Mike Slone

Mike Slone… “There’s no “a” in there. We couldn’t afford the “a.” (Referencing the spelling of his last name). Lives between Mousie and Blackey, in Knott County Kentucky; 
Dulcimer Maker and Coordinator of the Hindman Dulcimer Project:

“I was born up the street here. I couldn’t tell you the building, but it was a doctor’s office. It was Dr. Barker. He delivered me, delivered my wife, and delivered our first child. 

The doctors would go out and basically just do a circuit and drive by people’s houses. I guess it was more convenient for him to get and drive around than it was for the people, especially if they were feeling poorly. 

I’ve done all kinds of things. I actually have a degree in Biology that I’ve never used for anything. I like to think of myself as a student of Appalachian culture, and I came at it sideways. 

One year in high school, back then we had teachers who would actually teach stuff instead of the test, and this teacher had something which I’ve really come to appreciate, which is an appreciation for what we have around here. So, she assigned everybody in the class to look up their family tree. I got to looking up the family tree, and this was before there was the internet so I was digging through books and all that stuff. I got to thinking about that, and running across little tidbits and stories about my family. That was almost 40 years ago, and ever since then I’ll go through phases where I’ll get into the family tree research, every 10 years or so. That started me on the path to really appreciating the culture here. 

Then I went off to college. The only place I could afford to go to college was Alice Lloyd. Alice Lloyd just furthered that because, at that time, and I’m sure it’s still like that now, they didn’t specifically teach it but there was the tradition of value to the stuff around here. That really reinforced it. I got out of college, got that big fancy degree and got a job in the Post Office. And after that, through WMMT I got involved with Appalshop. You talk about some place that really appreciates the culture here. It just solidified the whole thing. Sometime back there when I was at Alice Lloyd, I made a dulcimer in a class. It was one of those easy added classes. It was one night a week and you come out with an A and a dulcimer. I made one then and that was in the early ‘80s. In the early ‘90s, somehow I got inspired to try making dulcimers again. 

I bought a table saw. I had a power drill and a sander, and that was about it. And it didn’t cut it. I made three or four, I’ve got one left, I gave one to my daughter, and I don’t know where the others are and I’m not going to look for them. It just didn’t work. During that phase, I had the pleasure of meeting Homer Ledford, the well-known dulcimer maker from Winchester. Two and a half years ago I saw this little news piece on the Internet. John Trusty was the Executive Director here then and he was talking about wanting to see Hindman once again become the center of dulcimer making. I had just finished up a carpentry job, so I thought; I’ll just go try again. I came down and signed up and the dulcimer thing just snowballed. People would come in and tell us stories.

The mountain dulcimer has a long history here in Knott County, dating back to 1871. A man named Uncle Ed Thomas, as far as we know, made his first (lap) dulcimer then. A lot of people copied his pattern, one them being a man known as Jethro Amburgey, who had a distant cousin named Jean Ritchie. Jean, in the late 1940s went off to New York City and introduced the mountain dulcimer to the world. 

The goal of (the Hindman project) is to re-introduce the mountain dulcimer to the people of this area. It had pretty much died off here. We want to bring it to the attention of those folks here that we own that heritage and it is important to us and to the world at large that Hindman be known worldwide for the mountain dulcimers. We’re collecting oral histories, we’re doing building workshops and we have a dulcimer festival once a year. We have a wonderful little mini museum exhibit here with pretty much the history of the instrument all contained in one display.

The most common shape in the world that Hindman is famous for is (the dulcimer) shaped like an hourglass. Someone in one of those dulcimer books that came out in the ‘60s said, and it even read like in a bashful voice, it’s shaped like a lady. 

It’s a quiet-sounding instrument, at least the traditional ones are. Nowadays they make them a lot bigger. A lot of modern dulcimer players try to make them sound like guitars, but the old, traditional dulcimers are quiet and lonely sounding. It’s more of an instrument to sit out on the porch in the evening and play those old tunes on, rather than to play square dances. 

A traditional dulcimer from this area has three strings. There was a tradition around Galax, Virginia, and nowadays, modern dulcimers usually have four strings. The Galax dulcimers had four. But most of the old ones, especially from this area, only had three strings. And you only play one string. 

The tuning pegs are wooden pegs. They’re like fiddle pegs, basically. A lot of people don’t like them. They are hard to tune, and if not done correctly, tend to slip out of tune at inopportune moments. They look better. That’s the whole look of the dulcimer; those wooden pegs. 

I’ll tell you our best shop story. My friend, George Gibson has two Uncle Ed Thomas dulcimers. George called and said, I’ve got two Ed Thomas dulcimers and one of them is in pieces. Wonder if you could repair that for me. Of course, after jumping up and down and saying whoopee, I told him yeah I think we can do that. He brought them down the next day and I happened to get snowed in up in the holler where I live. I didn’t make it in that day George came in and I came in the next day, drooling over the dulcimers. George was telling Doug Naselroad (Appalachian Artisan Center instrument studio director and master luthier) this story that the first written record of a dulcimer in Kentucky, that a man in Virginia named Eli Boggs built it for a young lady over in Eolia, Kentucky. Doug said, wait a minute George; my great, great, great, great grandfather was named Eli Boggs. So Doug told me that story, and I said, now wait a minute Doug, I’m kin to the Boggs’ on my mom’s side. So I went home and got my sister to look it up, and the same Eli Boggs is my great, great, great, great grandfather. Stuff like that keeps happening here.

We like to put it that history just walks through the door on a regular basis. 

I would have never known that Eli Boggs had made dulcimers if George hadn’t come in with that tale from Bud Phillips (Regional Historian). 

As far as we know, the mountain dulcimer is the only instrument that is totally indigenous to the United States. It’s considered to be a descendant of the German, that part of Europe, commonly called a scheitholt, an instrument that the Pennsylvania Dutch probably brought over with them. We have one of those in there in the museum we figure is at least 200 years old. As the migration down the Great Wagon Road, the Shenandoah Valley, as that happened, and probably in Pennsylvania, too. The Pennsylvania Dutch started intermixing with the Scots-Irish ancestors. There’s no separating truth from fiction when you go back that far. Everybody’s got ideas about it.

My favorite idea is that the scheitholt didn’t have an arranged fret board or finger board. Frets were embedded directly into the body of the instrument. And somebody put it, well, you know Pennsylvania Dutch, they were playing those old, slow songs, and the Scots-Irish wanted something they could dance a jig to, so they put a finger board on it so they could whack the hell out of it and get some more noise out of it without wearing the instrument out so fast. 

The lap dulcimer made inroads in the folk scene. Jean Ritchie got it started in New York, playing there. It got picked up here and there. The Rolling Stones had a couple of songs that they used the lap dulcimer in. Steel Ice Pan had dulcimers in several of their songs, and of course it made it out to the West Coast. 

Traditionally, the dulcimer is fretted diatonically. You don’t have every note in the scale in there, so much like a lot of the old-time banjo players, you would have to re-tune so you could get all the notes to your song. They stuck an extra fret in, and kept it at the same tuning and started playing chords on it and all that weird stuff. I think Joni Mitchell did some dulcimer. A modern musician is Cyndi Lauper who plays a lot of dulcimer in her stuff.

No matter where you go in this country, I think you’ll find people that are descended from people here in the mountains. During the early pioneer migrations, a lot of them would stop off here, and the smart ones are the ones that ended up staying here. You know, hillbilly jokes are the only politically correct joke you can make any more. 

We just have that sense of home and that may be the problem with a whole lot of the country. People don’t have a sense of home or belonging. We’ve got that sense of belonging here. We belong to each other and share values. 

We know who were are more than most people do, but everybody’s always searching for their own identity. That’s part of the beauty of the culture. You go somewhere else and you run into a strange person and most people think, that’s dude’s strange, kind of funny, but strange. Better stay away from him. But around here, the stranger they are, I think the more we treasure them. 

All over the country, there are probably very few people who don’t have a bloodline running back through here. I think too, even though hillbilly jokes are okay, and there’s that stereotype, they wouldn’t pay so much attention if they didn’t think there was something to this.

I guess I embrace the word “hillbilly.” It’s okay if I say it, but if you ain’t from around here, watch your tone of voice when you say it.

I think maybe one of our strengths is that we can laugh at ourselves, and embrace that, see the truth in it and on another level, resent the fact that people can’t see past that stereotype, like Jed Clampett. They wanted Jed to be the stupid, stereotypical hillbilly, but Buddy Ebsen refused to do that, and Uncle Jesse (Denver Pyle) on Dukes of Hazard. They wanted them to be the stereotypical hillbilly, but when it came down to brass tacks, they were the smartest men in the room. 

How to pronounce Appalachian? As Eve said to the snake, you get down or I’ll throw this apple at ‘cha. Anymore, when they mispronounce it, I just shake my head. I hear people around here doing it. I heard it on the radio the other day from someone I thought knew better. That’s their problem. It ain’t mine.“

Kevin Howard

Kevin Howard, Banjo Player and Music Teacher; Whitesburg. Kentucky:

“I guess I’m a banjo player, mostly. I teach banjo and play banjo. I actually just got a record deal with June Appal records so I’ll be having a debut album out this fall. The title is, Crossing The Line. I’m 32 now, and I started (playing the banjo) sometime in my early twenties, I can’t remember the exact year. 

I had a roommate whose fiancé at the time had a banjo, so I just started picking it up when I’d see it around, and it kind of came naturally, so I thought, maybe I should get into this. 

Spent years in my room just sounding wild, not really knowing any songs, but knowing some licks and that. Then I eventually met an old feller named George Gibson, and my buddy John Haywood and they kind of straightened me out a little bit and gave me some direction. I don’t have any formal training. Don’t believe in it (although) I do make a living giving formal training. If I could be honest with most students, I’d tell them to learn the basics, and then sit in your room and be alone with it. 

My great-grandpa was a banjo player, and all of my granny’s brothers are musicians. But as far as us younger members of the family, I’m about the only one (musician). I guess it skipped two generations, or so. 

Mountain music is honest. If you want to get down o the roots of American music period, you gotta go back to old-timey and mountain music and just the fact that it’s based on tradition. This is an oral tradition that’s been passed down so long that we don’t even really know who wrote most of these songs, but we know that they are our people and we’re going to keep on doing it. 

It’s a great format for telling a story. There are countless old ballads, and most of them don’t end to happy. They say if the song is over, and the girl’s still alive, it probably wasn’t an old-time tune.

Trying to be a musician in the mountains isn’t very easy. If I didn’t have a lot of support from my family, and the ways that I am making a living didn’t exist back then. A bunch of us mountain musicians have created a way for us to make a living. I’d say falling in line with that, and trying to make this place a healthy place for artists to live.

I think if you really get right down to it, you can look at us (Appalachians) and maybe people down in Mississippi and the Cajun country, are some of the only people who have really held on to their culture. It’s seems like everything’s gotten real plastic. You hear about Americanization, but it seems like people are just raised by their TVs. Around here, there’s still some real stuff you can latch on to. 

I think that (the stereotyping) goes right back to the people who believe everything they see on TV. I believe the negative stereotypes have just been exacerbated beyond belief, and you’d have to come here to see that ain’t really the case. It seems like every other day we get some reporter or somebody coming in here and they’re not trying to interview people who are actually doing stuff in the community and trying to be positive. For lack of a better word, it’s poverty porn. They just want to come in here and show the poorest of the poor, and have the rest of America perceive that we’re all on welfare. 

I believe no matter where life and the world take me, this is home base. Right here in Whitesburg. Home means familiarity…family, comfortable surroundings. A lot of people will consider their house their home, but I think this whole county is my home. I feel like a space alien everywhere else.“

Judith Vermillion

Judith Vermillion, Age 84, Artist/Painter/Photographer and Cook; Whitesburg, Kentucky:

“I live up on Solomon, just a little holler right here behind us. Been living in that same house since the ’57 flood. My age? I don’t mind. I’m proud to be there. Mother always said it’s better to have birthdays than to not, so I’m 84, going on a 117. I go to the rec center every morning, still walk two miles a day, tote them bars, lift those weights, all that stuff. Maybe it is (the secret to) my longevity. Maybe it is. I just don’t know. As far as my health goes I feel very fortunate. I’m a lot healthier than most of my buddies are. I try to eat right unless I don’t want to. I drink a lot of water and I try to behave although I have got in trouble before. I consider myself fortunate. I do. 

I grew up in a coal camp about 10 miles away from here. It’s called Secco, initials for South East Coal Company. When I was a teenager we moved to Whitesburg. I’ve been here ever since. I got married right out of high school and raised a family. I was widowed. He had a heart attack, an afternoon thing, no warning. I had to get a job right fast. I had to learn to drive, first thing. So we, me and my son, did a paper route. We did a morning route and an evening route. We lived on that. Then I opened a custard stand. I did that till the highway came along and took it (for a new road). 

After that I ran restaurants, half a dozen different ones here in town and around. In the meantime, I did art here and yonder. I always did art of some sort. I did art as a child. We all just did art automatically. The whole family did it. We didn’t even think of it as art, we just did stuff, that’s what we called it. We quilted and I did some paintings. Then I tell people I took a fifty-year break, then I started painting again. I did a lot of the barn quilts you see around town. I think I’m over fifty something with the barn quilts. 

I took up photography a long time ago. I use the computer, a scanner and a little Wal-Mart camera, a little $100 thing. I tell people you don’t need to have much, know much. You just need a push button (shutter button) and a delete. I’ve about wore that delete button out. I just have two rules to go by, I like it or I don’t like it. If I like it I keep it, if I don’t like it I delete it. That’s about all I know about photography but it’s fun. I’ve been doing it off and on forever, however long forever is. I love flowers of any sort, nature scenes, vegetables, just whatever comes along. Never know what I might see this evening. You never know what just might be out there. 

Living in the mountains, it means everything. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve had brothers and sisters, other family members who have moved away, got big educations and all that but they weren’t a bit happier than I was. I doubt that they were ever as happy as I am. I wouldn’t swap with them for nothing. I like it right here. I plan to stay right here as long as the good Lord lets me.

The mountains, they’re green when they are not white. This winter the white ones just about did us in. I’ve heard people say who live away from here, when they come into the mountains for the first time they felt closed in. I just feel hugged. I consider it a blessing to be in the mountains. They are so protective of us. We don’t get the storms and the winds and the tornados and the floods as bad as they do. 

I have a big garden this year. It’s one tomato plant in a pot on the front steps. Its got a few little tomatoes on it right now, some ‘bout big as your thumb. I’m happy with that. It’s my total garden for this year. It’ll be good one. It makes an awful good tomato sandwich. I take care of that big garden all by myself. I weed it. I water it and everything. 

Jobs are the problem here in the mountains, just not many to pick from. No jobs around here. Its just demolished us around here. It really has. I do a lot of volunteer work around here. I work at the food pantry a lot. It is unreal how much the need has increased at the food pantry over the last year. 

I still drive. I had a little Geo that was 23 years old until about two or three weeks ago. It died out there on a curve. It just died so I got me a new little car, so I said, if it lasts me 22 years I’m gonna buy me a Cadillac. When I get old and gray, you don’t know what I might do. The children are always telling me why don’t you do this or why don’t you do that. I always tell them that when I get old and gray I might do that.

Folks are friendlier here. You don’t hardly see anyone you don’t nod to, grin at or say howdy. Away from here they just don’t do that. They think you are up to something if you speak to ‘em. People outside think we are ignorant. We’re not ignorant. We might not know everything but we are not ignorant. There is a difference. I don’t know what else they (outsiders) think of us. I’m not one of them so I just don’t know. When I hear someone mispronounce Appalachia I think they don’t know everything either. They might think they do but they don’t.”

Moses Owens

Moses Owens, Maintenance Supervisor, Hindman Settlement School and Part-time Handy Man; Garner, Kentucky:

“Been here at Hindman Settlement School as Maintenance supervisor since September ‘85. Before that I worked at a roofing company and did odd jobs, which I still do. I tried the coal mines once. Went back in one and didn’t like it. Was digging coal out of an old coal bank one time and the rocks caved in on me. It locked my head under a rock. That’s when I figured that the coal mine wasn’t for me. 

Growing up in the mountains was a lot of fun. It was an adventure, was for me. People around here are more common. They’ll talk to you more than people away from here will. My brother-in-law went to Indiana. I went up there as a kid and stayed with them awhile. Tried working in Detroit for a while. Detroit ain’t for me. Worked for a roofing company. Missed the people back home. The city was different. Everything in the city is different. I never did like the city. It was like I was lost. People wouldn’t talk to you. Everybody was in a rush. I was always a country boy. 

I usually work 12, 14, 16 hours a day… daylight till dark. Don’t have time for much else. The mountain folks are hard working people around here, they sure are. Used to love to hunt, squirrel hunt, coon hunt, fish, used to love to fish. Just don’t have the time any more. Most folks around these parts play music. The hammer, I just play the hammer (LOL). 

The settlement school here where I work does a lot of good for the community, the dyslexia program, Family Folk Week, the Writers’ Workshop, we have people come here from all over the country and different parts of the world sometimes.

This is a beautiful area, peaceful and quiet you know. Not much violence around here you know. 

I like being called a hillbilly. They call folks from Indiana Hoosiers. I’d much rather be called a hillbilly. TV portrays us as dumb, backwards and stuff. That’s not true. That, I don’t much care for.

One of the saddest times in my life was losing my dad. He was a miner and a veteran of the Second World War. He was part of the landing on Normandy. He drove a tank. He served until the end of the war, came back and worked in logging and mining. Dad served with (General) Patton. He always said Patton was a crazy man. He took me to see the movie (about Patton). He told me the portrayal was pretty good although they didn’t show all of it. Dad said they were a little kind to him in the movie, that’s what dad said. 

Now folks are leaving this area (because coal is down). Lots of homes for sale around here. Coal has always come and gone, big slump in the fifties. It boomed in the seventies and again in the nineties. Now it’s really down. It won’t come back this time. I’m afraid it’s over this time.

We need industry around here for one thing. We are always shipping logs other places. Whatever they do with them where they ship them, why couldn’t they do it here? They could make furniture here with the oak and hickory we have here. There are folks that could afford to invest money in these communities if they would. But getting them to do it is a different story. They’ll invest money in Lexington or Louisville or some other place. Why not invest it here? Something sure needs to be done for the community… it sure does.

The downturn has caused drug problems around here, mostly prescription drugs. I think the doctors around here could put a stop to that if they would but they won’t.”