Tradition Story Archives - West Virginia Public Broadcasting

Fish Fries Serve As Mutual Aid For Charleston, W.Va.’s Black Community

Drive through Charleston, West Virginia any day of the week, and you’re bound to come across a sign advertising a local fish fry. Within Charleston’s Black community, fish fries have been a time-honored tradition for generations. Our Folkways Fellow Leeshia Lee grew up in Charleston. She says that it was common to see friends and neighbors hosting fish fries — they’d sell fish dinners as a way to raise money for different needs. In this special report, Lee shares her experiences with fish fries, and visits with one of Charleston’s best fish fryers.

This story originally aired in the Oct. 22, 2023 episode of Inside Appalachia.

Our Folkways Fellow Leeshia Lee grew up in Charleston. She says that it was common to see friends and neighbors hosting fish fries — they’d sell fish dinners as a way to raise money for different needs.

In this special report, Lee shares her experiences with fish fries, and visits with one of Charleston’s best fish fryers.

History Of Fish Fries

Some people would have fish fries for rent parties — they would have a fish fry if they were short on their rent. Or if there was a trip that somebody needed to go on and they didn’t have all the funds, they would whip up some fish and sell it outside. Growing up, it was nothing to go to someone’s house to purchase food for whatever reason they needed it for.

In our community, I think historically the reason why fish fries are the thing is because it comes from the slave era. And it was what they were allowed to do on Sundays. They were allowed to go fishing. And because it was free — they didn’t have to purchase it — they would catch fish.

That’s how enslaved communities would fraternize with each other, was through cooking and preparing fish, and eating it later on in the day. So I think that the tradition of having the fish fry has been embedded in our community. It is something that we were taught to do, and we do it so well that we use it as a financial means when we don’t have resources to do anything else.

What Makes A Good Fish Fry

I think the most important part of a fish fry is the meaning or the purpose for having the fish fry. Don’t get me wrong, people care about the food, the taste of it. But if it’s for a good cause, people will come out and support your fish fry.

People use different fish for their fish fries. And a lot of times people use whiting. You usually get the fish, you let it thaw out. And you season it. The main part is how you season your fish. We use cornmeal, and then we use seasoning salt. And you have to get the grease just right. It has to be sizzling and popping. And then you dip the fish and you fry it. And you can’t make it too hard. Some people serve it on croissant bread, and some people serve it on regular white bread. You add hot sauce, tartar sauce, and then it’s good to go.

Texas Pete is the community favorite hot sauce. But sometimes you go to a fish fry and you get the off-brand hot sauce. So I think whatever is there, you just make it work. But I’ve seen some people reach in their purse and pull out some hot sauce. I think that was in one of Beyonce’s songs, where she says she has some hot sauce in her bag.

The sides are very important at a fish fry. Some people like coleslaw, but usually you get the same soul food sides that you would have at a Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner: macaroni and cheese, and greens. And then sometimes people have fish fries with french fries.

Fish Fries At Charleston’s First Baptist Church

Andre Nazario

*Credit: Leeshia Lee/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

Andre Nazario is known as one of Charleston’s best fish fryers. He hosts a weekly fish fry at the First Baptist Church in downtown Charleston. Nazario said their recipe at the church is top secret.

“I can’t really divulge those secrets because then I’d have to take you hostage,” Nazario said. “But yes, there is a certain way that we prepare our fish. There’s a certain way that we season our fish. There’s a certain way that we fry our fish. There’s a certain temperature that we fry it at. And there’s a certain crisp that we want, a certain texture that we want to our fish.”

The fish fries are held at First Baptist Church in the gymnasium. When you walk in, you might see people you know who are waiting for their food.

“It’s like mini family reunions,” Nazario said. “So we’re bringing people together. You get to talk about it, you strike up some conversation. You hadn’t seen somebody in a while, you hadn’t talked to them, but then they came out to the fish fry. So it’s a way of touching base and staying connected with our community.”

Nazario is the co-founder of Creating the Advantage, known as CTA. CTA is a nonprofit that works with under-resourced youth around Charleston. They support young people to excel in sports and in school. The money from these fish fries helps fund CTA’s activities.

“We set a price for our fish fry, but most of the time people give a little bit more,” Nazario said. “Because when you offer food, that entices them or encourages them to give a little bit more.”

One of the main components of CTA is their basketball program. They train participants in the physical aspect of the sport. And they teach them to cope with the mental challenges of the game. The fish fries play a key role in supporting this program.

A fryer full of fish.

*Credit: Leeshia Lee/West Virginia Public Broadcasting*

“With the fish fries that we do, the proceeds go directly to the kids,” Nazario said. “It helps fund training. It helps fund trips, it helps pay for uniforms, it helps pay for hotels for the kids, it helps feed our kids. It’s an assortment of things that we do with the funding from fish fries. And again, the best way to someone’s heart sometimes is through their stomach.”

Fish fries are very important to the Black community in Charleston because they allow us to become our own resource. Fish fries are a source of mutual aid when the funds are limited. It allows the community to come together to show that what you’re doing is important to them.

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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.

Debate Over Public Vs. Non-Traditional Education Gets Politically Heated

There are two schools of thought dominating the politics of improving West Virginia’s education systems. Some promote non-traditional education, while others say public schools must be prioritized.

State Treasurer Riley Moore oversees the legally revitalized Hope Scholarship program, offering state funding to families seeking educational avenues outside the public school system. Recently, while announcing his run for the U.S. Congress, Moore said he would push to create national educational savings accounts offering more school options across America. In doing so, he made a backhanded swipe at the public school system.

“This should be a federal program, we must have school choice for all of our children. You see the national test scores, they are abysmal,” Moore said. “Fourth grade and eighth grade reading and math has never been lower. We have to put our children first. There’s a war going on with the family in this country, and we have to be able to give them choice over indoctrination.”

Dale Lee is a long time educator and president of the West Virginia Education Association. He said implying that public schools indoctrinate students is a false, politically charged claim.

“We’re teaching them hopefully to become critical thinkers, and to look at all sides of issues,” Lee said. “As a middle school teacher told me, if I could indoctrinate my middle school kids, all of them would wear deodorant and stay off their phones during class. It’s not as simple as the far right wants to make us believe. We’re not indoctrinating anyone.”

Gov. Jim Justice said it was improper to speak so strongly against public schools.

“I do not think that it is constructive in any way for us to throw rocks,” Justice said. “Probably every last one of us that’s casting a rock went through the public school system, and I’m a believer in our public school system.”

Justice said supporting public and non-traditional schooling not only offers needed choice for West Virginia families, but sets up competition that makes the entire state education system better.

“Should we give our kids and our parents choice? Absolutely,” Justice said. “Without question, the competition level, whether it be charter or private or public, the competition level will make us better.“

Dale Lee countered that competition between public and private educational entities can not help improve things because they’re not on a level playing field.

“You’re not comparing apples to apples. I looked at a charter school back in the early 2010’s in Pittsburgh,” Lee said. “That school was successful, but it had a 15 to one student teacher ratio. I just left the classroom in Princeton High School, teaching a class of 38 kids and 12 on special needs. Anyone will tell you, in education, I can do far more at 15 to 1 students than 38 to 1.”

This debate will continue into the 2023 legislative session, where opinions on educating West Virginia children will become state policy proposals.

Brains And Bucks: Appalachian Women Continue Hide-Tanning Tradition

In a quiet neighborhood in southeast Ohio, Talcon Quinn and her 12-year-old apprentice Juniper Ballew have revived an age-old tradition with just three ingredients: a deer skin, some water and a handful of animal brains. They have transformed a hairy, fleshy animal skin into buckskin, a buttery soft material stronger than fabric.

In a special report as part of the Inside Appalachia Folkways Project, reporter Clara Haizlett met with Quinn and Ballew to find out why they practice the tradition of brain tanning.

Quinn has trained Ballew in the art of brain tanning, through an apprenticeship program with the Ohio Arts Council. While most modern tanneries use chemicals to tan, Quinn and Ballew use the traditional method of soaking the hide in animal brains.

In the final stages of the tanning process, Talcon examines her hide while Juniper sets up the work space.

Brain tanning requires a strong back and a stronger stomach, patience and some serious elbow grease. To tan one hide it takes around 16 hours of intense labor extended over multiple days.

Quinn’s workshop is located out of her garage at her home, which is in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of Athens, Ohio.

Holding a deer skin, Quinn instructed her apprentice to “find the neck, find the membrane side, and what I’d like you to do is go down the spine, and put your weight into the cable.”

Quinn coached her apprentice through a step called cabling, a technique for softening the hide. At this stage in the process, the deer skin was slippery and limp, resembling a slimy blanket. Following Quinn’s lead, Ballew leaned back and pulled at the hide, abraiding it against a wire cable. Back and forth she yanked at the deer skin, one foot in front of the other.

Both Quinn and Ballew are from southeast Ohio, a cradle of forests, rivers, lakes and the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. Growing up in the region, Quinn spent a lot of time outdoors, developing a deep appreciation for her natural environment. In her early twenties 20s she began providing more of her own food by fishing, hunting, and picking up roadkill.

Prior to adoption of these practices, Quinn was a vegetarian, then a vegan. Yet in spite of this shift in lifestyle, she continued to set high ethical standards for herself. Quinn decided that if she was going to source her own meat, she wanted to be respectful and use all of the animal. That is what led her to brain tanning.

“I think because I’ve always been a craftsperson and I’m not easily squeamish, I just took to it really easily and fell in love with it in ways,” Quinn said. “I mean there’s times where I don’t like it at all because it gets smelly.”

Talcon wears a buckskin bikini that she tanned and sewed.

Quinn sources her hides from local game processors where animal carcasses are often just thrown away after the meat is processed. After skinning the deer, she starts tanning, transforming the throw away hides into bags, clothing, and knife sheaths. She sells these unique pieces online to a diverse group of customers. Quinn also teaches brain tanning to learners of all ages and identities. Her favorite class to teach is the buckskin bikini top class.

“The bikini top class was passed down to me and it’s been this really beautiful thing,” Quinn said. “It’s people of all different body shapes coming together to make something very sacred and beautiful for their body, and to encourage them to honor themselves and feel sexy.”

By sharing brain tanning with customers and students, Quinn hopes to encourage a more respectful relationship between humans, animals and the environment.

“It’s heavy. It’s heavy work,” she said. “And there’s a lot of respect and like gratitude and even a sense of grief for the loss of the animals or the loss of a spirit. But I also really believe that everything continues on and by continuing on it lives on. That’s the one thing I hope people see when they see my work, that it’s a lot of humbling respect that I put into it.”

When Quinn found out about the Ohio Arts Council apprenticeship program, she saw the opportunity to pass on the tradition of brain tanning to a young person in her community. Ballew belongs to the Potawatomi Tribe, a Native American group centralized in the Great Lakes region. Although Ballew was introduced to tanning at a young age, she never had formal training in the skill. Now under Quinn’s tutelage, Ballew has made her own buckskin medicine pouch. Ballew plans to incorporate the medicine pouch into the regalia that she wears at tribal powows in Michigan. She said that brain tanning, no matter how obsolete it might appear, still has value in today’s society.

Juniper shows off her tanned hide which she will sew into a medicine pouch,

“There is so much out there that has like shriveled up and died because people don’t think it’s valued enough,” Ballew said.

For Ballew, brain tanning is about connecting with her Potawotami ancestors and their way of life.

“The great thing with how Native Americans hunt is that they take one and they’re satisfied with it because they use all of it and what they don’t use goes back to the earth,” she said.

In Native cultures around the world, brain tanning was an ordinary practice, including here in Appalachia. In 18th century America, European settlers and Native Americans often traded food and supplies for buckskins or “bucks” for short. According to regional legends, this is where the slang word “buck,” meaning “dollar” comes from. Yet as the fur trade became commercialized and Native Americans were removed from their lands, traditional tanning methods fell by the wayside, displaced by industrial chemical tanning. Today the majority of global leather comes from China and instead of using natural materials as tanning agents, most modern tanneries use chemicals.

Although tanning has changed a lot over the years, Ballew said that traditional tanning still holds important cultural value.

“My uncle, when we FaceTimed the other day, he called it ‘learning the language of his grandmother,’” Ballew said. “Because she was taken by the settlers and taught English and forced to cut all her hair off. He was learning what she had been forced to forget.

Juniper and Talcon display their finished brain tanned buckskins.

“I want to inspire kind of a new definition of Appalachia, particularly around here where it’s just so poor,” Ballew said. “And I want the youth to grow up knowing that there are these skills that were kind of lost but they’re not forgotten. We still have it and we can make it something new that viable for today.”

Although they have come to the practice for different reasons, together Quinn and Ballew are reviving the tradition of brain tanning, hour by hour and hide by hide.

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.

European Traditions, W.Va. Twists – Making Grittibanz at Christmastime

In Helvetia, West Virginia, Christmastime, like all the town’s events, is a community affair. On the Saturday closest to the 5^th of December, the town celebrates their unique heritage with tales of Saint Nicholas, sweet treats, square dancing, a potluck dinner, and best of all… Swiss grittibanz, a special kind of holiday bread.

Hear this story on Inside Appalachia.

In the mountains of Randolph County, West Virginia, is the small Swiss-German town of Helvetia. This tiny, remote town is rich with Swiss-German tradition, including the Feast of Saint Nicholas held at the Helvetia Community Hall.

“We’re gathered here on the Feast of Saint Nicholas to think about generosity, because [Saint Nicholas] was a very generous person,” said local resident Eleanor Betler to a crowded dining room in the Community Hall, “And we carry that through by teaching, and we teach to make the grittibanz.”

Grittibanz is loosely translated to “doughboy,” and families often make them in Switzerland and Germany for the Feast of Saint Nicholas, which is held on the eve before Saint Nicholas Day on December 6^th.

It may be based off an old tradition, but the Feast of Saint Nicholas has only been held in Helvetia for the past 20 years.

It’s one of their smallest events during the year and averages about 25 to 30 attendees, but it’s no less a favorite for locals.

Making Grittibanz

Hours before the feast, locals prep the Community Hall for the festivities and the grittibanz. Anna Chandler stands over a large, silver mixing bowl and reads through the list of ingredients needed.

Anna may not be a local, but her father’s side of the family is from Helvetia. She lives in Morgantown and makes a point to attend local events like this one. Over the past three years, she’s been making the dough for the grittibanz with Eleanor’s guidance.

“This is the; it’s called Hebel; that’s the yeast dough,” Anna said. “So, this is like the starter, so you get it going first, so the yeast is active and going at it, and then you add it to everything else.”

After mixing in all the ingredients, Anna kneads the dough until it becomes soft, but still firm enough to mold and shape into bread people.

“First time I made this, or worked with anybody to make it, I thought it was gonna be a really sweet dough, like cinnamon roll dough; it’s not, it’s just a rich, cause it’s got the eggs and butter in it, yeast dough; it’s very straightforward,” she explained. “And when the kids get done decorating, we decorate with raisins and citron, and stuff like that, so it’s not sweet by any means, it’s just bread.”

Upstairs in the main room of the Community Hall, a small group of kids and their parents make Christmas crafts and play games together while they wait on the dough. Decorating the grittibanz with children is a big part of the tradition.

Back in the kitchen, Eleanor and Anna lay out baking sheets for each person, butter knives, and round, sticky dough balls for each child and parent to work with.

At the center of the table is a tray of flour, a couple bowls of egg wash, and dried fruit to use for decorating.

“Okay, so kind of take it from the sides and make him a neck, okay,” said Eleanor to the group of kids and their families. “And then make some shoulders and some arms.”

After everyone’s grittibanz is decorated, they’re left to rise for about 15 minutes, and then they’re ready to be baked.

Carrying On Tradition

Helvetia’s population has dropped dramatically over the decades as people have moved away for job opportunities and other reasons. Yet, Eleanor says she doesn’t think the town, or its traditions will ever disappear.

The annual events are unique and a big draw for visitors, she said, but also, many people who have family connections to Helvetia are proud of where they come from…and the events bring people home.

“Everybody does everything together, and I think that’s what keeps almost all of our traditions alive is that we do things as families and as community,” Eleanor said. “Church community; family community; community-community, and community and family mean everything to us here. Everything.”

Making grittibanz from scratch is just one aspect of Helvetia’s Feast of Saint Nicholas event. Residents also gather that day for a visit from Santa Claus, to hear the story of Saint Nick, a potluck dinner…and a community square dance.

A Sweeping Legacy – Broom Making Lives On in Appalachia

In 2017, West Virginia Public Broadcasting featured one of West Virginia’s last remaining broom makers; Kanawha County resident Jim Shaffer. The story ended with a question: would this dwindling art continue once Shaffer retired? Well, it turns out, a whole family in Hampshire County makes brooms together, and they were inspired by Shaffer himself.

Meet Wanda Hott – Broom Maker

Just about 20 miles from Romney, West Virginia is a little town called Kirby. Kirby is home to Wanda Hott and her family. She owns a big farm which has been in her family since the 1930s.

Wanda Hott ties the broom corn while using the machine she purchased from Jim Shaffer.

Hott works as a professional school bus driver for Hampshire County Schools during a normal workday, but for more than a decade she’s also been a broom maker.

“I got into broom making, because my sister wanted to know what I wanted for Christmas one year,” Hott said. “I needed a broom; I wanted a practical broom, and she got me a broom from Jim Shaffer.”

Inside Appalachia: A Broom Maker Legacy

Hott fell in love with that broom, and she remembered her great-great grandmother used to make brooms. She wanted to learn how to make them too and started teaching herself. For some help, she reached out to Jim Shaffer and began buying his broom-making supplies. Soon, they became friends.

Wanda and her husband Steve work on the broom making machine they purchased from Jim Shaffer.

Passing on a Legacy

Hott has been making brooms for the past thirteen years now. And then, last year, Jim Shaffer called her and told her he had decided he was not able to continue making brooms. Hoping to pass on his craft to the right person, he offered to sell her his broom making equipment. She accepted.

Hott hopes her broom making business will be her main source of income once she retires from school bus driving.

And, as it turns out, two of Hott’s teenage granddaughters, Shelby and Kierra Westfall, have taken a particular interest in the broom making craft as well.

“It sparks my interest,” Shelby said. “It’s something that I’m actually able to sit down and do, and it doesn’t lose my interest.”

And her younger sister, Kierra feels the same way.

“I’m a really hands on person, so I really like to be able to feel something and have it in my hands, and broom making’s a really good way to do that,” Kierra explained. “And I like spending family time, cause I think family time [is] really important, so it’s kind of a way to do both for me.”

Clay Lick Brooms & The W.Va. Broom Barn

Shelby and Kierra often work alongside their grandma. Hott’s taught them to make a variety of multi-purpose or decorative brooms by hand, but she isn’t really sure how the craft became such a big part of her family.

“It just evolved,” Hott said. “I learned to make the broom to start with, and then I would teach my sister and our friend, and when family members came, they would jump in and it was a big thing. Anybody that wanted to see, we’d teach ‘em how to make brooms.”

Hott has two separate broom shops on her farm. One is the W.Va. Broom Barn and the other is the Clay Lick Broom Shop. The brooms she makes with Jim Shaffer’s equipment are made in the W.Va. Broom Barn and take about 25 minutes to finish. They sell for about $17. Hott sells them to local Lions Clubs, just like Shaffer did.

But the brooms made in the Clay Lick Broom Shop are made entirely by hand without the machine. Since they take longer to make, Hott sells these for up to $50.

A Family Tradition

Hott hopes broom making continues to spark interest for her family. For Shelby and Kierra, they want to continue the tradition too.

“I think it’s a really great thing that there are still people around [who] still want to make brooms, because it is a really neat and wonderful thing to learn,” Kierra said.

“It’s something that I think should be passed on; people should know how to do it, cause you’re not always gonna have plastic, and you’re not gonna always have machines,” Shelby said. “The broom corn is something you can grow and make yourself; you don’t have to go and buy it.”

Shelby sits with her family’s collie, Sadie.

Wanda Hott’s brooms have been getting noticed. She’s even had customers as far away as California and Illinois. And with her entire family also interested in making brooms, for now, it looks like this artform won’t be disappearing in West Virginia anytime soon.