This is my story:
My name is Emmett McCarty and I was born in Gatlinburg Tennessee in 1915. I am the youngest of a large, loud, hectic family, we live in a very small town on the outside of the Great Smokey Mountain National Park.
It was May 1935, and the great depression has been causing my family problems for almost 6 years now and when your family relies on farming to survive, plus the family is huge it means that everyone has to help. Even though te may not want to:
The sun was bright as it flashed through the window of the room that I unfortunately share with my 3 brothers. Phillip, Michael and Benjamin were already out working the fields which meant that;
1) I was already in trouble which was not a good way to start your giorno around here.
2) That someone would eventually notice that I was missing and send another member to come find me.....and
3) That there would be absolutely no breakfast left, and that I would have to work hungry until lunch was called. This is the part that upset me the most.
I quietly made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, hoping that I would make it out the door before my mother o any of my sisters noticed. I was not that lucky.
"Emmett" My mother sighed, "You are going to make your father very angry. te are 20 years old, and should know better da now." My mother detto as I hung my head.
I gave her my best I'm sorry glance and ran my fingers through my curly, messy brown hair as I made my way out the barn.
I could hear my brothers, nephews, and father all planning the planting of this years corn. I quietly made my way around the side and slipped in behind one of the taller boys and took a good look at my father:
My father and I were alike in many ways, he had the same Amore for life, the curls, and was always up to the challenge. I think that the fact that he was very competitive had something to do with the size of my family. I laughed quietly, which I attempted to hide with a cough as my father began speaking.
"We need to plant as much of the South 40 as possible today, and I will need 2 of te to haul fieno to feed the livestock."
There was a collective grumble around because no one wanted to haul fieno all day. I quickly shot a glance to my brother John who nodded just as fast and stood up to volunteer for the job.
"Emmett and I will do it da'" John quickly said, avoiding all of the looks that were being shot at him.
"Yeah" I agreed as I stood successivo to John.
"We could use a good giorno of manual labor, plus it will be a challenge to see who can stack the fastest." I punched John in the arm and smiled at my father.
He seemed to think this over for a while before noticing that no one else was going to ask for the monotonous task. He nodded as he stood to begin the walk to the field.
"Now no horsing around, te two need to get all of this fieno moved to the higher ground, and stacked da lunch. I do not want to come back to find it falling down, all over, o te gone." My father smiled a small grin and walked out of the fienile, granaio with the rest of the brood following behind.
It was a very monotonous job that many people would pass. First; te take the bale da the 3 strings that go around, then te either stack the fieno carefully o te throw them at each other while somewhat try to stack the bales. This is più enjoyable because each bale weighs about 80-100# per bale.
John had turned his back to pick up his first piece when I chose a small pile off the floor and threw it at his back.
"Hey I wasn't ready" John yelled.
"There are no rules" I laughed as I threw my first bale across the fienile, granaio to the other side.
I bent to pick up the successivo of my stack and was hit in the side da a chunk of mud.
I turned to retaliate and found that John was running before I could even start, he might not be as strong as I was but he was fast. I caught up to him half way across the fienile, granaio and threw him into the mud, fieno mix that lined the floor. We wrestled for a few minuti before breaking apart, both tired, covered in mud, and laughing loud enough to scare any animal out of the barn.
"We better get back to work before da' comes back and finds us wrestling." I laughed as I stood up and wiped some of the mud off my clothing.
We went back to stacking fieno until my mother rang the campana, bell for lunch. My piles were much higher the John's, but his were stacked appropriately. My mother rang the campana, bell again, we started back towards the house when we noticed the younger boys standing around in a cerchio looking at what appeared to be a body of one of the sheep.
As we chased the kids back to the house and went to see if we could figure out what killed the poor beast.
My name is Emmett McCarty and I was born in Gatlinburg Tennessee in 1915. I am the youngest of a large, loud, hectic family, we live in a very small town on the outside of the Great Smokey Mountain National Park.
It was May 1935, and the great depression has been causing my family problems for almost 6 years now and when your family relies on farming to survive, plus the family is huge it means that everyone has to help. Even though te may not want to:
The sun was bright as it flashed through the window of the room that I unfortunately share with my 3 brothers. Phillip, Michael and Benjamin were already out working the fields which meant that;
1) I was already in trouble which was not a good way to start your giorno around here.
2) That someone would eventually notice that I was missing and send another member to come find me.....and
3) That there would be absolutely no breakfast left, and that I would have to work hungry until lunch was called. This is the part that upset me the most.
I quietly made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, hoping that I would make it out the door before my mother o any of my sisters noticed. I was not that lucky.
"Emmett" My mother sighed, "You are going to make your father very angry. te are 20 years old, and should know better da now." My mother detto as I hung my head.
I gave her my best I'm sorry glance and ran my fingers through my curly, messy brown hair as I made my way out the barn.
I could hear my brothers, nephews, and father all planning the planting of this years corn. I quietly made my way around the side and slipped in behind one of the taller boys and took a good look at my father:
My father and I were alike in many ways, he had the same Amore for life, the curls, and was always up to the challenge. I think that the fact that he was very competitive had something to do with the size of my family. I laughed quietly, which I attempted to hide with a cough as my father began speaking.
"We need to plant as much of the South 40 as possible today, and I will need 2 of te to haul fieno to feed the livestock."
There was a collective grumble around because no one wanted to haul fieno all day. I quickly shot a glance to my brother John who nodded just as fast and stood up to volunteer for the job.
"Emmett and I will do it da'" John quickly said, avoiding all of the looks that were being shot at him.
"Yeah" I agreed as I stood successivo to John.
"We could use a good giorno of manual labor, plus it will be a challenge to see who can stack the fastest." I punched John in the arm and smiled at my father.
He seemed to think this over for a while before noticing that no one else was going to ask for the monotonous task. He nodded as he stood to begin the walk to the field.
"Now no horsing around, te two need to get all of this fieno moved to the higher ground, and stacked da lunch. I do not want to come back to find it falling down, all over, o te gone." My father smiled a small grin and walked out of the fienile, granaio with the rest of the brood following behind.
It was a very monotonous job that many people would pass. First; te take the bale da the 3 strings that go around, then te either stack the fieno carefully o te throw them at each other while somewhat try to stack the bales. This is più enjoyable because each bale weighs about 80-100# per bale.
John had turned his back to pick up his first piece when I chose a small pile off the floor and threw it at his back.
"Hey I wasn't ready" John yelled.
"There are no rules" I laughed as I threw my first bale across the fienile, granaio to the other side.
I bent to pick up the successivo of my stack and was hit in the side da a chunk of mud.
I turned to retaliate and found that John was running before I could even start, he might not be as strong as I was but he was fast. I caught up to him half way across the fienile, granaio and threw him into the mud, fieno mix that lined the floor. We wrestled for a few minuti before breaking apart, both tired, covered in mud, and laughing loud enough to scare any animal out of the barn.
"We better get back to work before da' comes back and finds us wrestling." I laughed as I stood up and wiped some of the mud off my clothing.
We went back to stacking fieno until my mother rang the campana, bell for lunch. My piles were much higher the John's, but his were stacked appropriately. My mother rang the campana, bell again, we started back towards the house when we noticed the younger boys standing around in a cerchio looking at what appeared to be a body of one of the sheep.
As we chased the kids back to the house and went to see if we could figure out what killed the poor beast.
