Crapalachia: A Biography of Place

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There were 13 of them. The children had names that ended in Y sounds. That night I couldn’t sleep so I got out Grandma’s picture books and I learned about my blood and the names that ended in Y sounds. There was Betty and there was Annie and there was Stirley and there was Stanley and there was Leslie and there was Gary and there was Larry and there was Terry.

Ruby said: “I like names that end in Y.”

They all grew up in Danese, WV, eating blackberries for breakfast and eating blackberries for lunch and watching the snow come beneath the door in the wintertime. Holy shit it’s cold.

There was my Uncle Stanley who I never heard say anything except “sheeeeeeeeeeeeet” and who I saw at the hospital one night talking to this other guy about how the state of West Virginia was making people wear a helmet now if they rode a 4-wheeler. He was all pissed off about it and told the guy: “I mean they’re gonna let them bunch of queers get married now, and I can’t even ride my 4-wheeler without a helmet on.”

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