In Search of Ed Haley
10 Friday May 2013
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10 Friday May 2013
Posted in Ed Haley
03 Thursday Jan 2013
Posted in Harts, Pearl Adkins Diary, Women's History
29 Saturday Dec 2012
Posted in Harts, Pearl Adkins Diary, Women's History
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Appalachia, Cora Adkins, history, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, love, Pearl Adkins, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
“My dear, dear dream boy came one evening,” Pearl wrote in May or June. “He stayed all night. After supper I was sitting on the porch. Cora was out there. My heart dearest came and sit down at my feet. He talked to Cora of first one thing then another. He changed the subject all at once and asked Cora if the doctors thought there was any chance for me ever to walk. I don’t remember the talk for I felt slighted and hurt. To think he would sit at my feet and then ask some one else about my walking powers, if there was any chance of me ever.
“Well, I spent another sleepless night for he slept in the next room. I can now see him as I write next morning at the breakfast table. I looked across the table straight into those clear but sad eyes — those eyes which sent the blood over my neck and face to burn my fevered brain. He is gone and left a heavier heart and a sadder face behind him than was there when he came. I don’t guess he ever thought of the joy he brings to a sad and lonely woman when he comes or even dreamed of such a thing that I loved him. Well, I don’t care if he ever knows. I love him just the same.”
26 Wednesday Dec 2012
Posted in Harts, Pearl Adkins Diary, Women's History
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Appalachia, Cora Adkins, culture, Dr. Guthrie, Fed Adkins, history, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writing
“Well, it seems that after all I might have a chance to get well,” Pearl happily wrote the following May. “Cora went to Huntington to Dr. Guthrie and told him my history. He said it was a strange case — that he couldn’t tell whether there could be any thing done with me without he could see me. He told her a certain time a board of doctors met at his hospital and, if they would bring me down there when they met, it would be a good chance to have my case studied. And among so many doctors some ought to learn what was the matter with my back. They took me under examination for three days. They took Xray pictures but all of it didn’t bring to light the cause of my troubles. Doctor Guthrie told Papa he could on the third day evening take me home and he was going to study a while longer on my case. The doctor told me to come home and whistle, sing and be a happy girl that he might have good news for me in a few days.
“I came home but I wasn’t happy, but prayed to the Heavenly Father has I never prayed before. I prayed to him to give the doctor’s knowledge to learn the cause of my troubles so they could doctor me and by the help of God I would get so I could walk. I prayed with all the knowledge the Lord give me to pray with, but my prayers were in vain. At last, my verdict was read. It read me a cripple for life. Oh that terrible news. I remember the morning I received the news. It was such a bright sunny morning and to receive such news on such a bright day I would just about as soon it would have been my death sentence for it wouldn’t have been much worse to think of leading a life so hapless as mine. Oh God, I don’t know how I ever went through that day with such sorrow as mine, for all hopes of happiness were blotted out forever. Dr. Guthrie went so far as to advise Papa not to spend any more money for he didn’t think there was any use to while I was as well off as I was, for some doctors would experiment on me. Where they might do me good they could do me a lot of harm. While it was bad, it wouldn’t be any thing to compare with a wracking body of pain. While I don’t hurt, let me be, he said. That all seems like a dream now. I only wish to my Lord above it had been a dream.”
24 Monday Dec 2012
Posted in Harts, Pearl Adkins Diary, Women's History
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Appalachia, Cora Adkins, culture, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, love, Margaret Adkins, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, West Virginia
“Alone on Xmas Eve with my thoughts centered on my one love,” Pearl wrote. “I was thinking of writing to a friend. Some folks came in. He was with them. They were all enjoying their selfs, all but me and I couldn’t help but be sad. He was looking rather sad, too. He walked around and after a while he said some thing about his girl. They laughed about her and he said, ‘She’s one of these girls that can talk.’ And, ‘I don’t like a girl that sits in the corner and smokes and talks to the cats.’ Well that caused a loud laugh but no one ever knew the wound those thoughtless words caused on my tender heart. No one shall ever know till I’m through with this life. There was no more pleasure for me that evening. He went away not knowing the hurt feelings he left behind or cared as little as he knew I supposed.”
“He come early in the morning and stayed till late in the afternoon — but he stayed in the next room,” Pearl wrote later. “Oh God, what I have to suffer just to think he was in the room and I didn’t have the strength to walk to where I could see him. What misery is some people don’t know, but if they were in my place they would soon learn. For instance, if some of you was in love and in my standing and in love and not a single hope of him ever being in love with you. If it wasn’t who it is I would have some hope, but as it is I’m in despair. What would you do, dear friend, if you were like me? Do nothing as I am doing? I know with out asking but the Lord above may change him and make him love me by and by.”
“We hadn’t any guests all day,” Pearl wrote on a Sunday in February. “Cora and I was setting by the fire. When he came in it was like the ray of sunshine drifting through a window pane on a bleak day for my life was as bleak as the day. Cora was rather friendly to him, some thing she hardly ever is. She asked him where he had been. He told her he was just walking around and thought he would stop in to see them all. He kept eating some thing. She asked what it was. He told her and said, ‘Don’t you want some?’ but never offered me any. I don’t guess he thought of me for I was as cold as an ice burg in those days. But I’m not one bit colder than he is but I’m not much better yet. Dear reader, don’t judge me too harshly for I have enough to bear and enough to make me cold and bitter for I didn’t have any girlfriends to talk to. Cora didn’t seem to care whether I was happy or not then. Aunt Marg had died then and Ma had to work so I didn’t have any one to talk to. All I had to do was to nurse my misery and think I was the most unfortunate girl in the world. You know, while Aunt Marg lived she could tell me of many things which helped to while away the hours. And I never was so bitter till after she was gone. I don’t blame my mother for my growing so hard and cold at life, for her life is a hard life to live any way. Aunt Flor was the only one that ever talked to me. She told me all the news and I liked for her to come. She seemed to understand me, but she didn’t stay much with us in them days. You see, I had a lot of time to keep growing bitter and crosser for I thought they didn’t care any thing about me, whether I lived or died. The Lord only knows what I could have been like by now if a certain thing hadn’t happened. Well, that changed me a little for a while but I soon grew cold again, but not so bad as at first. Kind friend, believe me. I spent a many a sad and lonely day then without one glimpse of happiness only when he came, not to say anything about the ones I spend now.”
20 Thursday Dec 2012
Posted in Harts, Pearl Adkins Diary, Women's History
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Appalachia, culture, Fed Adkins, Harts, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, West Virginia, writers, writing
“They were all gone but Momma and Papa, the kiddies and me,” Pearl wrote in August. “I, like all the other times when alone, go to my meditation again and all the time it’s of him, and only him. I was longing for him to come with all my hungry heart, and he did come. It seems that when I want to see him right bad he is led to come by a higher power to satisfy my heart. Well, I will go on with my story. He come in as Momma called dinner. Pap said, ‘Come on.’ Mr. Nobody smiled and said, ‘It’s been a long time since I sit at your board.’ They said it had, too. I remember well that dinner as if it had been yesterday. It is written plainly in my mind, never to be blotted out as long as memory lasts. Mr. Nobody sit at one end of the table and I at the other. When I looked up from my plate and our eyes met for the first time since I had loved him, the picture he made there with the sun shining through the window on his hair made a fine picture of him. His eyes were like lurking shadows of those on a forest pool, as though thoughts of sadness are always pictured there. He isn’t satisfied no where for long at a time, for I’ve heard him say so time after time.”
“Some body had kind of a social gathering,” Pearl wrote later. “A lot of our friends came. I was so afraid he wouldn’t come but he did just as if he knew I wanted him to come. They all left here together. They were gone till about 11:30 o’clock, I guess. We hadn’t gone to bed when they came back. There was several stayed all night. I can see myself now as I was sitting tilted back in my chair with my feet upon the rungs when he come in. The lamp was on the shelf over my head and so he took a seat facing me again. If his eyes ever left my face I don’t remember it. I don’t know whether he thought I looked good or not, but there was a look in his eyes which I never seen there before.”
Mr. Nobody was among those who slept at the Adkins family home that night, giving Pearl cause for great excitement.
“That was my first night,” she wrote. “I tossed on my bed not able to sleep for the thoughts. Oh boy, it made it ten times worse him being in the next room. If he hadn’t been there it wouldn’t been quite so bad, but believe me dear reader I have spent a many a more nights tossing on my pillow, my fevered brain not able to think clearly. And it was all for the sake of my dear. I’ll call him Dear for he won’t never be any thing else to me as long as life lasts.”
14 Friday Dec 2012
Posted in Pearl Adkins Diary
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Appalachia, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
“Alone in my cuddy with no one near me I and my thoughts are struggling with each other,” Pearl wrote in late fall or early winter. “My thoughts have drifted off in a dream world. They have got the better of me. They keep drifting to that Nobody. In twilight hours my thoughts form swiftly of one fancy and then the other of him. They have woven a strong cord around my heart which seems never to be broken. I keep thinking of him and can’t help it. Aw shucks, he is in mind morning, noon and night. What makes me keep picturing him in my mind — his look, his ways, his talk and every thing about him — and what it all means, I can’t tell. I never thought of any one else as I do him. I can’t account for the uneasy feeling around my heart unless it is, I love him. Oh God, can it be I love him? Lord this has slipped upon me unexpected. Oh what sorrow it brought. It would have been a blessing to any one else, but to me it will eat my heart away. I guess I have loved him from urchin days but never realized it till just now. No hopes what ever of winning his love. God, what I have to suffer and why it is I can’t tell. I haven’t done any thing to any one that I would be chasened for, but God’s will be done. It’s a higher power above that controls our nature. We love whether it’s our wishes our not. I know it isn’t my will to love the one I do. It came with such a shock as if from the streaks of lightning. It shot through my weak body and unnerved me so I haven’t hardly recovered from the shock yet for it was all so strange and new and I’m not quite used to it yet.”
“Winter passed on with her sleet and snow,” Pearl continued, perhaps in the spring. “I care but a little for the wind’s loud roar for I’m near the old fire place. I sit there sadly dreaming of my one love here no more. Aw, I dream of a bright future of happy moments I may spend with him when he returns home. My, the winter is gone before I hardly knew it for I heard every few days some thing of my Ideal man but I didn’t know he was till long after he had gone. As you know from girlhood days, I have had my Ideal for he is the one boy for me by and by. I have pictured my sweet many times — his height, his eyes, his weight, and last of all the color of his hair, but never dreamed of him being in miles of here, but when I did awaken I awoke with a shock to think I had known him a many a long day and had learned to love him very dearly before I knew it.”
“Well, spring is here,” Pearl next wrote. “I have changed places but he is in my mind all the long spring days but I love him better each day and each day that passes I think I can’t love him any better but the dawning day brings on a stronger love than the preceding day. I guess there’s no limit to this love of mine.”
“Spring days are slipping by as if on wings,” Pearl wrote, a little later. “The fleeter they are, the closer the summer draws nearer, the quicker I will get to see my honey for I have heard he will be here about the 26th of July.”
13 Thursday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, Harts Creek, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
“Here comes Nobody,” Pearl wrote in an undated entry. “He has gone again but not for long this time. I guess I will get to see him Friday or Saturday one. This old place is lonesome and dreary. I know I will get to see his sweet face and smiles. They are like the rays of sun shine drifting through the dark clouds (for his life seems as dark as the dark clouds).”
“It was a cold winter night,” Pearl wrote later. “He stopped in a for a while to warm and what he said made me think he would make good some day but that hope was shattered long ago. From what I heard, he had a chance to make good his words but let it slip. But I don’t believe he done the things I heard. By hopes, I mean of him ever having any thing only as he works it out and by day labor.”
“Well, the kid is back for a long stay this time, so I think,” Pearl wrote next. “No, oh no, I am mistaken.”
“Well, the guy has gone to some distant city for a while but he won’t stay long,” Pearl wrote in July. “He likes his friends too well to go away finally and never return. I miss him so much and deeply regret his quick departure. Oh, I feel a sharp twinge around my heart to know it will be weeks and probably months before I see him again. Gee, how I wish he hadn’t gone away.”
“They have been house cleaning all day,” Pearl wrote later. “I have been alone for hours. Some of them may have come out and stayed with me some. How well I remember that day my dress and all — it was a white dress. I thought I looked good or rather pretty in it. I can now imagine how funny I looked in that rig. Ha. Ha. We were eating supper and all of a sudden he appeared on the scene. It gave me such a shock I couldn’t eat any more supper for I didn’t know he was in 200 miles of here. Well, the whole reaon I didn’t eat any more, he came right in and seated his self at the end of the table, facing me, and right beside me at that end and began to tell of his travels. When I would look up from my plate he would be looking at me, his laughin eyes fairly dancing with delight. But believe me, he looked sweet in his new out fit. I would describe him here but I dare not for I’m afraid Cora will find and read this for I’ve heard her say if she was to find one’s diary she would read it. She would sure know who I’m writing this nonsense about. If she does bother her little head to read she won’t know any more than if she hadn’t. Hee hee.”
“There’s going to be a big meeting,” Pearl wrote in September, “so my Nobody heard of it and came back. I’m tickled pink to see him again. We have had lots of company but none I would have rather seen than him. A friend and I were sitting by the window when he passed by. She asked who he was. I smiled and said, ‘The one in a word omitted? Aw, that is name omitted.’ She said, ‘Why, that’s the ugliest boy I ever saw.’ Ha, Ha. I said, ‘I think not. I think he’s the best looking boy round here.’ He has gone back now and my thoughts have gone with him. Oh God, help him. He is in trouble. I hope it won’t be nothing serious. It was just a little word omitted. That is all. Of course, I would rather it had never happened but it has so it doesn’t change my liking for him.”
12 Wednesday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
The third volume of Pearl’s diary is almost entirely void of dates, although it does appear to reflect chronological writing.
“This is Spring,” Pearl began. “This is a beautiful place with its birds and flowers. It would be an Ideal home if it wasn’t such an out away place. I like the inhabitants but don’t like the location of the site with all of its beauty. I don’t want to make my home here forever. Every one wants to be so good to us but for all their kindness I don’t like here by no means. I have a few friends but a very few they are. I have one that’s every thing to me. His name, that will never do to tell. Well, his name will be Mr. Nobody here.”
About that time, Mr. Nobody became ill.
“Spring yet. Mr. Nobody is quite sick,” she wrote. “I have prayed that he might get well.”
“We have had company all day and have had a nice time in the afternoon,” Pearl wrote one Sunday. “Mr. Nobody came and he was so weak he could hardly walk.”
“He is a lot better now,” Pearl wrote in an undated entry. “My, his loss of weight, parched lips and all symptoms of a sick person made a scarecrow of him. He has gone. Wished he had stayed longer. This is the first place he’s gone since he got better. The kid has left and gone some where or other.”
Whatever illness it was that plagued Pearl’s “crush” proved to be of a lingering nature.
“He is sick again,” she worredly wrote. “The Lord knows whether he will have strength to get over this.”
“He’s worse,” she wrote, yet still. “Oh Lord, can’t he never get well? Oh, he is bad — worse, he’s just as bad as can be to live. In fact, there seems to be no better in this life for him.”
And then, to Pearl’s relief, Mr. Nobody’s condition improved.
“He is better after all. If he did narrowly escape the clutches of death, he is well and strong again. I’m so thankful that my prayer has been answered.”
Not long thereafter, Mr. Nobody took off on a road trip, giving Pearl nothing much to write about until his return to Harts.
“Nobody has come back,” she wrote. “My, oh, he looks like I don’t know what with his hair growed out in his temples. He had some pictures made while some where and brought them and showed them to me. They were the ugliest things I ever seen but I told him they were real nice looking and that they looked just like him and that he couldn’t have had one more like him than those were. Ha.”
“Well, he is now back for a long stay,” Pearl again wrote at a later date. “I guess this old place won’t be quite so desolate now. Just to get a glimpse of him makes the long summer days seems shorter.”
11 Tuesday Dec 2012
Posted in Pearl Adkins Diary
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Appalachia, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, West Virginia, writers, writing
“Inez has seen him and has been telling me about him, his sweet talk about a certain girl,” Pearl wrote on Monday. “I couldn’t talk about it to her. I feared she would catch on to my hurt feelings so she rambled right on in her talk but not one word he ever said of me. But Gee, how it does hurt my old heart to know I won’t ever be any thing to any boy unless he should pity me. I guess I’m like a cursed log arousing nothing but pity in the heart of any one — not even the one I love.”
“Sunday morning church service folks have gathered from all around,” Pearl concluded in an undated entry. “How my heart did yearn for him to come but it seems that he was no where around. But my heart told me he was coming. As always, mother had a good dinner. Just about time dinner was ready… Well, I remember I was sitting near the door when footsteps sounded on the walk. I knew his walk before I seen him. He came in and sat down and talked friendly to every one but me. He asked where Cora was. You don’t know what it is to love some body and you never get a word from them. Well, he didn’t stay.”
09 Sunday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, culture, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
Pearl’s second diary concludes with entries from 1928.
“I got up this morning with a calm spirit,” Pearl wrote on April 30. “I knew he was coming. He has been gone so long.”
“My heart. Jesus blessed Jesus, let me get till I can walk for I love and it’s a shame to love and you a cripple,” she next wrote in an undated entry. “It’s dark. I have dreamed of his coming so often I know he will be here soon for I never dream of him till a while before he comes.”
“Diary dear. It has been some time since I have conveyed you a little secret,” Pearl wrote on Sunday, May 6. “You are my constant and steadfast friend. I think it’s so strange the turns life will take. I have long admired a cute little boy but dared not to speak of it to anyone. He’s so young and funny. I can’t keep from hardly falling in love with him. I have teased Inez and told her how much I cared for him, but she took it all as a joke. I just let her think it a joke but I never meant any thing more in my life than that. Inez was telling me about his girls, when I told her to hush. It made me mad to hear of his love making to other girls but she took that as a huge joke. But it really hurt to hear of those other girls being where I wanted to be. But that can never be. He is lots younger than I to start with, but circumstances is another obstacle. Gee, but he is just the kind of a boy I could love for life if I just had that chance. I wonder if he can feel my presence tonight. Oh Lord, how lonely I am tonight. If he were here I would be satisfied for the time being just to be with him. Gee, wish I knew if he ever thinks of me. I would give most any thing to know if he just gave me one little thought to night.”
08 Saturday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, culture, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
“Diary dear, I can tell you many things I can’t no other,” Pearl wrote on October 31. “You keep secrets that no one knows. I’m going to confide in you. I love another. I have said I could no other but one, but I’m not quite sure now. Kindness goes a long way to create love. It’s not good looks. I never knew til now. Oh Lord, what makes me always love some body that don’t love me. But they are so kind I can’t help but love him some but I don’t want to. I never thought of loving him until a certain thing happened. I dreamed so often of him making love to me. Oh Lord, let that love for him cease for I don’t want it ever to be. I want my one I always loved.”
“This is the last day of our beautiful October weather,” Pearl continued. “Many here to day. October month here me. Oh Lord let us all meet again. Goodby October’s bright blue weather and sad the crimson autumn leaves but sadder that one of her sisters was sick. She was fixing to go and leave me dirty and as always my heart told me Dear was coming and I didn’t want to be so dirty. She quarreled at me for wanting to be cleaned up. I cried till my eyes was all swollen up and red. So you see how it is when you can’t do any thing for yourself. You go blank. Well, after I cried she went and cleaned me up but before I got my slipper on he came. It seems that he is always in a hurry. After he was gone I couldn’t help but think of a song: ‘I grieve that ere I met three, Faith fair would I forget thee. Can river thee? Never! Farewell, farewell forever! We have met, and we have parted yet uttered scarce a word like a guilty thing, Started when thy well-knowing voice I heard,’ Oh, how well those words are formed. I couldn’t have wrote my feelings better if I had tried.”
“Sunday morning again,” Pearl wrote a little later. “Word came to Mother as I expected but I never seen him — only his well loved voice I heard. He sit down out in the yard and stayed a long time but being an old cripple I couldn’t go out to even get a look at his sweet face. Oh Lord, how I would like to speak his dear name as I can write it but I dare not for none of the folks don’t like him a great deal. So I love him on in secret as I have so long. Dear boy, I love you — love you as I can love no other.”
07 Friday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, culture, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
The latter portion of Pearl’s second diary closes with a cluster of entries dated from February until June for an unknown year. Thereafter is a smattering of monthly entries.
“No sadder or lonelier day ever passed over my old head,” Pearl wrote on February 7. “It will long be remembered by me. I never have hardly suffered as I did to day. My very heart was breaking. My yearning for what I knew not.”
Pearl was obviously inspired to write by some misfortune, although she never specified the source of her troubles.
“Oh God, what I suffered last night,” she continued the following day. “I cried till I couldn’t cry. No one seemed to notice my sorrow. Physical pain would be better than this some times.”
Pearl’s happiness was at an all time low.
“If I could have courage to go through with what I think of doing so often,” she wrote. “It’s a terrible thing to think of doing but I can’t. That would be far better than to suffer for maybe years on this old world of pain and woe. Lord help me to overcome my weakness of courage. Make me, dear Jesus, have something to want to live for. Oh Lord, help me to bear my troubles.”
It seems, based on the above entry, that Pearl was perhaps contemplating suicide at that point in her life.
“What a storm is brewing,” she wrote later in February. “The wind is roaring in the trees on top of the hill. The storm is on. The rain is pouring but the tempest out side is not much greater than the tempest in my breast. The storm is over. It is the beginning and ending of everything. Now, if I could only walk, my cup of happiness would be running over.”
“Oh, the troubled sleep I had last night,” she wrote the following day, on a Wednesday. “The snow is falling so fast and the ground is covered every where. The beautiful snow. This reminded me of a day some years ago, those short fleeing years for me. I was just a kid then and with a kid’s thoughts my future was beautifully paved then but that was short lived.”
“Today I was sitting alone in the kitchen by the stove with the odor of soup beans going up my nose,” Pearl next wrote in an undated entry. “Mama’s voice floats in on my hearing, singing ‘Shady Grove’ to the baby. Cora is over at Inez’s in bed a groaning with her side. Marg’s wanting a new hat. All of these things is passing through my jumbled up brain. I only wish my good old Friend would come for a talk to me so much. I can’t think.”
06 Thursday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, culture, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
In August 1925, Pearl’s diary resumed, at first with a small upbeat entry.
“Pearl and I all alone talking our secrets,” wrote sister-in-law Inez Adkins on the evening of August 3. “Best friends on earth.”
Following this happy note, Pearl’s writings turned depressingly morbid.
“My last request,” she wrote on August 14. “I don’t feel that I shall be here so very long at the longest. Friends or relatives, when I die, I want to be buried anywhere where the rest of the family is buried. I want a white casket (a coffin will do). Cover it with white satin if you can’t get white. Any other nice white good will do but I would rather have it satin. I want a white shadow lace dress with a narrow white ribbon — not more than four of them. I want a light blue princess slip. If you can’t get the lace dress, get a georgetta crepe. If you can’t get crepe, get white satin. Put two rows of lace up the front and small bows of ribbon up the front too, or you can have streamers at the neck. Get them as near as you can if you are able to buy them. Buy what I said. Buy as near to it as you can. Comb my hair like I wear it in life. Powder me first a little bit. Remember Pearl.”
Then came one of the more powerful entries in the entire diary.
“No, there is not the slightest hope I shall ever be any better than I am now. It is not a pleasant prospect. It is just the thought of it at times that makes me worse. There is days and weeks at a time I don’t want to see any one. My sister tells me it is more my temper than my misfortune that afflicts me and perhaps she is right. I hate people because they expect me to see a blessing direct from God. In fact I am nothing more than a miserable clod on the face of the earth. I wish I could have a house all to myself where I could do as I please. None of them don’t seem to understand me or my way and I need some one to stay with me that could really understand me.”
“We could live an ideal existence,” Pearl continued, shifting the direction of her thoughts toward the object of her affections. “Nothing would please me better. I am sort of death’s head at home. I’m nothing but an annoyance and a burden to mother. I expect they would be glad if I could make a change like that. I could never be with out you. I don’t know how I ever did get along with out you as long as I did. It seems to me my life must have been cruelly empty. I love you very dearly — you have done more for me than talked with me. I think you have very near saved my soul for I was becoming very hard and bitter when you came. God has surely sent us to each other. You must think that my deformety is all I have to bear.”
“When God made the cripple he made the mistake of implanting in the poor deformed breast a heart like that which other people have — a heart to love,” Pearl wrote. “Hush, that is something that ought to be buried as deeply from sight as the heart itself. I am a fool to even give it a breath of air to feed upon. Does one think there is no design in that? Do you believe that I shut myself in these four walls because I despise all the world for its strength and beauty? I am not quite as bad as that. Perhaps it is my physical condition that makes me so very weak…; but I can not endure to look upon his face, to hear him speak in his kindly tone to me to know that the only feeling in his soul is pity; and but for that I should be less to him than the very dirt beneath his feet. Oh God! Do you think there is nothing in such suffering as mine? Can you see no further into it than the mere pain that rocks my wretched body? I can tell you it is ghostly. I cannot bear even to look into his face because I know that I shall see there the pitying smile that has grown hideous to me. To know that it can never be different! That I must be like an accursed log until I die, arousing nothing more than pity in the breast of any one. I should at least have the memories of the past — happiness to feed my empty heart. I could look back and say, ‘I was happy then.’ Oh it would be so much! So much! My life.”
04 Tuesday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, books, culture, Harts Creek, inspiration, life, love, Pearl Adkins, poetry, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
The second volume of Pearl’s diary is filled with entries that specify a month but not a year. Chronologically, it appears a hopeless case, however there are two main clusters of writing periods, from February to March and from February to June. It’s not clear if these are overlapping time frames or if they refer to spring months for different years.
The bulk of the material seems to take place in 1925.
Volume 2 begins on January 30, 1925 when Pearl wrote this: “My heart is just as heavy as on that sad day. I’ve lost almost all interest in life.”
Her dissatisfaction with life more than likely had something to do with her inability to find a companion, which she blamed on her handicap.
“Sunday morning dawned cold and blue,” she wrote in February. “I had a feeling he was coming. I had not long to wait for he came real early. To my surprise he came in and set down so near me that I could have kicked him with my foot. He got up for some thing and when he set down again he set down on a bed that my chair was tilted back again. He was so clost that time his knee was against my knee. If he had only knew how I loved him and how his nearness caused my heart to beat wildly, he might not have set so clost to me and caused me to suffer untold misery. He got up to spit and motioned for a girl that was there to get in his place. Of course, I would have much rather for my darling boy to sit there as her but I couldn’t stand it no longer. I was afraid Cora would come in and see my confused look and guess the cause of my blushed face. As I have said she didn’t like him. Probably would talk about him. I would rather for them all to talk about him than her for she can say such hurtful things. No body likes to hear some one they love talked about. I love him and I can’t help it. Oh Lord, grant my earnest prayer. Cause him, oh Lord, to love me as I love him.”
The mysterious object of Pearl’s affection was clearly the primary motive for her taking up a pencil and recording her thoughts.
“Sunday morning all gone but just mother, Inez and me,” Pearl wrote in March. “I was primping up a little. I had one shoe on and one off when some one knocked at the door. Inez jumped to open it and who should it be but my sweet dream boy who came in smiling so happily and as always sit down facing me again and what causes him to sit down facing me always so clost too I can’t tell. It all happens just as if I had planned it out with him but a higher power rules our feeling. It must be the Lord’s will. I should love [name omitted] but he never speaks to me no more than if I wasn’t in miles of him but I would rather that than pity from my dear for I couldn’t stand it. Well, he didn’t stay long.”
“News of a joyous nature but not satisfying,” Pearl wrote later in March, “but it will be after while. Every little drought is sweetened by… Aw, I don’t know what.”
“Diary dear, you are the only thing I can tell my days and sorrows to,” Pearl wrote even later in March, “but it has been some time since I have told you any thing much of interest.”
In the subsequent months of early summer, Pearl took a break from her diary-keeping, preferring instead to scribble down various items of interest.
“The happier persons are those who don’t have much sense and don’t seem to know it,” Pearl wrote.
Poems followed.
“If to me your heart is true, send me back my bow of blue. If of me you sometimes think, send me back my bow of pink. If for me your love is dead, send me back my bow of red. If you do not wish me back, then send this bow of black.”
03 Monday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
“I got up with a bad tooth ache,” Pearl wrote in August or September, probably in 1924. “Mother got a good dinner and I could feel that he was coming but you see I couldn’t tell. They were all gone but Inez and Watson for Watson is married now. Inez and I are very good chums but I can’t tell her this secret of him, for she don’t like him to very well no how. If she was to know I’m in love with him, she would get real angry and maybe tell Cora and mother. Cora just hates him and she would say things that hurt my very heart, so I had better keep it a secret from all. Mother wouldn’t say any thing but I would feel so ashamed to be where he is at if she knew I love him. Such a thing never entered her mind that I might love some body. If she ever thought of such a thing she never said any thing about it. To go back to my story. As I said, Mother had a good dinner but he never came till evening but he did look good in his blue suit but he never stayed long to my sorrow. Oh my tooth did hurt and so did my heart.”
“Me and Inez have kept house,” Pearl wrote early in November. “They all have been gone all day but the children. I have a tooth ache again. My jaw is all swollen up. Oh Lord, my tooth and jaw. Won’t I be pretty when he comes for I feel he is coming. I do hate to look like this for he won’t think I’m pretty I know — but I do love him so much.”
“He came last night and stayed all night,” Pearl wrote the following day. “It was after supper. We were all sitting around the fire. I was sitting on the bed. He came in and set down beside me just as if he knew I wanted him to. Of course I wanted him to but I blushed to the roots of my hair to have him so near me. None of them ever dreamed I loved him and I don’t guess he did either. I guess God led him to come and to sit down beside me for God alone knew how much I loved him.”
“Thank God my prayer has been answered,” Pearl wrote on Tuesday, November 11. “I see him now coming. Oh Lord, just a glimpse that was all. My sorrow is too deep for me ever to tell. I have loved you dear so long that you shall never know it by me telling it. The wound you have caused on my heart is always about to heal, but if I live and get till I can’t walk I’ll get even with you.”
“All is over and for ever,” Pearl wrote on Wednesday. “Prayers are answered to some extent,” she wrote the following day. “Friday evening is the same.”
“It is a rainy and dreary day,” Pearl wrote on Saturday morning, November 15. “Oh, how heavy the fog is hanging over the field but it isn’t as heavy as my heart.”
“He was passing by and Cora ran to the door and invited him in,” Pearl wrote in December. “She didn’t know how much it pleased me for her to ask him in for I couldn’t do it myself. It seemed that she should like every one but the one I loved. Well, I hope she will like him better in the future for I hate to love some one they all hate but that’s what I’ve done but I can’t help it. I loved him before I knew it. We don’t love or hate as we will but we love as divine power makes us love.”
02 Sunday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
The latter part of Pearl’s first diary is filled with vaguely dated entries spanning from January until July, probably for the year of 1924. Early entries for her second diary seem to fill the summer and fall months of that same time period. Subsequent entries, dated in November and recorded in the first diary, are clearly for 1924.
“Oh dear, it seems that my dreams are coming true,” she wrote one Sunday morning in January. “Aw, how my heart beats with joy to look from my window and see the one I love with all my heart coming after what had happened. Oh, the day is fleeting. Now, it’s gone and he has gone with it. My heart is gone, too.”
“He’s here again,” Pearl wrote on a Saturday and Sunday in March. “It makes my lonely life a few sparks brighter to have him near me if I can’t be nothing more to him.”
“April is here with its birds and its flowers but they don’t make my burdens any lighter,” she wrote the following month. “If any thing, a little heavy to bear.”
“It is raining this morning,” Pearl wrote on a Sunday in May, “making the day dark and dreary for me. I guess my heart is just as heavy as the rainy air. I am alone and thinking of the one that’s dearer to me than my own life.”
“Shadows of the night is gathering dear,” Adkins wrote on a July Saturday. “Alone am I thinking of you. My love will never die for you. It’s all true that I love you. You are my sole thought. If something awful happens I will love you still more fondly for my heart yearns for your presence now while the darkness is gathering fast just as my thoughts are still forming my love still deeper for you. Aw, it’s raining. That don’t make me love you any less for I have loved you for months — might have slipped into years. I’m not saying how many years it has been. I think my love is of too long a standing for me ever to forget now. I’ve tried to but all in vain.”
“Things are just the same as ever,” Adkins wrote later in July. “God grant my prayer that I may see him, my darling, in my sweet dreams. Aw, but he’s nothing more to me than a dream. How my heart yearns for just one look on his handsome face and to hear his sweet voice. I barely see these lines for tears is gathering so fast. Just ready to fall any minute. Jesus, blessed Jesus, stand by me now. Make him love me, oh Lord. Aw, it’s all sad, and the saddest of it all is what it might have been if I only could have walked. Oh God, grant that I may enjoy the pleasures of life that the other girls enjoy. My life has been only one long dark empty dream. Oh, Lord, will my life always be like this? If I could only have died when but a baby. Now, if I had some one to talk to but like always I’m alone. No one cares for me. No one but mother. The rest seeks each others’ company and leaves me alone. Oh God, help me to bear it all. My heart is almost breaking now. Aw, I can’t write any more for my tears are falling on my paper, Shucks, this is all nonsense but I can’t help it.”
Later in the summer, Inez Adkins, a friend and sister-in-law to Pearl, made a couple of entries.
“This sad and lonesome evening finds us alone and together thinking of the past,” wrote Inez on Friday, July 11, 1924, “and God bless Margret, Edward and Wetzel at our feet playing.”
02 Sunday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, culture, dreams, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, Lincoln County, love, Pearl Adkins, superstitions, thoughts, West Virginia
“I had a dream last night,” Pearl wrote in July. “I dreamed he came here and I thought several were here too. They were enjoying their selfs but he didn’t have any thing to say and I thought he was the saddest looking boy I ever seen. He was sitting by the door.”
“I dreamed he was here again,” she continued in a later entry. “He was sad. That time he was handling a pistol some how. I think he was just as sad in my dream as he told me he was. I think them two dreams has a meaning and what it is I don’t know.”
“October is bright blue weather,” Pearl wrote a few months later, “but I could enjoy it if it wasn’t for this sad old heart of mine. But it will rejoice some day by and by. It’s sad so sad for me. I have thought for many many days I would get my one desire but all hopes have fled. But I pray on and on. My prayers have been for those sweet moments when the wonder of your love was fully known. I seem to feel your loving strong arms again and then — I miss you so my darling!”
01 Saturday Dec 2012
Posted in Pearl Adkins Diary
01 Saturday Dec 2012
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Appalachia, Harts Creek, history, inspiration, life, love, Pearl Adkins, thoughts, U.S. South, West Virginia, writers, writing
At that time, Pearl’s head was full of dreams. Based on entries in her diary, she had become fixated on a local beau who made occasional visits to the Adkins home.
“It’s been a many sad and dreary days since I had last seen him,” Pearl wrote on February 6, 1922. “I almost count the hours and minutes of his absence. So why worry? Life is what we make it. Oh dear, when shall I see you again?”
“Oh, you are here,” she wrote later that day. “As I looked up from my work I gazed straight into the kindest eyes I’d ever seen — deep and unfathomable like a well of clear, pure water where my famished soul might drink. His clear sweet voice broke the spell, and I dropped my gaze while the hot blood burned over my neck and cheeks. It has the same affect now as I write this as when it happened. It causes my heart to beat wildly and my hand to tremble so I can’t work at my sewing.”
The following day, Pearl’s thoughts drifted away from romance and more toward her handicap.
“A day remembered by me if by no other,” she wrote on February 7, “but no one remembers me or my lonely life. Shut up here a helpless cripple for all this time.”
Four days later, on February 11, Pearl was stirred to write again about the object of her affection.
“Oh, I wish I could see my darling boy this evening. It seems that every one comes — all but the one I love.”
“Now alone in my little hut,” she wrote on the 12th, “but my thoughts and dreams has wondered to one in a far distant country.”
“He has completely gone out of my presence but not out of my mind,” Adkins wrote on March 14. “He is always with me in my day dreams. He will never be mine but nothing can prevent my loving him forever and ever. I see him now as I last saw him as he stood gazing out the window at the mist and rain. Aw, how he looked and looked as if he was grieving about some thing. He made a sad picture. It makes me cry when alone and to imagine him standing there. Oh God, that could I shut that out of my mind my life wouldn’t be so lonely. I don’t see what makes me always think of him when I know he cares nothing for me. All there is left for me to do is hope and pray for his love.”
On March 29, Pearl wrote, “Oh, what a sweet dream I had last night and I feel that it’s coming to pass. Why shouldn’t it come to pass? Haven’t I suffered long enough?”
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