Storytelling in Jonesborough

It has been a busy, busy month, with storytelling oozing from my pores. Performing, writing poetry and meeting with a pack of word-hungry poets, pushing towards the finish line with my suspense novel Swampwoman, plus the necessity of earning a living keeps me running the track at a steady pace.

This morning I was on Cumulus radio in Washington County, TN with Carl Swann and Bob. I was early - an hour early--imagine that! Bob came out of the studio saying, "Saundra, there's a double rainbow, do you want to see it?" Did I??? I ran with him, but by the time I got to the big window, heavy clouds misted over and we could only see the bottom. Do you suppose I saw the spot where the pot of gold is buried?

White Oak Resting Tree - a story

Not long ago, I was searching the internet for stories about sacred trees/ancient trees/old trees, when to my surprise, a wonderful story popped up. In it, reporter Claire Galofaro wrote about an old white oak tree that was said to have graves at its base, and the tree was literally in my backyard! Well, not really, but it does stand just up the road about thirty minutes away.

I tried to meet with Ms. Galofaro, but it just wasn't to be, so we communicated briefly via email and I have continued to research the old tree and its legend since that time.

My interest in old trees has been a long time coming: my grandfather was a timberman who worked with the teams that stripped North Florida of nearly all its old-growth trees back in the 1920-30's. It pained him so badly, that although he spoke of it frequently, he would never take me to see the "last cypress tree," until I was 13-years-old.

When I saw the tree, it changed my attitude towards the natural world forever. It was literally, the last one of its kind left standing. He told me, "We thought they would never end, but when we came to that giant tree, we realized what we had done and couldn't cut it." That tree stands now, surrounded by thousands of young trees, and my story about it is on Legends of the Wild: Tales of North Florida, my CD, which you can order by contacting me at saundrakelley@hotmail.com.

In the last several years, I've followed up on other old trees with interesting stories to share in oral performance, including the Resting Tree. To think that in the 1800's slaves often had no sacred place for burial; to know that an old man risked everything to save a crippled child who never walked,and then buried him under the white oak when he died is precious and should be remembered. That old tree stands still, in Bristol, VA, on appropriately named, Resting Tree Drive.

According to Galfaro's contacts, the old tree is between 375 and 525-years-old now. Can you imagine the stories it could tell? That it was saved in part due to the graves nestled under its spreading arms is a miracle, and to know those graves will not be disturbed nor that old, old tree cut down to make way for progress, is truly inspiring.

I will tell that story in conjunction with several other's at 7pm Tuesday evening, March 1st at the Cranberry Thistle in Jonesborough, TN as a performing member of the Jonesborough Storytellers Guild.

Healthcare and the uninsured

I sit on the board of a downtown clinic for the unemployed/underemployed and uninsured. I just got an email telling me we are in danger of losing our health clinics all over America - this, in the worst downturn in our history. It should come as no surprise: many Americans panicked at the enormous spending that was necessary to keep our country on its feet recently, and in fear of losing all of their cozy eggs, swung the pendulum the other direction. Now we are in the hands of some free-wheeling politicians who have no fear of putting folks out of their homes and onto the street, and denying healthcare to those who need it most.

Remember the "trickle down" theory? It should be re-named "suctioned up." Go to one of those clinics and you'll see folks who have tried hard to get healthcare and finally found it at the clinic. I know - I am one. I am an uninsured American with two degrees who gets her healthcare at a downtown clinic. Without that clinic, I would essentially have no healthcare, especially now that emergency rooms routinely turn folks away who simply need to be seen and haven't got a doctor.

Don't let this happen in America - keep those clinics fully funded and take the money from some place in the upper strata of our society, not the bottom.

Hyacinths are up

I felt so elated this morning when I saw the beginnings of the hyacinths peeking up through the soil. For once, we have no snow on the ground here in Jonesborough, although the white stuff is predicted to fall tomorrow. Oh, well, I suppose we can deal with it since that good old ground hog predicted an early spring. Just the thought of it makes me smile.

Southern Appalachian Storytellers: Interviews with Sixteen Keepers of the Oral Tradition, edited by Saundra Gerrell Kelley, is available on Amazon.com in soft cover or electronic, or through www.mcfarlandpub.com.

Appalachian Storytellers

Last Saturday, I went to breakfast at the Farmer's Daughter with five friends - storytellers all. Located between Jonesborough and Greeneville on HWY-107, it's a big, family-style restaurant serving excellent, country food. I knew about it and even thought of going a couple of times, but they don't take reservations and one look at the wrap-around lines was enough to send me elsewhere. Breakfast, however, was another matter.

It was a snowy day - is there anything else in East Tennessee right now? and very cold, but we piled into Valerie's nice little Subaru wagon and took off on our adventure. What we got was delicious food in a rather plain dining room. Crockery, flatware and real mugs warmed the heart, and when our staffer filled out cups with rich, dark coffee, things started warming up. You can't get that many storytellers in one place and not have a bit of entertainment...

We were a varied lot: me from north Florida and now east Tennessee; Valerie from Nashville, Kenny from Texas, Marjorie from Michigan, Teresa from California, Mary from Oregon - all as different as can be, but united in our curiosity and love of story.

Now, the food: eggs cooked your way, grits, hashbrowns, bacon, sausage, ham, sausage gravy, fried apples and apple butter, biscuits and pancakes. Finished, we staggered over to the Mountain View store to shop for Amish cheese and bakery goods and kept the good times going for quite a while. I noticed, however, that on the return trip we were very quiet...

Death in Arizona

Life is so raw now. Perhaps it always has been, but being snowed in for a week, plus having a nasty sinus infection has left me at the mercy of the news. I no longer watch TV, but NPR is my constant companion, giving me what I feel is a more level-headed view of the world than some of the networks. This week, however, I have heard numerous comments about a troubled young man named Jared who managed to gun down an awful lot of people in Arizona, killing some, injuring others and frightening all. That he aimed at a congresswoman who has managed to survive is amazing; that he killed an innocent 9-year-old child interested in serving her country saddens me almost more than any of the other losses.

Right now, I am listening to the soothing voice of President Obama addressing a memorial service. He and his wife are there to help heal the deep cuts produced by hatred. I pray for his success.

Why must we make it so easy to own guns? Why are we so afraid? Must we, too, own a gun so we can finish off those who come after us? Will that make it right? I doubt it. At least when nature kills it seems to be mindless; there's nothing mindless about the murders we have seen in the last few years. Surely love for one another and the love of the Creator should lead us away from violence, open us to greater generosity and bring true peace. Maybe that's not in the works for human beings.