In 1989, when my sister Doreyl and I returned home to Jackson county,
we came to walk the old roads, to see the sun shine through the trees,
to begin to live the dream we'd been talking about for years.
We came, with full purpose, to conduct creative writing and visual art
workshops in the schools, and found that the children were receptive
to the stories we told of growing up in the mountains. We had been
away from home 30 years, and it was obvious to us that the heritage
passed down to us by our family was slowly
eroding. Our parents had passed away; our grandparents had passed away; we were the eldest ofour generation...and we felt something must be done or all the Front Porch stories we’d been told as children would be lost. So we setout to establish an organization that would encourage others to honorand save the local mountain heritage through creativity—our
forefathers had established that heritage by being creative—we wanted to follow in their footsteps. Thus, the nonprofit organization Catchthe Spirit of Appalachia, Inc. was born in 1991. There's an old saying that the one who sees a cardinal will have good luck. So, the cardinal became our logo. Doreyl drew it the same way she drew it as a child,with open wings and flying toward the sky.
As a historical fiction writer, I knew how much writing
novels about my family had helped me to acknowledge, understand and value them. My sister, as a professional artist, had accomplished much of the same with the depth of emotion in her artwork. We began as a team—I told stories with my sister spontaneously illustrating them. We found that many of those who listened to the stories felt as if we were telling their stories as well.
Working with the children, we learned that we must also reach the parents, so we began a new effort—encouraging recognition of our unique local heritage though community festivals. Individually, Doreyl began visual art lessons privately while I conducted creative writing lessons in my home. Together, we have now cooperatively published 22 books for other writers.
Not long after we returned to Jackson County, a local woman, Joy Phillips Hoyle, come to see me about her poetry. She had written page after page of memories that had materialized in rhyme. I stayed up most of that night reading Joy’s work. I laughed, I cried, I smiled
through all of the pages. At our next meeting, I asked her if she would write a few vignettes about her childhood to go along with the poems. She didn’t think so, she said, but she would try if I thought she “was any good.”
And now, two books later, Joy Phillips Hoyle, is still writing. Her first book “Beneath the Balsams,” tells about her childhood at the head of Caney Fork in Jackson County, and the second book, “Handed Down, Then Passed Around,” reminds me of a mountain philosopher, passing on the experience of yesterday intermingled with thoughts about life today. I would like to introduce to Joy Phillips Hoyle from her own hand, as it is written in
“Beneath the Balsams.”
Growing up in the late 1940's, 1950's, and early 1960's, I was so satisfied with my way of life that I considered myself neither rich nor poor. I do know, however, that family ties and values were so strong in my life that I had what we all yearn for today and so few of
us have...peace of mind.
Being raised at the head of Caney Fork at Beech Flat was the perfect setting for the chance to learn the four areas of development—emotional, physical, social and cognitive—in a way that set the mold for my future as a Christian wife, mother, grandmother
and caregiver for children. It was here in this remote area (considered remote even to people who lived only a few miles away) that I gathered hands-on experience in having a happy, productive life.
Emotionally, due to my upbringing, I felt secure and had trust in others. Physically, I learned that hard work brings appreciation of its results. I watched my mother and daddy work in the fields; and I knew the satisfaction of working beside them. When Daddy pulled off
his boots at night, I knew the muscles in his body must have ached from logging in the woods long hours to support his family. Also, I watched my mother dig, scrub and cook—and then make clothing for her family hunched over a pedal sewing machine.
But it was not all work. Walking to and from Camp Ten with my armload of books gave me free time to think. And that time grew when I rode on the long bus ride from the old school at John's Creek on Caney Fork, and then when I grew older, from the high school at Cullowhee.
Socially, I learned to understand the needs of others and importance of independence. Cognitive, I learned how to solve problems at a young age and how to be creative, such as pretending to play a piano on the old homemade ironing board. I learned the importance of using what I had to be happy and productive,
Our parents and our way of life instilled in me and my three brothers—Warren, Weldon, and Kay—and my sister, June (all of whom were older than I), these important aspects of development.
Two years ago something strange, yet wonderful, happened to me when my only surviving brother had to move from the old homeplace. I suddenly realized no one in our family would be living at Beech Flat...ever again. To deal with this vacancy, for the first time in my life, I began to write. In fact, the words began pouring out, falling onto the paper in rhyme. Then, and only then, did I realize I had a book, a feat of which I had never dreamed—it just happened.
For those interested in Joy’s books, you can reach her at
828-586-6129, or you can write to her at 1055 Blanton Branch Road,
Sylva, NC 28779.
In 1989, when my sister Doreyl and I returned home to Jackson county,
away; we were the eldest 
Growing up in the late 1940's, 1950's, and early 1960's, I was so satisfied with my way of life that I considered myself neither rich nor poor. I do know, however, that family ties and values were so strong in my life that I had what we all yearn for today and so few of