Folklife Story Archives - West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Violets Make Medicine, Munchies And Memories

Every spring, violets bloom across Appalachia, a carpet of purple, white and yellow. These unassuming flowers do everything from spruce up a cocktail to fight cancer. Here are a few of the ways herbalists use them for food and medicine.

This story originally aired in the April 14, 2024 episode of Inside Appalachia.

Brandy McCann is a self-taught herbalist from Blacksburg, Virginia, who considers violets a personal gift. She was born in late April, when the flowers typically bloom.

It has always delighted McCann that she was born on Earth Day. When her mother went into the hospital, things were a bit dark and dreary, but when she emerged a week later, violets were in bloom.

“So that’s always been a very special thing to me, when I see the violets blooming, every spring around my birthday, I just feel like it’s such a gift from Mother Nature,” McCann says.

McCann enjoys reciprocating the gift of violets by using them to make presents for friends and family. In her sunny kitchen with a view of the flowers growing in her yard, she demonstrates how to make skin toner.

“I have a jar full of dried violets and I harvested them probably a couple of weeks ago. I let them air dry on a towel and put them in the jar,” McCann says. “And then I have here some jojoba oil, or you can use olive oil, any kind of carrier oil that’s good for the skin. And then I pour the oil and fill the jar, leaving just a tiny bit of headspace and then set a lid on it, and give her a good shake out every day.”

For a month or so, McCann says to keep the infused oil in a clean glass jar away from light, heat and dampness. Then strain out the plant material and keep the oil.

Brandy McCann makes skin toner from violets and jojoba oil. She has made gifts from violets for more than a decade.

*Photo Credit: Wendy Welch/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

That’s one fun project people may want to try with violets, but there are many uses for these flowers. Nica Fraser studied at the Chestnut School of Herbal Medicine. She teaches her daughters herbalism as part of their homeschool curriculum. One of their projects is making violet lavender sugar.

Tastes differ, but Fraser suggests one to two tablespoons of culinary dried lavender combined with two cups of sugar is a good base. To this you can add a fourth- to a half-cup or so of dried violets — leaf and flower, not roots. Start with less and add as you go, then blend the mixture until smooth. Taste, then add anything you think it needs more of.

A blender can be used to make violet sugar. A mortar and pestle will also work.

*Photo Credit: Wendy Welch/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Learning with violets can be fun, and Fraser particularly likes that the violets add vitamins to the sugar all children love.

“I think per gram, you get about double the dose of vitamin C in a gram of a violet leaf than you do in a gram of an orange. They’re also rich in vitamin A, they’ve got great magnesium content, and they’ve even got calcium in them,” Fraser says.

Fraser’s youngest fills a flower bowl for processing back at the house. Fraser has taught her daughters to forage for spring violets, along with other edible flowers.

*Photo Credit: Nica Fraser*

That high vitamin content is also why Fraser likes to watch her daughters pick flowers during playtime — and consume them.

Of her oldest daughter, she says, “One of her favorite things to do is to know that she can just be walking outside playing, take a break, eat some flowers and keep going.”

Fraser learned to love foraging from her grandmother, who taught her as a child to hunt morels.

“She was actually the person who planted that seed in me, that you could find nourishment out in nature.”

It is a seed Fraser delights to see growing in her children as they forage on the family homestead in southeastern Ohio.

“I get to take my two daughters out into the woods, and I teach them what I know, and they are so very interested,” Fraser says. “They light up … they love taking this in and they retain it. They apply it, they ask questions, and it’s just really, really enjoyable to watch these little budding herbalists run around in the yard every day with their inquisitive minds.”

Those minds have retained a great deal of information, even at their tender ages. Fraser asks her kids whether they should eat violets that grow near poison ivy, and they come up with excellent information.

Violets are versatile and vibrant.

*Photo Credit: Nica Fraser*

Fraser’s daughters head toward a favorite foraging spot. They have been learning about plants during home school lessons with their mother.

*Photo Credit: Nica Fraser*

“We definitely don’t want to pick it because it will put the oils on from the poison ivy,” the girls reply, more or less in chorus. They add not to pick near busy roads where car exhaust would saturate the petals and leaves, or in a barnyard pasture, because — poop.

Keeping all those caveats in mind, violets are still one of the safest flowers for new foragers because they’re so easy to identify.

Dr. Beth Shuler and a patient at Powell Valley Animal Hospital. Shuler studied herbal medicine for animals as a supplement to her licensed veterinary practice.

*Photo Credit: Powell Valley Animal Hospital*

Dr. Beth Shuler, a veterinarian who studied at Purple Moon Herbs and Studies, loves violets.

“They just make me smile. I like that they’re gentle, they’re easy to find,” Shuler says. “It’s so safe and easy to use that you can put it in your cocktail or your salad, but at the same time it’s very strong and powerful enough to help cure cancer.”

Shuler owns Powell Valley Animal Hospital in Big Stone Gap, Virginia, and often uses violets in her practice. She says they’re a good herb for breast care in dogs and people.

“Most of the dogs that we would use violets for are dealing with breast cancer, mammary cancer or mastitis,” Shuler says. “We would do a combination of oral treatment with a tincture.”

Violets are also a great cleanser for infected wounds. Shuler’s youngest dog, Sirrus, is about to get a special treat because Shuler wanted the flower power working inside of him. He had cut his foot on some ice, and it was a little bit swollen.

Or, as Shuler puts it, “he’s got mild lymphatic inflammation up in his axillary lymph node draining from that injured toe. So I’m placing some tincture, violet tincture in ethanol, on a corner of a piece of toast.”

Sirrus chows down. Shuler’s pleased by that, adding that giving dogs toast is not a common thing in her household, since bread is not good for dogs as part of a daily diet.

“But it does act as a very nice absorptive sponge for tinctures to go down easily. And less mess,”

Schuler explains that humans and dogs have multiple lymph nodes; think of them as internal trash cans trying to keep the garbage away. When people get sick, lymph nodes under our arms sometimes swell up and ache. But lymph nodes have no pump. Violets are excellent at breaking up and dispelling lymph from our bodies. Just another reason to love it, in Shuler’s opinion. But also a reason to treat it with respect and not eat too many of them at once.

“The violet is very powerful and easy to find. But again it is not a simple herb,” Shuler says.

In other words, don’t go eat a bunch of violets — or rub them on your dog’s feet — and expect either one of you to feel better right away. Shuler’s dog Sirrus got a few days of tincture toast.

Sirrus, the youngest of the Shuler/Tester family dogs, is happy to have eaten violet toast live on the radio. He had a mild cut that became inflamed, so Shuler treated him for a few days with violet tincture.

*Photo Credit: Brandon Tester*

“It’s not a one dose and done,” Shuler says. “These are built up in the body as repetitive use, it’s not an overnight fix.”

Literally safe enough for small children to swallow as a snack, violets can clean wounds, fight cancer or spruce up a gin and tonic. Violets are nothing if not versatile.

Violet gin fizzes are wonderful drinks. Shuler made two for drinking in her back garden, as a celebration of violet versatility.

*Photo Credit: Wendy Welch/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Dr. Beth Shuler and her husband Dr. Brandon Tester both took classes held on the North Carolina coast from Purple Moon Herbs and Studies. She is a veterinarian; he is a chiropractor.

*Photo Credit: Brandon Tester*

For a fun list of things to do with violets, check out Chestnut School of Herbal Medicine. Remember, never try a new unidentified plant or medicine without first consulting an expert.

——

This story is part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Reporting Project, a partnership with West Virginia Public Broadcasting’s Inside Appalachia and the Folklife Program of the West Virginia Humanities Council.

The Folkways Reporting Project is made possible in part with support from Margaret A. Cargill Philanthropies to the West Virginia Public Broadcasting Foundation. Subscribe to the podcast to hear more stories of Appalachian folklife, arts and culture.

Chair Caning Provides Employment And Community For Folks With Visual Impairments In Wheeling, W.Va.

In 17th century Europe, caned chairs were all the rage. You know the kind — a wooden frame with a seat woven onto it. Nowadays though, you don’t see many caned chairs around. That’s because cane doesn’t last forever. Eventually the material breaks down and needs to be replaced. Here at the Seeing Hand Association in Wheeling, West Virginia, folks are giving new life to these old chairs, and finding community along the way.

This story originally aired in the March 31, 2024 episode of Inside Appalachia.

Bianca Miller is standing eye level with a wooden chair that’s been placed on top of a table. Now, usually chairs go under the table and usually chairs are for sitting. But if you sat on this chair, you’d fall right through. The seat is gone.

Miller is weaving a new seat onto the chair’s empty wooden frame. She’s using a material called rush, which looks almost like a long, thick shoe string.

“Under, over, under, over,” she says to herself, weaving along in synchrony.

Hammer in hand, Miller secures a piece of rush along the seat’s perimeter.

“Let’s say a little prayer,” she says as she swings the hammer. “I like my fingers.”

Bianca Miller (left) and Debbie Hatfield are chair caners at the Seeing Hand Association in Wheeling, West Virginia.

*Photo Credit: Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

In 17th century Europe, caned chairs were all the rage. You know the kind — a wooden frame with a seat woven onto it. The trend spread to Appalachia, where chairs were often woven with strips of hickory bark. Nowadays though, you don’t see many caned chairs around, except for maybe at your grandma’s house or the occasional garage sale. That’s because cane doesn’t last forever. Eventually the material breaks down and needs to be replaced. That means a lot of caned chairs end up in the trash. But here at the Seeing Hand Association in Wheeling, West Virginia, folks are giving new life to these old chairs, and finding community along the way.

The Seeing Hand Association in Wheeling, West Virginia.

*Photo Credit: Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

As Miller weaves, she pulls at the rush to tighten it.

“Super duper tight, super duper tight. Make sure your fingers turn the darkest red they can possibly turn. And if you lose the first few layers of skin, it’s okay, because that means you’re doing the best thing you can,” Miller says. “It’s all for the chair.”

Miller canes by memory, touch and whatever level of vision she has that day.

“With my disease, I never know if I’m going to wake up with vision or not,” she says. “Today I have floaters and flashes and it’s a little bit cloudy, almost as if you’re looking through a lava lamp. You just never know what to expect.”

In 2020, Miller was diagnosed with an inflammatory eye disease called Uveitis. In the process of getting treatment, she ended up going totally blind for 10 months. Eventually she did regain some vision, but it’s unpredictable.

Although Miller’s sight isn’t guaranteed day to day, it’s not really necessary to do this job — and to do it well. In fact, everyone in this workshop has limited visual ability.

Seeing Hand is a nonprofit that provides employment and specialized services for folks that are blind or visually impaired. Employees are trained in skills like refurbishing fire extinguishers, making and restoring mops, and caning chairs.

“The fire extinguishers, the chairs, the mops, the brooms, it all makes sure we have a job,” Miller says. “It’s job security.”

Miller came to Seeing Hand about two years ago.

“I kind of forgot about this place until my mother had reminded me that my grandfather was here,” she says. “He had went blind all of a sudden in his early thirties, which is when I went blind.”

It’s been years since Miller’s grandfather worked here, but Seeing Hand is still around — marking nearly a century of providing services and support in the community.

Mike Cunningham joined Seeing Hand last year. He works three days a week at the workshop. It’s the first job he’s had since 2012.

Employees restore caned chairs at the Seeing Hand workshop in Wheeling, West Virginia.

*Photo Credit: Employees restore caned chairs at the Seeing Hand workshop in Wheeling, West Virginia.*

“Before this job, my activities outside of the house were 45 minutes to the grocery store, and that was it,” Cunningham says. “Basically, I was stuck in the house for ten years.”

Cunningham is totally blind in his left eye. The vision in his right eye is slightly better, but not great.

“I split my eye on my bedside table in 2012. And when they sewed it up, the scar goes right down the center of my vision,” he says. “So I have zero straight lines. Every straight line is curved. So it’s more of a distortion than it is blindness. It’s a definite impairment.”

The frame of a wooden chair that is ready to be recaned.

*Photo Credit: Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Cunningham is nearly done with the chair he’s working on. He’s using cane, a material that’s thinner and more delicate than rush. Following an intricate pattern, he carefully threads a strip of cane under, over, under, over. He says this has been his hardest chair yet.

“Sometimes you talk to the chair,” he says with a chuckle. “If it’s not going very easy, you don’t say very nice things.”

Cunningham’s work table is right across from Jeannine Schmitt. Now 82, Schmitt learned to cane chairs over 40 years ago, before experiencing vision loss. These days, she largely relies on muscle memory.

“You almost can feel if it’s right after a while,” she says. “It’s like second nature. Your fingers are on automatic.”

Jeannine Schmitt weaves a new seat onto an old hand caned chair.

*Photo Credit: Clara Haizlett/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

The chair she’s working on is probably 100 years old, she says. Once repaired, the chair will have a new life ahead of it. But not all caned chairs are so lucky, especially as the skills needed to repair caned chairs become less and less common.

Miller points out a row of chairs that are patiently waiting their turn to undergo chair surgery. There’s an old rocker, covered in dust. There’s one with a fist sized hole right through the cane.

“I love the dirty and ugly… or I wouldn’t say ugly — unique,” Miller says. “It’s actually beautiful. And we get to work on these. You know how old these chairs are?”

Most chairs here are brought in by customers from around the Ohio Valley but the chairs themselves come from all over.

“Some of them are stamped Italy or Germany, and some of them are stamped like Indiana or New York,” Miller says. “And you wonder how did this even come about? My brain can go on forever about it and it’s just a chair, for gosh sakes!”

When Miller started working at Seeing Hand, she was struggling to adapt to her vision impairment.

“I was depressed. I gained a lot of weight. I was on a lot of meds,” she says. “Some days I’d come here and just cry, like I shouldn’t have even came.”

Watch this special Inside Appalachia Folkways story below:

But in time, things started to change.

“Then you meet these people and you hear all their stories and you see what they’ve had to overcome and that they smile and they laugh every day,” she says. “It got me out of my funk. It brought my confidence back.”

Schmitt says her fellow employees are like “brothers and sisters.”

“Most people really have no idea of what certain things can do to you when you’re vision impaired,” Schmitt says. “It’s nice to have people, that if you explain to them, they know what you mean. This is my second home, let’s put it like that.”

Schmitt and Cunningham are nearly finished with their chairs. When they’re done, the chairs will be sent downstairs, to join the ranks of the other finished chairs, all freshly stained and tightly caned. And in a few weeks, Miller’s chair will be done, too — repaired and ready for another 100 years.

——

Production assistance for this story was provided by Ella Jennings.

Remembering Travis Stimeling And The Debate Over Weed Killer Dicamba, This West Virginia Morning

On this West Virginia Morning, it was a shock when author, musician and West Virginia University professor Travis Stimeling died abruptly in November. They were 43. Folkways Reporter Zack Harold collected remembrances from colleagues, former students and friends. He shared them recently on Inside Appalachia.

On this West Virginia Morning, it was a shock when author, musician and West Virginia University professor Travis Stimeling died abruptly in November. They were 43. Folkways Reporter Zack Harold collected remembrances from colleagues, former students and friends. He shared them recently on Inside Appalachia.

Also, in this show, farmers in America’s heartland are watching the effects of a recent federal court ruling about a popular weed killer called dicamba. The decision stops the use of dicamba, saying the herbicide can drift to injure and kill desirable plants, bushes and trees. However, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) now says despite the ruling, farmers may use existing supplies on their fields this year.

On the latest episode of Us & Them, we bring back a story from our archives about this ugly battle in farm country. Host Trey Kay and his colleague Loretta Williams head deep into farm country to hear from Bo Sloan. He’s the manager of a national wildlife refuge surrounded by farm fields where dicamba is sprayed. Here’s an excerpt from Us & Them’s “Dicamba Woes.”

West Virginia Morning is a production of West Virginia Public Broadcasting which is solely responsible for its content.

Support for our news bureaus comes from Shepherd University.

Eric Douglas is our news director and producer.

Listen to West Virginia Morning weekdays at 7:43 a.m. on WVPB Radio or subscribe to the podcast and never miss an episode. #WVMorning

Remembering Travis Stimeling, A WVU Professor, Scholar Of American Music, Musician And Friend

In walked Travis Stimeling. Burly and ebullient, Stimeling grew up playing guitar in church as a child in Buckhannon, West Virginia, then went on to study trombone in college. That eventually led to a Ph.D. in musicology from the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, and a teaching gig at Millikin University in Illinois.

This story originally aired in the March 10, 2024 episode of Inside Appalachia.

Sophia Enriquez didn’t know it at the time, but one music history class in her freshman year of college would change the entire direction of her life.

It was 2013, and the music department at West Virginia University (WVU) was looking to hire another professor. As part of the interview process, the university wanted finalists for the position to teach a sample lecture. A “job talk” in academia lingo.

“I was in the guinea pig class that they gave their job talk to,” Enriquez said.

Now Stimeling was looking to come back home.

“They gave a job talk for music history class and talked about country music and Taylor Swift. And that had everyone so excited,” Enriquez said. “So that’s how I met Travis.”

Stimeling, whose pronouns were they/them, got the job. It was the beginning of what would be an extremely fruitful period, both for Stimeling and WVU’s music program.

Over the next decade, Stimeling established Appalachian music and Appalachian studies minors at the university. They published reams of articles and a shelf full of books. That includes co-authoring the autobiography of legendary session musician Charlie McCoy, and compiling a book of interviews with modern West Virginia songwriters.

Nashville Cats, one of Stimeling’s many books, is about the backing musicians who made Nashville into “Music City.”

*Photo Credit: Zack Harold/ West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

All these books and articles established Stimeling as a leading scholar in the study of traditional Appalachian music. But Stimeling wasn’t only a scholar — they were a musician, too. So they founded the WVU Bluegrass and Old-Time Band in addition to their academic pursuits.

Enriquez joined the band in her junior year. She originally came to WVU to study orchestral trumpet, but caught the bluegrass bug from some friends.

“I just walked right into Travis’s office one day and said ‘I think I want to do this,’” she said. “They said ‘OK, well sing me something.’”

Enriquez didn’t really consider herself a singer. But soon she was belting out the old Flatt and Scruggs tune “Rollin’ in My Sweet Baby’s Arms” with Stimeling backing her up on flat top guitar.

“So then they’re like, ‘OK you’re in,’” she said.

But Stimeling didn’t just help Enqiruez find her voice onstage. When she was nearing the end of her undergrad, she was unsure what to do next. One day, Stimeling sat her down and laid out the options.

“They said ‘I don’t think you’d realize you’d be really great at doing what I do,’” Enriquez said.

Enriquez went on to earn a Ph.D. in ethnomusicology. On the day she received her doctorate, she received a voicemail from Stimeling.

“Dr. Enriquez, this is Dr. Stimeling, calling on important doctor business,” they said. “But really, congratulations. I’m just so dang proud of you, so I thought I’d call and wish it to you directly. Looking forward to celebrating with you the next time we’re together. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Enriquez said Stimeling referred to themselves as her “academic papa.”

“I know they played that role for a lot of other people. A lot of my close friends, we were all mentees of Travis’ at some point,” she said.

Another of Stimeling’s many academic offspring was Mary Linscheid.

Linscheid grew up in Morgantown, West Virginia, the child of two classical musicians. She began studying classical violin at the age of five. But she fell in love with old-time and bluegrass music as a tween.

In eighth grade, Linscheid made a fateful trip to WVU’s Mountainlair Student Union to see the university’s bluegrass band perform.

“So I graduated high school and applied to WVU — that’s the only school I applied for because I knew I didn’t want to leave,” she said. “I wanted to be in the bluegrass band. That was one of my top reasons for going.”

Stimeling, second from right, and the WVU Bluegrass and Old-Time Band pose with WVU President Gordon Gee, center.

*Photo Courtesy of Mary Linscheid*

Linscheid ended up in Stimeling’s Appalachian music and Appalachian studies minors, and she joined the bluegrass band. And like Enriquez, it was in that band that Linscheid found her voice.

“Travis actually got me singing. Before college I would never sing, especially in public. I went to church and everything, and I lip-sang,” she said. “But Travis was like, ‘If you’re going to be in the bluegrass band, everybody has to sing.’”

Linscheid started writing songs, compiling enough to record her debut album, A Place to Grow Old, in 2022. Stimeling produced that project and played and sang backup on several tracks.

“Travis was always my first listener. My first reader of anything,” Linscheid said.

Stimeling and Linscheid performing together.

*Photo Courtesy of Mary Linscheid*

The two became close friends and bandmates outside the university. They first performed together in a square dance group. Recently, Linscheid and Stimeling had started playing gigs as a duo. They had their first big performance last summer, at Jerry Run Summer Theater in Webster County.

“Travis just seemed like they were finally free in their music and ready to take off with that and go in a whole different direction with their life,” Linscheid said. “They were really excited about this next phase of their life.”

Stimeling and Linscheid were set to go into the studio to record a duet album but ended up postponing the session at the last minute. Then, just a week later, Stimeling was gone. They died unexpectedly in their home on Nov. 14, 2023.

Now, instead of recording an album, Linscheid was left to organize a memorial service. She knew she would need to include Ginny Hawker on the set list. Hawker is an expert in the old-time Primitive Baptist style of singing, so Linscheid asked her to lead the crowd in “Amazing Grace” — sung in the call-and-response style of the Primitive Baptists.

Hawker doesn’t remember exactly how she and Stimeling became friends.

“Our paths keep crossing,” she said.

Ginny Hawker (left) and Mary Linscheid sing from the Primitive Baptist hymnbook in Hawker’s Elkins, West Virginia home.

*Photo Credit: Jennie Williams/West Virginia Folklife Program*

Stimeling became fascinated by Hawker’s style of singing and the two were beginning a formal apprenticeship.

“I think we were going, Dec. 10. We were supposed to go to a Primitive Baptist church in Clay County and just listen,” Hawker said.

As they dove into the repertoire of the Primitive Baptist church, Hawker and Stimeling came to make a vow. Whichever of them died first, the other would sing the hymn “Dear Friends Farewell” at the other’s funeral.

Hawker didn’t think about her promise as Linscheid was preparing the setlist for the memorial service. She never imagined she would have to keep her end of the bargain. She assumed it would be Stimeling, singing at her funeral.

But as she sat there, listening as the WVU Bluegrass Band finish up their set with songs like “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” and other classic country songs Stimeling loved — Hawker remembered.

She climbed back onstage, stepped up to the mic and kept her promise to her friend:

“Dear friends, farewell, I do you tell,
Since you and I must part;
I go away and here you stay,
But still we’re joined in heart.”

——

In North Carolina, Master Woodcarvers Nurture Century-Old Craft Tradition

On a foggy morning, Angela Wynn heads into the John C. Campbell Folk School in Brasstown, North Carolina. Normally, she’d be starting a day of work as a housekeeper here. But today, she’s at the school for a different reason. She’s here to learn how to cut out wood blanks from Richard Carter, a longtime Brasstown Carver.

This story originally aired in the March 3, 2024 episode of Inside Appalachia.

The Brasstown Carvers were once so celebrated that in the 1930s, First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt purchased some of their carvings as state gifts. Today, only a handful of Brasstown Carvers remain. But a dedicated teacher, an enthusiastic student and a supportive community are helping to keep this local craft tradition alive.

Wynn pays close attention as Carter flips through a binder of photos, diagrams and instructions. Using this pattern book as a guide, they’ll use a bandsaw to cut out wood shapes to carve into animal figurines.

Finished and in-progress carvings sit in front of a box of wood “blanks” or “patterns.” Carter is responsible for cutting out all the blanks for the Brasstown Carvers. The carvers then carve, sand, buff, finish and detail each figurine to arrive at the final product.

*Photo Credit: Stefani Priskos/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Wynn began learning to carve about a year and a half ago, after moving to Brasstown from Florida. She had tried different crafts before, but this just felt different.

“I was instantly hooked,” Wynn says.

Well, almost instantly.

“The first carving night, I absolutely was clueless and I didn’t even know where to start,” she says. “I could see what I wanted to do, I just didn’t have the nerve to do it.”

Then, Wynn got some help from Carter.

“He was very generous with his praise on my first carving,” she says. “I look at it now and … it’s pretty sad. It was a squirrel. I still have it. I laugh at it now.”

There’s a long tradition of whittling and woodcarving in Brasstown, but being an official Brasstown Carver is a special honor.

“People want to know, ‘How quick can I get to be a Brasstown Carver?’” Carter says. “And it’s not quick.”

Big Carving Dreams? Start With Tiny Beavers

Some of the Brasstown Carvers’ signature carvings are “least ones” — tiny animal carvings that stand under two inches tall. Carving small is hard, which is why “least ones” are on the list of carvings that aspiring Brasstown Carvers must master. Wynn carved this pig and “gossiping goose,” two classic Brasstown animal patterns.

*Photo Credit: Stefani Priskos/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Now 73, Carter grew up near the Folk School and has been a Brasstown Carver for almost 50 years. He says each aspiring Brasstown Carver has to complete a checklist of challenges to prove their skill and consistency. One of those challenges is carving “least ones” — tiny animal carvings that stand under two inches tall.

Carter and Wynn compare “least one” beavers. Carving side by side allows Carter to give Wynn feedback and demonstrate techniques in real time. It also encourages ample chit chat — another time-honored woodcarving tradition.

*Photo Credit: Stefani Priskos/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Wynn has already successfully produced a “least one” goat, bear, goose and pig, among others. Today, she and Carter are carving tiny beavers out of basswood. As they work, Carter shows Wynn some shortcuts and tricks.

Wynn says she’s learned a lot from carving — including patience.

That’s something I can relate to on a personal level. I used to work at the Folk School, and I attended the carving nights that the Brasstown Carvers hold every week. I loved chatting with my neighbors while my hands were busy, but it was hard for me to see anything in the wood. I usually felt like I was getting nowhere.

But Carter says Wynn showed promise from her very first carving night.

“We watch people in here and we can tell when they’re going to be able to do real well and she does real good,” Carter says.

Being able to visualize the animal that a block of wood “wants” to become is key — and it’s one of Wynn’s favorite parts of carving.

“For me, the joy is just finding the animal in there and making it my own,” she says. “It’s just like a little surprise every time.”

Carter agrees.

“I know one of my great friends, he was here a month ago,” he says. “He took a bird home with him. And he brought it back last week and it was a little gnome.”

Although Brasstown Carvers all work from the same patterns, Wynn has enjoyed seeing her own personal style emerge as her carving skills have progressed. She has also developed her own original carving patterns, such as these walnut-shell hedgehogs on display at the John C. Campbell Folk School’s craft shop.

*Photo Credit: Stefani Priskos/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Carvings Fit For A Future Queen

Brasstown Carvers Sally and Clarence Fleming carve on the porch of their house in Brasstown, North Carolina, circa 1935. Sally was known for carving pigs with curly tails. Brasstown Carvers hailed from around the region, including the nearby communities of Warne, Gum Log, Pine Log and Martins Creek.

*Courtesy/Western Carolina University, Historical Photograph Collection*

The Brasstown Carvers were started by Olive Dame Campbell in the mid-1920s, a few years after she co-founded the John C. Campbell Folk School. The carvers were encouraged to carve what they saw — typically animals — and they became famous for their realistic figures. According to Caroline Baxter, the Folk School’s craft shop manager, the Brasstown Carvers program was part of Campbell’s larger vision of an economic future for Appalachians that didn’t require moving away from home.

“One of [Campbell’s] goals was to provide economic development for the carvers, give them a way to make money in the season where their fields were not being worked and they kind of had downtime,” Baxter says.

For many Brasstown Carvers, the earnings that they received from carving served as an important source of supplemental income. To express their gratitude, in 1947, the Brasstown Carvers organized a letter-writing campaign to Murrial “Murray” Martin, who was the carving instructor of the John C. Campbell Folk School from 1935 to 1973. In 2024, revenue from selling carvings is still a meaningful source of “side money” for Brasstown Carvers, although the money doesn’t stretch as far as it did in the 30s, 40s and 50s. The letters also mention other benefits of carving such as friendship, community, a meaningful and productive artistic hobby – which remain important to Brasstown Carvers today.

*Photo Credit: Doris M. Reece/Courtesy Western Carolina University, John C. Campbell Folk School Records*

The Brasstown Carvers soon began selling their work in shops across the country. By the 1930s, says Travis Souther, the Folk School’s archivist, Brasstown Carver fame had reached the White House.

“Some of those woodcarvings were purchased by [President Franklin D. Roosevelt] and Mrs. Roosevelt,” Souther says. “They were later given as gifts to a young lady who was living in England at the time.”

The young lady? Future Queen Elizabeth II.

There’s a legend in Brasstown about a family that was able to purchase a house during the Great Depression with the money they earned from carving alone. For today’s Brasstown Carvers, carving is still a meaningful source of extra income, but the earnings don’t stretch as far as they did during the carvers’ heyday. For one thing, carving requires immense hand strength and physical stamina, and many of the carvers now are in their 70s and 80s. For Wynn and Carter, carving is also something they fit in between other jobs and home and family responsibilities.

“It’s only side money now,” Wynn says. “I would love to be able to carve full-time, but I’m not to that point.”

A New Generation Of Carvers

These days, Wynn is more than just a student of Carter’s. At age 53, she’s the newest official member of the Brasstown Carvers, representing a new generation. To support her continued training, the North Carolina Arts Council recently awarded Carter and Wynn a folklife apprenticeship grant. Wynn says she looks forward to passing on what she learns to the next generation of Brasstown Carvers.

On Thursday nights, the Brasstown Carvers host their free weekly carving night at the Folk School. It’s a place for experienced carvers to spend time together and talk shop.

A collection of Wynn’s “least ones” carvings at different stages in the carving process. From left to right: a wood blank of a goat; a carved and sanded bear; a finished pig and “gossiping goose.”

*Photo Credit: Stefani Priskos/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Every Thursday night, Brasstown Carvers, Folk School students and staff, and Brasstown locals of all ages gather for the Folk School’s community carving night. Attendees get to know each other as they try their hand at a new or long-loved craft.

*Photo Credit: Stefani Priskos/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

It’s also a place for newcomers to try out carving. Carter and Wynn especially want to encourage young people to come.

“We got a young one, a nine-year-old, coming tonight, so hopefully he’s excited to get into this,” Carter says. “I’ve got a six-year-old at home that wants to do it, but I’m trying to hold out on that for a while. I may give him a bar of soap and something to let him work on.”

As the newest Brasstown Carver, Wynn has some advice for beginners:

“Don’t be afraid. Don’t be intimidated,” she says. “Just give it a shot. You never know what you can do until you try it.”

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HBCU Greek Organizations Carry On The Tradition Of Stepping During WVSU’s Annual Homecoming Step Show

Inside the Appalachian mountains of Institute, West Virginia lies one of the nation’s leading public institutions of higher education for African Americans. In 1891, West Virginia State University (WVSU) was founded, and it is full of rich history and cultural traditions. One of the school’s biggest traditions each year is Homecoming. The annual week-long celebration is filled with on- and off-campus activities. The step show is always a crowd favorite.

This story originally aired in the Feb. 25, 2024 episode of Inside Appalachia.

Folkways Reporter Traci Phillips recently attended the 2023 West Virginia State University Homecoming step show with her 11-year-old daughter, Jayli, and has this story of a tradition that is common at most Homecomings at Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCU).

Inside the old WVSU gymnasium, the space is filled with sounds of clapping, stomping, chanting, music and audience enthusiasm. Members of the public are in the bleachers surrounding the basketball court where the stage is set up.

College students representing each Greek organization on campus take turns entering the gym to a selected song or chant. Along with the undergrads are alumni from the 1960s through present day. After their grand entrance, the students take to the stage and perform a three- to five-minute routine. Everyone wears Greek paraphernalia — hats, boots, pins and sweatshirts — in their organization’s colors.

“You got Delta Sigma Theta walking out right now,” Jayli announces.

Delta Sigma Theta, a sorority that was founded in 1913, is just one of the sororities that is stepping today. As an HBCU graduate and Delta member myself, I thought it was important for my daughter, Jayli, to know this history and to experience this culture. Her being here is a rite of passage. Both of Jayli’s grandmothers are WVSU graduates. I am hoping she will one day attend an HBCU and be a Delta, too.

“Let’s see, I think they are about to stomp and clap again,” Jayli says. “I think they’re all helping each other out. That’s what I see.”

This is all part of a long tradition at HBCUs. The Homecoming step show is a way for African American fraternities and sororities to express love and pride for their respective organizations to a broader community. It is also a way for alumni and community members to reunite.

Kenny Hale of Charleston, West Virginia is at the step show today. He is a member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity and was initiated during the 1970s at Marshall University in Huntington, West Virginia.

“Homecoming is when you see all this crowd come in and you get to see the people you knew and went to school with,” Hale says. “And just the enthusiasm that an HBCU brings with the power and the fellowship of scholarly people.”

Addison Hall of Cincinnati, Ohio is an alumni of WVSU and is also a member of Kappa Alpha Psi Fraternity. He says the Homecoming step show is a reunion.

“It’s a lot of people that you haven’t seen in a while showing back up, being in the same space that y’all shared and created all these memories at,” Hall says.

Members of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity performing during the 2023 WVSU Homecoming step show.

*Photo Credit: Traci Phillips/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Shanequa Smith is from New York. She went to WVSU and now lives in Charleston, West Virginia. She is a member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority.

“I’m Greek, and so it’s just a joyous time, and stepping is part of our history. It goes way back. And so this is a part of that, where we get to stay connected,” Smith says. “And it’s always good to see different people actually taking up that throne of stepping.”

The origin and roots of stepping stems from African cultural traditions. Stepping can be described as a synchronized movement using stomping and clapping. During the 20th century, America’s Black fraternities and sororities played a unique part in the reemergence of stepping on college campuses. Almost three million members strong, America’s nine Black sororities and fraternities are part of the National Pan-Hellenic Council, also known as the Divine Nine.

Up next to perform is Alpha Kappa Alpha, a sorority that was founded in 1908.

“They are walking out with little kids and everybody’s holding up their pinky for the AKAs,” Jayli says. “They are rockin’ this … They have a brown outfit with their state facts on it.”

One of today’s performers is Ashlyn Bell, a Delta Sigma Theta Sorority member from Charleston, West Virginia. Bell is a junior majoring in elementary education. She says part of why she joined a sorority was her memories of going to step shows.

“Growing up in West Virginia, I came to Homecoming all the time and I just always seen the community. Actually, my mom is a Delta, so I’m a legacy. And we would come down and watch the step shows and I just remember really enjoying it,” Bell says. “It was lit, it was just over-the-top loud. I just thought it was so fun and so cool. Just couldn’t keep my eyes off what they were doing, how they’re moving with their hands, and jumping and screaming. I just thought it was amazing.”

This year, Bell performed by herself, representing her sorority, Delta Sigma Theta. She came out to the 1970s hit song, “Got To Be Real” by Cheryl Lynn, and early 2000s hit song “Knuck If You Buck” by Crime Mobb, doing a move called “the duck.” To do the duck, Bell says you have to, “bend your knees, hands out, head turned slightly up just a little bit. You know, you just lean into it.”

Bell wears black shorts, a red vest with Delta designs on it, sunglasses and spray-painted red boots. “The boots are actually traditional, something that past Alpha Delta chapter members have done for the step show,” Bell says. “So I’m gonna continue the tradition.”

Ashlyn Bell poses before her performance at the WVSU Homecoming step show. Her hand signal represents the shape of the letter “D” for Delta in the Greek alphabet.

*Photo courtesy of Kristy Lyles-Bell*

Clothing and Greek paraphernalia are a big part of the step show. Debra Hart is the director of Equity Programs at Marshall University in Huntington, West Virginia. She is also a member of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, and was initiated during the 1970s on the campus of West Virginia State University.

“When we crossed line in 1976, we all had to get a white suit made with a red shirt. And we got gloves and we got boots to match,” Hart says. “All 12 of us had a cane, and we were going to tap the canes and cross them back and forth.”

Kids are also a part of the community at Homecoming. Hart says she remembers going to a step show as young as eight years old.

“My grandmother would dress us in black and gold, because we’re all going to State’s Homecoming. When I was ten years old, I remember aggravating my family to stay for the step show,” Hart says.

Folkways Reporter Traci Phillips (back middle), poses with her family during the West Virginia State University step show. Family members include (from left to right): Brother, Danny Adkins — member of Omega Psi Phi Fraternity — and his daughter, Ellie Adkins; son, True Phillips; and daughter, Jayli Phillips.

*Photo courtesy of LaQwanza Jackson*

After the step show, I asked my daughter, Jayli, what she thought of her experience.

“I thought the step show was really empowering and motivating. The people out there stepping looked really good,” Jayli says. “I loved it, it looked like a fun thing to do. I can’t wait to get there and do it myself one day.”

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