By: Keith Kappes
Columnist
Carter County Times
(Reprinted by request from January 2015)
Seeing and touching the “dinky” locomotive at the old Hitchins school brings back memories of growing up in that community in the 1950’s.
Any kid who ever lived in Hitchins knew about the Dinky Hill which rose a few hundred feet behind the “Blue Camps”, our neighborhood’s name because all of the company-owned houses originally were painted blue.
Folks who lived on the other side of the Dinky Hill were in the “Clay Camps” and the other housing area near the company’s coal mines at the end of the same ridge was called the “Coal Camps”.
A new road eventually took vehicle traffic over the summit where we had camped, built forts, played war games, chased wild game, ran from snakes while picking blackberries and pretended we were explorers on the highest mountain range.
My preference was the side of the Dinky Hill that was closest to home where we could hear Mom calling us to supper. Even then, I tried never to miss a meal.
We had a nifty rock cliff to climb, despite the occasional snake enjoying the warm, sunlit surface. We even used ropes tied around us like real mountaineers.
We once tried to send smoke signals from the rock ledge but were too slow and the blanket caught fire. I don’t recall how we explained the hole in Granny’s blanket, but I do remember how we put out the fire.
I liked to camp where we could see the back porch light that Mom always left on when we were “mountaineering” on the Dinky Hill.
That light meant safety, food and a warm, dry bed when it rained.
Most of all, it was my connection to the person who gave me life and loved me unconditionally – even when I didn’t live up to her expectations.
That was long ago but many times over the years I’ve found myself looking for that porch light.
(Contact Keith at keithkappes@gmail.com.)
