in boxes, wooden boxes, crates, and he’d pick them up at the station, railroad station, in Chilhowie, his merchandise came there. So we had one of those and we converted it into like a dresser, only it did not have drawers…and it had a little mirror up there. So you know, young people today wouldn’t think of starting out that way. If I were able to buy two living room chairs and what they called a studio couch, that opened and made into a bed [inaudible]. JE: A studio couch? VE: Well, I think that’s what they called it. I believe. But it made into—it opened out and made into a bed. JE: Well, why wouldn’t your family—your brothers and sisters, Pap-paw’s—at the wedding? VE: Well, you see, I was the oldest one in my family. And Earl, of course, he was in school—this was on a Friday and so he had to go to school. And of course my other brother was the baby, wasn’t there because as I said earlier he came later into the world. JE: So your parents were there? With Eldin? Your parents were there at the wedding? VE: No. Vincent’s mother was the only one of any family member that was with us. JE: Oh. Was that the way most weddings were? VE: Well, that’s just the way it had to be. Mother would’ve loved to have gone, she was very supportive. But daddy had to—now he was hauling milk, and we had no refrigeration at that time and you had these cans, metal cans, five to ten gallon cans and they would put them like in the spring branch. But the milk had to go out every day because there was no way of keeping it fresh. And so Saturday, Sunday, any day of the week, he still had to make that route with that milk. And he’d bring it into Chilhowie, and they had a plant there. And he made the expense to get from there. And finally went on in and built one in Abingdon…later on. JE: So it wasn’t unusual for a lot of people…? VE: Now this, you have to remember, this was severe depression time. That before the—I mean banks foreclosed, and businesses lost everything. It was a very critical time. So there’s a lot of history written about that period, the Depression, that time—I don’t know why they call it “depression”…. JE: So then your…. VE: And of course now, going back, I was born in West Virginia and started school in West Virginia and we did not come to Virginia until I was about ten years of age. JE: So that was almost when the Depression started. Isn’t it? VE: Yes. Daddy had just bought the farm, it wan’t but thirty, thirty-some acres. And he had just bought the farm and the Depression hit, and he thought he was going to lose his farm. So you know today, children like to have pants with the holes in them and it’s fashionable. But it wan’t fashionable it our time because it was a necessity and so you wore patched clothes. You had to have money to buy clothes with. Some of my clothes were made out of—at one time they had grain and feed sacks—and so you’d take those seed sacks and you’d make your clothes out of that. You know they talk about up there people today and Loaves and Fishes and all that. They don’t know they don’t have any inkling of what it is to be in a situation like that. But he was able to—he of course got the milk route and of course he had to go and get, buy his truck. But he was able to save his farm with what he could do…. JE: He was doing the farm while doing the day route? VE: And he’d make his routes and then it was from dawn to dusk that you’d work. And we would go. You know we children had to go and hoe the corn and help with the crops. I’ve done everything there is to do to tobacco, for example: pulling off the suckers, and taking rid of the worms on the—see they didn’t have the sprays and things, you had to manually work up there and get those…and I hated that job! But I’ve even—I even cut some tobacco. Put it on these sticks and stripped the stalks…. JE: Didn’t you say once that you’d always go in and start up the stove? To make the cornbread and stuff for lunch? VE: Yes. It was during that time that they’d all be out in the fields working and I’d just come in. We had a wood stove and we had some coal and I’d start it. And of course, basically, a lot of times our meals would consist of just brown beans, dried beans cooked, with a little pork in them, and cornbread. And, or if you had garden time, we [inaudible] we had fresh corn from the garden, greens and beans and all that sort of thing. Everyone had a garden at that time. We’d canned and made your own preserves. Even took cabbage and made kraut out of it. JE: But you were the only daughter, right? VE: Um-hmm. JE: That’s right. What was your mother…where was she? She had to go out in the fields too? VE: Who? JE: Your mother. VE: Oh yes! Oh yes! You even took that baby out in the field and put it in a basket or a box or something. You had that baby out there with you. JE: That would be Kenny? VE: Well, now Kenny’s the…came…let’s see…I guess it was Kenny that was the baby. [Inaudible] I guess Eldin…. [Inaudible] Now my mother was the type person she probably—if she had lived in today’s world, she probably would have been a registered nurse because she had a lot of interest in that area. Whenever anyone was sick, mother had her home remedies that you use for this, that and the other. She would go—and I’ve known her to go—and sit through the night with people who were critically ill, like that had pneumonia, when a fever breaks, and help with childbirth. She did have enough education, and she did teach school. And she met daddy. Daddy, my daddy, had gone to Illinois somewhere, they had some big farming area, and he had a brother and a sister there. I don’t know how they ended up in Illinois, but anyway Daddy went out there and met—he came home one time to visit the family and fell in love with mother. And so then they went—after they married, they moved into West Virginia into the coal fields. He did not work in the mines, but he took care of the mules that they used to pull the coal, their carts of coal, out of the mines. They didn’t have the facilities they have today. The mules would get hurt, sometimes break a leg, you didn’t shoot him, you tried to mend him up, fix him, get him back in harness, and he sit up many nights with a mule nursing him through an accident he had. They had accidents with mules and with people. JE: And you all had a farm in West Virginia too? VE: Hmm? JE: Did you have a farm in West Virginia too? VE: No no. We lived in—the coal company owned most of the houses in the town. And so we lived in one of the company houses. I can see it right now; it was painted dark green, and I think it had three rooms. We sit high up on the bank, looking down on all the houses owned by the company. JE: So why did you all move to Smyth County? VE: Hmm? JE: Why did you all move to Smyth County? VE: Well, going to West Virginia and working in the coal mines was just a matter of seeking a way to exist. And that’s when daddy was able to save up enough to make a down payment on that farm. And he loved to farm, and he would like to have eventually gone back to Illinois because the farming was so extensive around there. But mother was reluctant to leave her family. She was the baby one in her family and had several older brothers and sisters. For long time she didn’t even have a name. And she was about…I think she was close to three years old if I remember. And they were in West Virginia now I don’t know how come they to be in West Virginia. But they were coming home, and the older brother—they were coming by train and the older brother said ‘Well, mommy don’t you think we ought to give the baby a name.’ He said, ‘You know when you go back they’ll want to know what the baby’s name is.’ And so, she got the name Minnie and that was the only name she had. JE: Do you know why she got that or did they just choose it? VE: They just chose it. I don’t know—I know of no connection. Now, she had nieces that were named after her. But up to that point I don’t know where they got the name. I said there must have been a black Mammy around somewhere that had that name. A lot of black people had that name: Minnie. JE: Do you know how far she went in her education? You said she was a teacher. VE: She…now, I don’t know. They did not have—as I remember it, they did not have the grades like first grade, second grade, and all that. You just sort of moved along, and I don’t know if they actually named the grades but you had like school up to what we considered the seventh grade if I remember correctly, and she—I don’t know how this came about but she ended up going to Abingdon and boarding down there and they had what they called “Normal”—now don’t ask me what that normal means—but you’d get a teaching certificate there and so she got her teaching certificate and came back and taught in the—I think it was a one or two room school over in what they called the Piedmont area out in Synclair’s Creek. JE: In Chilhowie? VE: Yeah, in Chilhowie. It’d be on the—well now let’s see, if you were going like to Konarock, you’d get pretty close to the Piedmont community. It’s just over on that trail. JE: But she didn’t have any training as a nurse? She just knew some of the…. VE: She just, she just had a gift for it. JE: Did she teach you any of that? VE: No. I didn’t have any desire to learn it. She was dearly loved by her students, and they called her ‘Miss Minnie.’ In fact, when she was in the hospital shortly before she died, one of her former students came and her mind was not functioning good then. But he and I were talking, and something was said and we heard making a stir, and she was real excited and she recognized, recognized what he had said and could identify with him. And it pleased this man so that she responded to him, and she sort felt a little recognition for one of her former students. JE: But was she teaching in West Virginia at all? VE: No, she did not teach in West Virginia. Now, she was involved—we only had one church there and think they called it Methodist but if you were going to church, you’d go to church there. She had a pretty voice and she sang alto so she was in the choir in the church in the Methodist church. And they just…. It’d be hard for you to understand how you know you’re independent of your neighbors here you’re not dependent on your neighbors. But they were just…if one needed something, you’d go and borrow it. You started to make bread and you was out of baking powder, for example, you’d go and you’d borrow baking powder from your neighbor. Or maybe flour, or meat, or anything like and they were just very generous with you and they’d pay it back—they just can’t take it and not pay it back. So it’s hard for you to identify with that. JE: Do know you if she stopped teaching when she got married? Was that why she stopped teaching? VE: Yes. Because see she went from here into West Virginia. I don’t think that she…. She worked closely with the school. Of course I started school there and went through the fourth grade there. And when I came to Virginia, then I was able to skip a grade because in West Virginia, the schools were far ahead of Virginia at that time. So that was the reason I ended up being a year less than my classmates when I graduated. JE: When did you graduate from high school? VE: Oh. What year? Might be ‘33. I’m not sure about that. JE: Well, didn’t the Depression keep you from going to school at all? VE: I had…. Well, there was a man in Chilhowie that took a special interest in me—because I was salutatorian of my class and we had to make a little speech at graduation. And this man, he was a mail carrier. And he was with my daddy, and my dad was a Mason, belonged to the Masonic lodge. And this man was in the Masonic lodge and he also carried mail. But why he took special interest in me, I don’t know. But he made arrangements for me to go to Marion College seeking a business degree. As I said, then my brothers—Earl and I are fairly close together and then there’s quite a span between Earl and Eldin and then from Eldin to Kenny, there’s a wide span. And then mother got sick and they just decided I had to stay home to take care of her. And so I did not get to on to school. JE: So after high school, you were going to go to…? VE: A high school education is as far as I got in my education. JE: So you were going to go to the business school in Marion? VE: Everything was set up for me to go to Marion College, and I was going to get a business degree. JE: Why a business degree? VE: Because I like figures, I think. I said ended up, you know, literally running the business that we had, the private business. But I liked math and I liked English. Maybe secretarial work I could bring…. JE: Was that…were there mostly…? Was Marion College a woman’s college? VE: It was just a two-year college at that time. JE: Was it just for women or was it co-ed? VE: I want to think it was just women, but I’m not sure. I’m not sure about that. I may be wrong of course it probably did change, as did all the schools. They weren’t integrated at the time. JE: So you were…. But even during the Depression you were going to go to Marion College. It’s just that your mother got sick? VE: See, she had a stomach ulcer and so she felt that I’d be better…. Of course, we for survival had to depend on each other you couldn’t just take off on your own and do what you wanted to do because the family had to be held together. To survive, you just had to buckle down and do what you had to do. I was very disappointed because I wanted so much to go. And then I had a close friend who lived just on up the road and across the hill from where I lived and she went to Virginia Intermont and took business courses. And so she let me have her books, her typing books and so forth and so then that’s where I picked up on that, on my own, and self-taught in other words. Different days from what you know. JE: Would you have lived on campus? Do you know? VE: He had made arrangements for me to live in a home. Of course, I think the idea was, if I remember correctly, that I would help with several things in the house. Instead of paying my board, I would work my way by doing things in the house like washing dishes and taking care of the children or whatever they needed. JE: And do you remember hearing about what type of classes you would have had? Were they typing classes? VE: Well, let’s see. I didn’t get that far. No. JE: And was this man going to help you pay for it? VE: Well, I don’t know how they worked out the arrangements. Well, he got basically what we would call today a scholarship for me. There was some money there that they furnished for education. And as I said I had no personal contact with the man. It was just some reason…of course, he and daddy were good friends. And he just took an interest in me and knew that I was interested in learning and that I had excelled in my classes at school. And it was just something he wanted to do. No strings attached. He just worked it all out. JE: Wow. Do you remember what his name was? VE: Hmm? JE: Do you remember what his name was? VE: Yes. It was Prater. Hiram Prater. JE: Hiram? VE: Hiram, H-I-R-A-M, Hiram Prater. JE: But then you…. So from 1933 when you graduated from high school and then you were just working on the farm, making the lunches, and working out in the fields? VE: Well, I finally…I got me some…. Ha, I felt like I wanted me to have some of my own and so…. Now, you don’t understand about this either I don’t think. To have little baby chicks, used to, you had the eggs and the hens would sit on their nests and hatch their chickens. And they had what you’d call an incubator. And as best as I can remember it was a round thing and there was heat in that someway. I don’t know how all that worked. Anyway, you had your little chicken in there. Anyway, daddy worked it out for me to raise a brood of chickens, or a flock of chickens. And so I got the chickens up to where they could on market day, they could sell them and get a little money that way and you’d get egg money. JE: Was that just for you or did you have to share with the family? VE: No, that was my project and that was for me. I was the only girl in the family and so I got a few favors. But they realized it was difficult times. It was hard on them. It was hard to see us struggling and so…I walked to school. We didn’t have buses; we didn’t have no snow days. You went to school it didn’t make any difference. We went down to Riverside, about a mile walk. JE: It was about a mile? VE: At one time it was so cold that I froze my…my heels froze. And my heels hurt all that winter long, and it took up to two or three years to where my heels weren’t sensitive because it was just so cold. And walking in the snow, ice. That’s the reason today, you know, when I think there’s a little bit of snow on the ground I think they’re going to have school. I think it’s terrible…. JE: You lived a mile from the Riverside school. What if you lived farther out? VE: You walked. JE: Would you still…even if you lived in the mountains? VE: Now, they did have—they didn’t use them the years I was at Riverside—but when Vincent was at Riverside, they had barns out back. And you could ride your own horse or bring a horse and buggy and store them there. And they stayed there while you were in school. And you’d go…when you went home, instead of getting on a bus, you got on your horse or you got in your buggy. And if they had a buggy and there were several children, several children would ride that buggy. JE: But not everybody went to school, right? VE: Well, a lot of people did not get an education. That’s right. It was not mandatory…. JE: It wasn’t something you had to pay for though was it? VE: No, no. Now, when I finished…now, at Riverside, we only had through grades, seventh-eighth grades. And as I said mother had taught school and she was interested in education. And so she went to the superintendent of schools and asked if there was some way that we could pick up some transportation where we could get into Chilhowie and get a high school education. And so they granted some money for it and there was a man that he drove a pick-up truck and he delivered mail and so he put a cover on the back of that truck and took two benches—one on either side—and he’d pick us up and take us to school and then delivered his mail and then took us back to Riverside. So that’s the way we got to go to school. Now, with Vincent, his father bought a house in Chilhowie so they could live there during the school year to be able to go to school beyond the academics of Riverside. JE: How did your parents afford to let you—and did any of your brothers go too? How did they afford to do that without having you there to help with the farm? VE: Well, you’d work when you came home in the afternoons. Summertime, you know, it didn’t get dark until seven or eight o’clock. Got home around three-thirty or four o’clock I don’t know, basically I’d say about the same time your schedules are now. But you didn’t go home and sit down to read a book or you didn’t watch television—because they didn’t have television! And so you worked, you know you had your chores to do before you went to school in the morning. We had a spring and we had to carry water from the spring to have water in the house. You had that. If it was Monday, it was Wash Day, you carried up enough water to fill up the kettle and they’d heat the water in it and you washed on a board…a tub and a board. Did you ever see a washboard? Of course, later on, mother and daddy were able to get a washing machine, and it was a gasoline motor that went—putt putt putt putt putt putt putt putt—you’d hear it all over the community that we was washing clothes! JE: When did they get a washing machine? It wasn’t while you were…during the Depression, was it? VE: Hmm? JE: Was it during the Depression? VE: Well, now all of this…. The Depression was a…it took a long time for them to come out of the Depression. Of course, I don’t know what caused it, and I don’t know what it is. My whole period of growing up from the time now… We got along fine in West Virginia, and that’s why people came there. And I went to school with every nationality you can think of. There were Hungarians—they called them “Hunks” and “Swedes” and that kind of thing. But they came there to work and of course a lot of people knew the danger of going into those mines at that time because it wasn’t unusual to have a slate fall or coal fall and kill someone, it wasn’t unusual. And they…when they had an accident at the mine, they had a big ol’—I don’t know how it worked—but a big ol’—not a whistle but a big ol’ sound that went off when something that there was an accident. And everyone who was able-bodied would go to help recover that person, to get them out and everybody tried to get help for them and so forth. We had what you called a company doctor; the company furnished the doctor for the minors. So you see, that was something you didn’t have here in the country. But then, you see they owned the property, they owned the houses, the doctor was employed by them, and they even had a company store. And you could go to the store and you didn’t have to take money, you had what they called script. And at payday then of course, that’s when you lost your bills to pay off of the script you used to buy your groceries. They never liked—my folks never liked the coalfields. They didn’t like the environment…and as I said I went to school with all nationalities. JE: Do you know when…you said the Depression lasted a long time. Do you know when it ended…when did it end for you all? VE: I guess it was close in there—now, I don’t know history—but I would say close in there around maybe nineteen and forty, somewhere right in there. Fairly lengthy. And as I said I don’t know anything about the government as to why it happened or how it happened. But it was a dark time in history. But you learned… in one sense of the word it taught you values and appreciation for what you do have. That’s the reason today I can’t understand…well, I can’t understand Loaves and Fishes even for example because these people are willing to just stand in line and have a handout. And during the time when I was growing up for the most part, people were too proud to have done that. They would have dug ditches, they would have done anything to earn their own way, but they would not live off of somebody else’s money. It just…that independence was there I guess, I don’t know. But everyone was poor for the most part a few people weren’t. We had the operators of the mines, you know, they had a pretty nice home. But still they worked and mingled in with the employees. Didn’t have the organizations that they have now. Didn’t have the rules and regulations and stipulations. You just thankful. JE: How did you know when the Depression was over? Did anything change? VE: Well, everyone began…jobs were generated for one thing, more employment was given that was available to people other than working in the mines or nothing. And as I said, Daddy came here and started to work, and the Pet Milk Company started the milk business they helped people to select cows that were good producers of milk and they checked the butterfat and all that sort of stuff. JE: In the 1940’s? VE: Um-hm. So gradually then, we came out of the Depression. It was a gradual process. But the store, you’d go to the store, you needed the things maybe you had butter, you could take your butter and sell your butter and get groceries. You know, what you could buy was so short; it was all whatever you needed—basics. And you heard me tell about carrying that chicken to the store and how hot…well, mother was canning something and she had to have something from the store. And she sent me and that was then about a mile walk, went down to [inaudible] that was where the store was. And I carried that chicken on this hot day and oh, I remember it was so hot, I remember I was barefoot and it was hot on my feet. I got down there and my chicken had died! ‘Course you carried it by the legs and of course this was… this was always now this was not my kind of thing, but it was something I had to do. So if you had to do it you did it. [Tape Ends] JE: You talked about a lot of things that I was about to get to, so thank you! You must have gotten this sheet ahead of time. VE: No, I’m just ramblin’ along. I hope no one checks it out as to how factual it is as far as dates and years and whys and how-fors I don’t know about. JE: No, we’re just doing generals, times…But when you said that you had married [Vincent] that he had already that his dad had died and left the warehouse business. Did his dad start the warehouse business? VE: He had traveled for another company early on I think, and he met Vincent’s mother. She worked for a China business in Bristol. Course that time we weren’t married. I think she also did office work didn’t she, I don’t know. She was also going into Tennessee. I don’t know much about that time. But yes…. JE: So [Vincent’s] dad started the business? VE: Now, I don’t know how he came, how he came into the business. I don’t know about that. But he died…now I just came across a tintype of him the other day—I think I told you, maybe I didn’t tell you—but I was just so surprised it had on the back of it “E.B. Egbert, Baby Picture” and that was “1864.” And he died at age 62, and I know when he died I thought of him as being an old man and you know 62 today is not considered an old person. But he had traveled horse and buggy and I think he had worked up until he had some kind of car and he worked the merchants throughout the countryside. And so Neil and Vincent were the two boys, and the family said well, they needed to get rid of the merchandise they had there. And so Vincent was elected—Neil would stay there and do farming—and Vincent was elected to go out and get rid of the stock. Now, he had a lot of things under his own label “Echo Sales Company.” He had like [tire] tube patch, in fact Billy, Amanda’s husband, showed us—if you want some he’s got a little—on the dresser in one of the living rooms—Billy loves old things—and he had what they called an “H&N tablets”—a headache and a neurgal[?]—they had a box packaged under the Echo Sales Company. Several things he had: had batteries, under his name. But anyway, Vincent was to get rid of merchandise and I was always told people I said: “I didn’t know if whether he was just such a slow salesman and couldn’t get rid of it or if he just decided he liked the business and stayed with it.” JE: So when you married him, he already had the business going? Was he still trying to get rid of it? VE: I believe he died in ’33 or somewhere [inaudible]. What he did, he took the backseat out of the car and that made room to carry this stuff in. Later on he got up to where he could move into trucks. But at the time he passed away, he was just doing commercial work. JE: So when you got married, were you helping out with the business? Or how did you become involved in it? VE: Well, of course, Vincent was gone…. JE: On the road? VE: Yeah. You see sometimes he was gone just spent the night out; he’d stay in someone’s house. You didn’t stay in a motel because motels started when you just slept in someone’s home. Of course, he’d just spend the night there and he’d be there in the evening and have breakfast there, dinner, supper. By the time we married, he had pretty much a regular routine [inaudible]. Now, what was it? I’m trying to think of so many things; I lose track. JE: When you got married, how did you get involved? VE: Oh! How I got involved. Then, then. Well, when we bought the little house there next to the church and that little building out there beside the road was where he put his merchandise. For a while he still worked out of the building at the farm but then. So it was up to me where if a customer came by, a merchant came by and needed something, well I would go out and get it for him out of the building. And of course, I was always like…like on Saturday, Saturday mornings, Vincent would have to go into Chilhowie and the depot pick up the shipments that had come in for him. And then I was just always a sort of a busybody I just sort of got into it you know and I helped with the stock and that sort of thing. And then of course, when we moved to Chilhowie and had the business just up over the townhouse and it was just a necessity that someone go out and take care of the…at that time we had freight trucks bringing in the merchandise and the freight truck people. And so I just sort of worked into it, and I just keep on working in to where I was really running the business. And he could…Vincent loved to sell and he loved to travel and so that was his point. And he didn’t care about being there, about being there long enough to find out what was in. Of course, I learned to mark the merchandise, and he’d see what you marked. And really when the business really started paying off was when inflation hit and everything…the prices started going, sky-rocketing up and we had just enough money to start out, the money to buy, before the merchandise went up I could buy. And then let’s say I pay $0.10 for an item and could only mark up to $0.12, but with inflation, I could go up to $0.15. Do you see hear I’m saying? So then I could double my profit on what I brought because I was able to buy it before it went up and then go to the new marked-up price. JE: Was that something you and [Vincent] just sat down and talked about? Or was it something you did in the office? VE: Well, it’s just something that I…. Well, I guess that was the era…. See, if I had…I probably would have ended up with a secretarial course or something but that…business is more my thing, teaching school I would have never cared about at all. I didn’t…I wa’n’t that fond of my school teachers to start with. I think that’s one of the reasons. People thought I would be a teacher, but I never had the desire and my mind was always on more of a business level than it was on teaching. JE: So this was something you did while he was on the road? VE: Well of course at Riverside, we had the little business right there, and your dad was a baby and so forth, it just seemed…. Of course when we moved to Chilhowie, we lived in that garage, that three-car garage, and put our stock upstairs and had it up there for a long time. And that’s where the little dummy elevator—got it out of a restaurant in Marion—right there behind that side door you can see where it went up and we’d take the freight up on that little elevator behind the steps. Of course we lived there at first in part of that up there it wa’n’t even finished while we did some work on the house. The house had belonged to Vincent’s father and he had rented it to one family, one couple, they didn’t have any children, for seventeen years. And they didn’t…they were both teachers, and they were not housekeepers and they did not keep things up and did not ask for things to be done. And so it was a lot of work. And they had a dog, and they kept the dog in the basement. At that time, the basement was dirt and you couldn’t get rid of the odor of that dog and that dog that scared Sandy so that she had such negative reactions to dogs. But anyway, that’s when we had it in our home and finally we were able to get it into the other end of town. JE: Do you remember when that was? VE: I’d say probably early forties, maybe mid-forties. JE: And so you all built the building it was in? VE: [Inaudible] and that was when we could sit down and eat a meal without interruption. When we had the business there at the house, you know, someone wanted a box of candy, it didn’t matter if you was right in the midst of your meal if they wanted a box, it was $0.85 for a box of candy; candy bars, a nickel. Well, you had to climb those steps and get it, get up from your meal to get it for them. We hardly ever got to eat a meal without interruption. But we went to the other end of town, I said that’s end of it. JE: So what you did was just sold to the country stores around here some merchandise—making a little bit of profit on it? VE: Well we…of course we enlarged the territory some. Still, it was necessary for Vincent like if he went to Tazewell County, to spend the night somewhere over there and work a second day because he couldn’t get it all at once. If he went into Carroll County, he would spend the night and as I said, he stayed in homes. Later on, he stayed in motels. So you see, I was left alone a lot of times, and it was either I did or else it didn’t get done type of situations. But it was so natural for me and I never minded it, it was the type of thing I love. JE: Was Aunt Sandy—Aunt Sandy was born when you all moved to Chilhowie? When you moved into the house? VE: Now, let’s wait a minute, let me think back. Norman was born on this sub-zero night in January and we had a rough time; he was born at home. Sandy was born in a hospital in Marion. [Inaudible] Norman was born at home in Riverside; the doctor stayed there all night, and he was born a little later the next morning. And on that Sunday, when we had church, everyone in that church came over to see the baby. We lived in that little white house. Sandy was born, and I was…I had the same doctor deliver both the children and he told me. He said “Now Violet, I was able to help you before, but it’s going to be necessary for you to go to the hospital.” And the hospital on this end of Marion was Lee Memorial out there next to where the bottling plant is as you go into Marion. And that was about it, I guess. JE: How long was it…the doctor was able to come when Norman was born? VE: He came and spent the night! At my house! Norman was a long time coming. He spent the night. Now, that wasn’t unusual. Now, mother had pneumonia while this same doctor was going…he came out to the home. And he wanted to stay with her, but he had other patients that were critical too because it was bad at that time. And a good friend of mother’s came and stayed with me that night and he told us what to do all night long. We put these mustard poultices on her chest and you took and warmed them and put them on and as they cooled, then you warmed them and put them back on. We worked with her all night and the next morning he came and broke into a big smile and he said, “Well, you all have done it yet; you’ve broken her fever. She’s going to be all right.” JE: Was this when she was having Kenny? VE: No, she just had pneumonia. But they went to the home, they delivered the babies in the home, doctors did. They didn’t have hospitals available. JE: How did you get the doctor there? VE: How did you get him? Get him to come? JE: Yeah, for Norman? VE: Well, we had a telephone, a party line. Ours, I think, was two longs and a short or something like that—that ringed “Mpeh—mpeh—ee.” And you could call. And of course, a lot of people eavesdropped so there was a lot of people knew when you called the doctor. Word got around. But they were an old wall phone. They had what they called a central office in Chilhowie; it was up over where the old bank building is. And she was known to listen in on conversations and know all about everything that was going on. And sometimes she’d get real interested and she’d interrupt and ask a question. Not much privacy to it. JE: So you didn’t have…. It was just you, and [Vincent], and the doctor? There weren’t any midwives or anything? VE: He brought a nurse. He brought a nurse with him. A doctor had a hard time in those times. I mean he went all kinds of weather. He had to some kind of conveyance that would get him out. You didn’t go into his office the way you do in a nice air-conditioned room when you went to see the doctor, he went out to see his patients. JE: Did…and Norman was just born you had him in your bed? VE: Um-hm. JE: Well…with Echo Sales, you were staying at home with Sandy and Norman, but how did you get to the office, how did that work out? VE: Well, with Riverside, it was right…well, most of the times when the children were small it was right there. Now, when we moved to the other end of town, they were both in school. So I’d get them off to the school then I’d go in there. And of course, if I needed to go pick them up I would and take them out to the warehouse and they’d stay with me until it was time to go home. JE: So after school a lot of times they’d go, you’d pick them up and take them back there. How did you…how were you able to keep up the house? You had to do a lot of the cleaning. VE: Well usually—we were closed on Saturday and Sunday, and so Saturday was the time you caught up on the housework—cleaning the house, doing the wash. JE: But that must have been a long day though. VE: Well, we didn’t have forty hours a week work. You started in the morning and you worked until it was dark or the job was done. Like with the…. Well, when you started taking orders and delivering them, you worked a lot of times at night…. JE: You took it home? Well, when it was in a separate building, you took it…? And then you all had to work it when it was at your home. VE: Yeah. Well, of course, there was a time when you had to do all that work in the home. Well, when we built the building at the other end of town, I said “Okay, I’ve had enough of this.” I said, “We’re going to have office hours and we’ll spend them there. When we open the door, they’re free to come. When we close the doors, they have to leave. And we don’t go get them a box of candy at the other end of town just because they didn’t order. And so we stuck to it, and it worked out all right. JE: Is that something you told [Vincent]? VE: No, that’s just what I thought. Well, as I said, by that time, I was pretty much running the business. He liked to sell, but he didn’t care about the bookwork and that type of thing. And so we made a good pair. JE: But he didn’t say anything, he just let you do it? VE: Oh yeah. JE: Was he still gone some nights? VE: Oh yeah. JE: Did you…I mean a lot of people weren’t working outside of the home at that time, a lot of women weren’t. Did you…were you conscious of that? Or how did you view yourself doing the work? Did it just seem natural? VE: Well, for me it was just natural because I think I was just in a field that regardless of what the circumstances I would have still been in basically something of this sort. So it was just natural. And, you know, something comes natural to you, it’s just easier to do it. It’s when you got to do something that you put out to do it. JE: So it didn’t seem unusual to you? VE: Didn’t what? JE: Did it seem unusual to you at all? VE: No. I guess I’ve always been somewhat of an independent type person. And maybe just growing up and having to assume responsibility and being an oldest child, it was just a natural thing. It was never something I had to work at. It was just kind of natural. I was happy and content with it to get into it all. And I like…for quite awhile after we built the building at the other end of town…. [Vincent] did all the buying; the salesman would have to see him. I’d tell them what time he’d be in and when they could see him. And so he saw a lot of salesmen, even at night. And I remember one time, one salesman—he sold sunglasses—and he came and we working out mowing the lawn. And I think at that point we still had a push mower. And Vincent was trying to something and you know what not and I was trying to do something and that salesman kept trying to sell him those sunglasses and Vincent would say he’s not interested and he kept on. And Vincent—he finally got him talked down—and Vincent said “Well send me six cards.” And so then when he was away he said something about me doing the buying and I said “Well now, if I do the buying, I’m going to do it my way.” And that salesman came and I said “Now, I’m not like Vincent.” I said, “When I tell you ‘No’ that means no and we’re going to stop right there.” I said, “I’m not going to say ‘Yes’ later on and you’re not going to sell it to me because I’m not going to buy it.” I said, “Once I’ve said ‘No’ even if I change my mind and think I should have bought it,” I said, “I’m not going to do it.” That salesman and I got along beautifully. He never did hound me. He showed me that merchandise, and I’d say what I wanted. And we just ended up very good friends and good relationship and had no problems. But he respected what I told him. And one time he started, and I said, “You know what I told you.” I said, “When I say ‘No,’ I mean no and don’t go over that mark.” I said, “We’d get along fine as long as you….” JE: Maybe it was good for [Vincent]…. VE: But they could talk…. Salesmen could talk Vincent into it, but they knew that I decided what I wanted, what I didn’t want and that was it. And that didn’t mean I was always right, but that set me a pattern that I went by and they knew. JE: Maybe it was good for [Vincent] that he had you. VE: One time he sold a…I was with him. When we first married, I went with him quite a bit on the road because I didn’t like staying up at the Egbert house. You know, it just wasn’t…. And I’d go with him. We were over in Carroll County and it was close to Christmastime, and I could hear these voices—it wasn’t a terrible cold day because I must’ve had the window down—but I could hear these voices. And I thought, it sounds like somebody’s out of union or something in there. So after awhile Vincent came back out and he was carrying this thirty-pound piece of chocolate box. And I said, “What’s the matter?” And he said, “Well,” he said, “he decided he didn’t want them.” He said, “Well, that’s alright I’ll just take them back.” And I said, “Well, it sounded like he was angry.” He said, “Well, he was.” He said, “You know, there’s something bothering that man, and he said, “It wasn’t just the chocolate bars.” He said, “He just sort of vented out his anger on me.” And I said, “Well, I guess this is the last time we stop at this store.” He said, “No.” He said, “I’m going to come back and see him” because he said, “there’s something wrong with him.” He went back to see him the next time, and he apologized to him for having been so rude and bought both chocolate boxes! But something had happened and he was very upset about that, I don’t remember what it was but he told Vincent that. And he was very upset, and he said, “I really just vented out my anger on you.” And he said, “I apologize for it because you have been very congenial, very nice to work with.” And that sort of thing. Made a good impression. But I said if that was me, I probably would’ve never gone back. JE: It was good for both of you then. VE: It was a balance there. Okay, does that about do it? That’s about all I know about us. JE: Well no, you’ve got a lot more to say, I’m sure. Well, when you were going on the road, you were pregnant with Norman, weren’t you? VE: Um-hmm. Well, it was a natural childbirth; it was a natural thing at that time. It was no big deal. You still had to do your chores, you did your own thing, you did your own washing, you hoed your own garden, and you gathered your crops. Other than children, you just kept on with it. It was a natural thing. Pattern yourself. JE: Even at Christmastime, you’d be pretty…he was almost born by then. VE: Yeah, yeah. JE: Well, what did you think about—well, we talked about [Vincent] for a little bit—what about your romance, the marriage even throughout your life? VE: I don’t understand what you mean. JE: Well yeah, it’s sorta broad. What did—did anything change in it, in the way you viewed your romance? I’ll have to explain, but…. VE: Well, I guess…I guess, we were…. Well, we were just pretty compatible, and we respected each other. I guess we know how far one could take the other before we got out of union too much. That doesn’t mean we didn’t have our disagreements or anything like that but still it wasn’t…it was always that…I guess that with the years, the trying circumstances you had during that time of survival, growing up, that you learned to be more forgiving and the [recognition] of the other’s wants and needs or so forth. You just recognized that. JE: When you were first married, you mean? VE: No, I mean that just throughout our relationship together, it was just that way. We just…husband and wife work together. And of course, for a long time, couples were dependent on each other: the man was the breadwinner and the lady’s part was to take care of the home and the children, so it had to be a compatible type of thing. And you didn’t hear much about divorce. You just stayed through it. “In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, till death do us part” was a vow that you made and people adhered to that. Whereas now they say those words and it don’t mean a thing in the world. It’s just part of the routine and it doesn’t have the meaning that it had. At least, that was my interpretation. JE: But you all weren’t exactly like the breadwinner and you staying in the home because didn’t [Vincent] take Norman and Sandy out a lot of times and stayed with them? VE: Oh yeah! Well, sometimes he’d…well, Norman can tell you there was times he went with his daddy. And soon as he was out of school, he went with his dad, just enjoyed going and helped carry things in. Take a lot of stuff in short if you didn’t necessarily sell them, take it back in from the truck, he brought it…. He was daddy’s little helper. JE: Well, we’re going to jump a little bit more for two things. VE: Maybe we can get Norman in here and figure this out now that we’re getting down in here! JE: But I want to jump a little bit. In the ‘60s and ‘70s, there was the women’s rights movement and the feminist movement. How did…. Well, part of it might have been how you reacted to it, and the other part of it: was there any impact on—that women’s rights movement—on your life? VE: It never bothered me. Of course, I’ve always, I think I’ve just always been my own person. I am what I am and that’s it and it didn’t bother me. And I didn’t…it didn’t matter whatever I had to do I did it, whether it was a woman’s job or a man’s job, I did it. Like as I said, I’d go out and cut the tobacco in the field. Daddy’s late getting in, I’d go out and I did everything there is to do with tobacco. I don’t like tobacco, and I didn’t like working in the sticky stuff. But you just…I just our lives were more disciplined. I guess that’d be what I’d say. You just did what you needed to do—some of it you might enjoy, but some of it just had to be done, and you did it. It’s not…I don’t know, women’s rights I believe some aspects of it, I think, they’ve gotten out of control. The husband and wife—it’d be interesting, I guess, I don’t know whether they deal with it in this new movie they’re talking about, about Christ. But anyway, like this thing of gays and all that, you know, that’s ridiculous as far as I’m concerned. It’s just ridiculous, and it shouldn’t even be there. The Bible says “man and wife,” “man and woman” And so this gay rights movement, these gays marrying. That’s not right. From my standpoint, that’s not right. The scriptures—in my interpretation of the scriptures, it’s not right. JE: But um…. Did um, do you remember anything about the…. They look at the, you know, 1960s and 1970s as the second wave of the feminist movement, and then there was the movement to get the right to vote. And if you were born in 1918, you were probably too young when they passed the Nineteenth Amendment, but do you remember anything from your childhood about women voting…? VE: Not anything that really stands out in my mind. JE: Your mother’s? VE: I think as far as my mother is concerned, she…. Mother, my mother was an outstanding person in that she was sort of ahead of all these movements, you know what I mean, she just moved on through things, and so it was just never an issue that I recall at all. You know, if they were not eligible to vote because women, okay; but if yes, then I will because I have that right. But as far as her taking part in any of it or expressing herself about it, I don’t recall it. JE: So do you remember her going to vote? VE: No, I remember her voting, but I don’t remember the first time she voted. JE: I mean when you were younger do you remember them going to vote? VE: No, we never got into politics during most of that, daddy was a Republican but I guess he voted for about as many democrats as he did republicans because he believed in voting for the person and not the party. All of us are still like that today, I go in and I don’t pay much attention to republican or democrat, I just vote for the man that I think will best do the job. And I don’t really care for politics. I don’t like these people who if they’re gonna vote are gonna vote a straight democratic ticket regardless or a straight republican ticket regardless. I just don’t believe that. But I never particularly cared for politics. I know that, I think our method of government has been fine. I don’t like some of the things that are happening today. You know, with television and exposure these days, they talk out both sides of their mouth at the same time. They say what they think this group wants to hear and what that group wants to hear. I think it’s an important part of our society. I would like to see it more as it used to be. You just…as I often say, my daddy’s word was his bond. If he told you he’d do something you didn’t have to have a piece of paper signed that he was going to do it. If he said he was going to do it. Whoever he dealt with if they knew Mr. Meredith, they knew that his word was his bond; he didn’t need a signature to make it out. And I often said that daddy would have crawled on his hands and knees, he would have done it to keep his word on something. It was very important to him that if he told a man he’d do something, he’d do it whether it was easy to get it done or not he’d do it. JE: But do you remember when you first voted? Do you know? VE: Well, I guess I voted when I became eligible to vote. As I said, I never, I don’t like politics. I just don’t like them. People talking the way they think the most—what would get them the most votes rather than expressing their convictions. They just want the votes. And then they get in office and then some of them do a good job, and then some of them shouldn’t be there. JE: But you still vote? VE: I still vote. I don’t necessarily vote for everyone that’s on the ticket. If I don’t like either one of them, I don’t vote for either one of them. Some of them’s like this: up here, down here. JE: You could always write in yourself! Did um…. Okay, we’re going to do another jump, I guess. What about the changing technologies like household appliances that came in, how did that affect your life? VE: Well, yours was slow in coming because we didn’t…well now mother just had a Maytag washing machine, I guess it was a gas motor. You know, that was a big step forward. You know, a lot of people didn’t have that; they were still washing on a washboard. You got to have a water pipe from the spring to the house. Some people were still going to the springhouse and carrying the water in buckets. They were conservative and they didn’t waste money. But then they liked to move along and progress as society and civilization allowed them to. They didn’t want to stay back in the Dark Ages in other words. If it’s available today and you could afford it, you’d have it; if you couldn’t afford it, you did without it. Like if you didn’t have a bathroom—we didn’t have a bathroom for so long—my mother used to say well if you’re dirty and want to get clean, you get clean with a teacup of water. You don’t have to have all this water to get clean. If you want to be clean, you can get clean with as little as you can get by on. So we never…. It didn’t make any difference if someone else had a radio, for example, and we didn’t have one. Now when we were in West Virginia, we had electric lights, we had electric power. When we came here to Virginia, we did not have electric power; we had oil lamps. It took my parents a long time to realize that I had a deficiency in sight. I couldn’t see. One of the first times I remember—daddy, I could hear a cowbell, and at that time in West Virginia, cows were free just to roam and find grass where it was. I hear this cowbell, and I said something about the cowbell. And daddy said, “Listen, that cows just across the river cropping the grass.” And I couldn’t see it. And well he really got kinda aggravated with me, but he said, “It’s right there; I don’t see why you can’t see it.” And I said, “I just don’t see it.” And then when I started school, and I was in, I guess, probably second grade, maybe third grade. Of course, as I said, mother had taught school, and she had this teacher for a meeting. Anyway, she told her that I had a deficiency in sight and I needed glasses. She said, “I’m having to sit her up, right up to the board in order for her to read.” They had not been aware that I had a problem with vision up until that point. And at that time, I guess since Eldin was a baby—my brother was always… [inaudible]. The company doctor see he was going over to Bluefield and he told mother and daddy, he says, “Let me take her over there and get her eyes examined and see about getting her some glasses.” I will say—and this may sound like I’m bragging and if I’m bragging here, then that’s all right—but both my parents were of the caliber and character of people that they were admired and respected by other people, and they were looked up to. And so little old shy poor me went all the way over to Bluefield with that man. And I was so excited because I thought you know. And I remember they put the drop in your eyes and you had to put something over them and I couldn’t see. And one of them fell off and I didn’t know how to get it. A woman said, “Honey, that fell off your eye. I’ll put it back up.” And she did. But my first pair of glasses was just—it was just like a whole new world opened up to me because at last I could identify. Everything I was seeing evidently was in just blobs, blur blobs, because my eyes. And so that just opened up. And I always loved that doctor because he was…you know, many doctors don’t take a child. I guess at that point I was eight or nine years old. JE: So you were the first person…? VE: Then when I, when we moved to Virginia, and I had to have my glasses changed, we went to someone in Bristol. And they were a little—well glasses a lot like we wear today—a little round. Got my glasses back and I kept telling them I couldn’t see through those glasses. They said, “Well, you know, it takes a while to get adjusted to a change.” “I just cannot see through these glasses; I cannot see through them.” So finally, they decided well, maybe they ought to check on them. And I don’t remember how we went to Bristol I guess daddy had a car at that time. Anyway, they took it to Bristol, and the man said, “Well no wonder the child’s been having trouble with her glasses. Her lens has been put in upside-down.” JE: Were you the first person out of your immediate family to have glasses? VE: None of…. Well, now later on, mother and daddy with age, they started wearing glasses. Kenny wears glasses. I don’t recall that Earl had them. Earl did later on but that was more an age. Eldin never had glasses. JE: So what about...you told me last night about learning to drive a car, did? Where you had to learn to drive a car? VE: I don’t remember I decided or Vincent decided—I think Vincent decided I needed to learn to drive a car. Of course we lived in that little house in Riverside. JE: So it was in the early ‘40s? VE: Yeah. I have pictures of Vincent holding [Norman] as a baby. I’d drive the car in the parking lot of the church. He’d watch me, and he’d tell me to do this and that. Just gradually, gradually learned to drive a car. JE: So why did he say you needed to? Did he give you a reason? VE: Why? Why I needed to drive? Because we had children, and he was gone so much, and it was necessary for me to get the children to the doctor. And of course it became, well, just a practice that women drove. It wasn’t unusual that women drove at that time. Of course you had to use that clutch all the time, every time you had to shift gears in that thing, you had to use that clutch. And using that clutch and using that brake and learning to do it just right was difficult. But anyway, that’s how I learned to drive. Of course, at one time.... Our car was even the one he worked out of. I mean on Sunday if you went anywhere, you had all that stuff still in there. Sometimes well if we went on vacation or something, well then he would take it all out and then he’d put it back in. JE: What about when you moved into Chilhowie? Do you remember any particular—your stove, your washing machine or something that helped you out or you were particularly happy to get that you didn’t have before? VE: Well, I guess the thing that stands out in my mind more was that little house needed so much work done on it. And that again was just right up my alley. And I’d get magazines, and at that time, magazines weren’t full of all these pull-out cards and advertisement stuff—you had some meat on them, you had meat on them pages! But a lot of the ideas and suggestions on how to do things. And for example, [Vincent] and I, we built our picnic table and benches. We built those. We got a pattern. Daddy had the woods at that time, so we got the lumber from him. We had to go out and get it. We built that. And then that lounge chair—I’m talking about out there at the picnic shelter—went over to the junk yard and got an old bedspring and worked out and figured that out. And of course, it was oak lumber, you couldn’t drive a nail through it, and we had a terrible time with it. Had to get screws and put it together. And then we just took different projects. We remodeled the house. When we first moved into that house, there was a chimney standing right up through the floor—of course where a stove one time had been. So everything in that house has been pretty much changed. And so those were just projects we got into over a period of time. But we just enjoyed it. You tried to take vacations, tried to do things that were enjoyable for the children. Go to the circus. Now, when I was growing up, mother and daddy’d do us that way. The circus came into Marion. It used to come in on the train, and people would get out all along the way to see the circus come into town. Now if the corn needed to be hoed, then you’d get up extra early.... [End of tape] JE: Okay, sorry about that. VE: I’m going to quit talking so much so we can get through. JE: No, that’s okay. You’re doing really well. Thank you. Do you remember what magazines they were that you got your patterns out of? VE: Better Homes and Garden, for the most part. Better Homes and Garden used to have a lot of good ideas about building things, and about decorating your home. And then we had some awfully good carpenters that were skilled, and you could pretty much tell them what you wanted them to make you and they could pretty much fix it for you. Just like your daddy talked about my towel thing, you know, a carpenter or I guess that little place you have for that towel rack in here. Well, like my dough board in there slides out. See, but they were skilled carpenters. Like they put a new roof on the house and we had a rainy season like we had this year, and he said, “You know I believe we could put that new roof under that roof that’s up and then take that roof off.” And he did because it had a real high head on it, I don’t know what it was. Some of that skill, you don’t have today. You do it all by machine. JE: Well, I know you’re really interested in your computers; I know you’ve gotten into them. How did you first or why did you first get interested in computers? VE: Well again, I said that’s just a part of me. I’m self-taught as far as the typewriter is concerned. As I said my friend went to school, and she let me have her books, and I took her books, and I learned how to type. And computers again, it’s just part of my make up. I guess anything mechanical like that. JE: Do you remember when you first got—when you first heard about them, when you first got interested in them? Do you remember when it was? VE: Now what? JE: Do you remember when you first got interested in them? VE: Probably when they became available. Of course, typewriters have been around for a long time. JE: Typewriters. So it was just kind of a new...I mean how did you first view them? Was it just a new type of typewriter? A better way to do those things? VE: Well, you know, there was great improvement in typewriters as time went along. Of course, I didn’t have one of the first ones I guess, but I certainly didn’t have the most expensive when I bought it. Of course, usually you’d just go within the price range. JE: Was that mainly why you were interested in it, just so you could type things on it? VE: Well, as I said, it’s just a part of me. JE: Do you remember when you bought your first one? Was it that a Commodore? VE: Well now, they were manual. You didn’t have any power hooked up. Everything was manual. If you wanted to slide the keyboard, you did not by hand. You didn’t use a button. But I’m glad they made improvements on it. I’m glad they got rid of having to shift gears on a car. On different cars, the clutch and the brake would work differently. JE: Do you remember when you first bought a computer? The first computer you bought, when that was? VE: Well no, not really. Computers have been out for a while, I’m sure. Of course, as I said, the first one I had was just the barest of necessities for the business. But I don’t know. JE: But you’re still learning on them too? VE: Just like that today—that message on it. Some things I like about some of that, but some of it I don’t. I think one of things to me that’s frightening on them is that you could lose your identity. People are finding ways to get into the things that are private and that you do not care about everyone knowing about. Just like now, I heard about someone getting something because I hit the wrong button and giving out the wrong information or uncover something that I don’t want to uncover. I guess that’s the reason I go, I hit that delete key. Every time I turn that on, I got so much stuff there, and I just delete delete delete. JE: The last one’s a little strange, but...were there any—and this person has suggested—were there any moments of truth in your life? I think what they’re wondering: were there any major crises, were there any moments of truth, were there any times when you stopped and rethought any of your roles? VE: Oh, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. The moment of truth—I related it to you the other day—it goes back to early childhood that has stuck with me throughout my life and that’s when I got curious about the matches, and I told you about that. JE: Curious about the...? VE: Matches. About my striking the match. Okay, the moment of truth for me goes back to that point. This is when we were still in West Virginia, and I came here when I was ten years of age, but this was when I was much younger than that. My mother had stepped next door to a neighbor's, and for some reason, I can’t remember why, but I was fascinated something about matches. And the matches were kept out of my reach because it’s dangerous. But we had a stool and I pulled that stool over to the cabinet, and I stepped up on the chair, and up on the stool, and then up on the cabinet. Do you know what I’m talking about—the old kitchen cabinets had shelves up here and then had a place down here. And I stepped up there and I got up there and got those matches. And it was like the boxes of matches, loose ones you got, not the ones you tear out. And I struck that match, and I guess it’s something maybe the light from it that fascinated me, I don’t remember. But it was something that I was curious about. Well, mother came in and she said, “Violet, what were you doing with the matches?” “What matches? What are you talking about?” She said, “You were in the matches.” And she gave me a little talk about why they were put up, about how they could burn my clothes, could catch fire and burn up. And I had lost a little friend with—well then they called it “colts” but it was colitis and diabetic. A lot of children died at that time because they didn’t have the treatment. And I had experienced what it was like to lose a friend. So she told me about these matches that could have caught the house on fire and burnt me up. And then I had seen a house burn, and that still stood out in my mind, I can see that house burning and that awful feeling I had. But the truth of it was...it came out that my mother was so smart that she even knew that I had struck a match and she wasn’t even in the house. And then to go and talk about it. How did she figure out how I was able to do that? And then of course later, she said, “Well, you had your little tracks where you—” Said, “You moved the stool first of all. Had the tracks to it.” Said, “Them matches had an odor.” And so that was my moment of truth. I thought then, “Don’t ever try to get by with telling anything but the truth to mother and daddy.” And so—as I said my daddy—I don’t know how he came to his moments of truth—but daddy was so honest. He would never—if he had a cow and he needed to sell that cow and he could get a better producer. He would tell you exactly what production you could expect from that cow. He wouldn’t stretch it one iota. He would tell if there was anything wrong with that cow. So I grew up with—that’s part of the rich heritage I have. JE: Were there any times in your life when you were conscious of yourself as a woman and thought about your role in that? VE: It’s never bothered me. I think I’ve always gone along with the idea that a woman had her place, and she should not put herself in the position of the man, especially husband and wife. He says something goes, you talk it over, and you honor him as head of the house. Of course, I’m pretty much opinionated and self-willed and so I’ve changed [Vincent’s] mind quite a few times. But the truth for me—for conscience sake now, truth is important to me—I can’t—I couldn’t sleep until I’ve confessed something I felt I’ve lied about. Truth is part of my heritage. Now it’s hard sometimes to have to face the truth. JE: Looking back now, do you have any regrets or disappointments about anything that happened or anything that you wish you could have done? Any ambitions that were left unfulfilled? VE: Well, I would have loved to have pursued the education. I would love to have that opportunity. As I said, [inaudible]. And of course, as I look back now, I realize before we were ever aware of it that mother’s mind was taking a turn. So that she became so dependent on me. Well, I just couldn’t go because she was sick. Of course, she just had a stomach ulcer—[o]k well, you know that wasn’t, it was uncomfortable but it wasn’t a life or death situation. I guess that’s one time I had a little resentment. I felt that I was so disappointed because I wanted to go on, and I couldn’t move ahead. I was made to feel being the oldest child, I think a lot of times I had to assume responsibility. If Earl had been older, he would have taken the role, but as I was the oldest child, a lot of the decisions of the rest of the children came from me down. I guess in that situation, I’d rather be a boy instead of a girl. JE: Did you ever feel that you didn’t have a lot of choice or control? How do you feel about the degree of choice and control you had and what your life would be, the direction of your life? VE: Well, early like with the schooling, that I did. JE: You thought you didn’t much control over that? VE: No, I had no control. They just said I couldn’t go and that was it. But as far as the rest of my life is concerned, I can only think of blessings. I’ve been so blessed with a mate, with children, with my family, with the church, I just feel like God has richly blessed me. So I don’t care. I never cared to be, I never aspired to be President of the United States, for example. I think women’s rights has let women move ahead into a lot of things that I still think that as God would have intended it, it would still be in the role of the male instead of the female. JE: You don’t think a woman should be President? Is there any reason? VE: No, I don’t really. I don’t say she should be, but for personal preference, I would prefer…I think that to me there’s more stability in a strong male and his convictions than there is in a woman. I see some of them and I think they’d be better to step down and let the men have it. Some of these women may be down on me hard to hear me say that. No, I’ve never aspired to ever think that I’d want to take over what I’d considered a male role. Like if God called them to preach and if God really called them to preach, a lady minister, but I prefer a male. And yet I’m sure these are very fine women, I feel like there’s other places they could serve And I see something on television, some of these women and I thought, it doesn’t seem natural the role that they’re playing. It doesn’t look natural. It’s unladylike and I just don’t care for it. That’s just for me; that’s just personal opinion. I think that we have a strong role as women, but I think there are places where they should say this is a man’s role. Now, I don’t mean that you should bow down and do everything a man says to do, but nevertheless let the man have. After all, they can lift a load women can’t physically, so why not men? JE: Maybe women having a stronger role? VE: Well, I just think God intended it that the man is the head of the house, and the man should hold that role. And they should be subservient to the man. I don’t mean be a salve, but I mean respect and be willing to take the job down here rather than wanting the one up here. I don’t know whether you—do you think that? JE: Do what? VE: How do you feel about it? How do you feel about women taking over? Would you want a lady for President of the United States? JE: Well, this isn’t my history. This is your life. VE: Well, I know it. But you don’t have to have that on tape. But what I’m saying is that’s just the way I feel about it. JE: That’s fine. There are no wrong answers. VE: Now, I had a lady who was principal of school, but I liked it much better when a man was principal. Of course, one man we had, he should have never been in elementary education. He had a brilliant mind, but he could not identify with the level of a young teenager; he was beyond that. In other words, you had your assignments, and if you didn’t get them, that was your fault. He wasn’t going to tell you what to do. He sit up there in front of the class, but he did not. And he had been a college professor. JE: But other than going on to Marion College, there weren’t any other regrets? That was the only time you felt you didn’t have a choice in what you could do? Everything else has been a blessing? VE: Nothing seems to…. As I said, I’ve just had a good life and a rich life, and looking back, I won’t say that I haven’t made mistakes, but I’ve learned from those mistakes. And I just feel like that I’ve really, truly been blessed. And my walk with the Lord has been with me through the years and my conversion experience and walking in the Christian faith and then the assurances I’ve had of God’s love and His miracles. I don’t know what people do without God. That to me is the top of the ladder for me, just Christ and his teachings and trying to follow his teachings. I don’t know whether I told you this, but with my surgery—of course we went through Vincent’s and had experiences there because his was touch and go a lot of times. It could have been cancer, and it was not. But you know I started—when they told me my heart was bad and I needed to have surgery, I decided that I didn’t know if we had any business messing with—if men or people had any business messing with the heart because the scripture talks so much about the heart and that’s almost like sacred ground if you think about the interpretation of the scriptures of the heart. Well, I decided I didn’t know maybe man’s gone too far and he’s interfering too much, and he doesn’t have any business messing with the heart of man. And so I decided not to have my surgery. And as I went—the men, two doctors, they talked to me, and they told me you know with this surgery you might live fifteen years; without it, you might last six months. And I said, “Well, I’m at peace with my life and my relationship with God and so forget it.” And they started out the room. And it just came out—didn’t think about it, it just came out—I said, “I guess I’ll always have one regret.” That top surgeon turned around and said, “What’s that?” I said, “Well, my children will never be able to understand why I decided not to take this surgery.” He said, “How many children do you have?” And I told him. He said, “Where do they live?” And I told him. He said, “Can you get them here?” I said, “Yes, I can get them here.” And he said, “Well, you get them in here. We’ll have this talk.” So, I made the arrangements, and they came in. I lay there, and I listened to the children as they asked their questions. Children and in-laws and heard the doctor’s answers. And then all at once, a peace came over me, and I thought, “Violet, what are you worrying about? Your life is in God’s hand. If He has something else he wants you to do, then you’re going to come through this all right. If not, then he’s ready to call you home and that’s it.” With that in mind, I said okay, I’ll have the surgery. And I wasn’t a bit worried about it; I wasn’t a bit concerned about it. And Ray mentioned to Sandy going home, “I don’t understand your mother. She seems to be completely relaxed and doesn’t seem to be worried about this at all.” She said, “Well, she’s turned it over to the Lord.” And that’s the way I’m living today. I told my children, I said, “Don’t worry. If you come in and find me gone, that’s fine. Say ‘That’s the way she’d like to have it.’” I said, “If I have to suffer, I have to suffer. My life’s in God’s hands.” Then just more recently, and then this is going to be the end of this interview. I had gotten…let’s see if I can remember where to start and not make this too long. I had on some earrings that were good earrings, not five or ten cent store, but good earrings. And I was down at the pool, taking my exercise, and all at once, I reached up and one of my earrings was gone. Well, I hadn’t been anywhere but there in that dressing room and then out at the pool and then back in the dressing room. I couldn’t find that earring, and I was just real upset about it, and I told Mildred, I said, “Mildred, I’ve looked everywhere but feel around in the back of my sweater and see if you can find that earring.” And she said, “Well no, I don’t see a thing.” And so I just lost it, I don’t understand what in the world happened to it. Went on home, worked on around the house there for a while, thinking about that earring and out on the porch. And I said, without thinking, I said, “Lord, please help me find that earring. I know it’s just an earring, but I’m so upset about it. Just please help me find that earring.” And no more had that gone through my mind, now I wasn’t thinking…I thought, “Violet, what are you doing? Leave this to the Lord, not to you, to dictate to Him what to do.” And so then I believe I said, “God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I bothered you, I know it’s such a little thing when you have so many things you have to take care of. Please forgive me. I should not have bothered you with this.” Well, that settled it for me that made me feel better. I apologized to God. I’m standing on the back porch. I went…stepped up into the kitchen, and as I passed the refrigerator, right there at the counter. Now, I’m just walking through and I haven’t touched my body, and I hear “Plink,” and I look down and right there lay that earring. And the lesson I got from that, what I think God intended me to have. He said to me then, “Violet there’s nothing too small for you to come to me about. I’m here, I’m ready to answer, so always feel free to come to me, but let it be my decision.” So that’s the way I live now with that truth that God has protected me. And I said, “When I get to heaven”—I know that Vincent was a Christian, I know that his conversion experience was real—“When I get to heaven, I’m going to have to apologize to him. Because I did not”—and I said I know I’m going—and I said that I’ll have to apologize to him because I did not realize that he did so much. I thought I took care of everything. And I miss him so, and so many things I think, “Well Vincent took care of this. Vincent did this. Vincent did that.” And yet I wasn’t doing it all. He was my—I was his helper. So I miss him. No regrets. JE: No regrets. VE: Anything else? Does that wind it up? JE: That’s it. |