West Virginia Day weekend we went down to Glenville for the West Virginia State Folk Festival. They were selling pork barbecue on the corner at the stoplight where the Chevy dealer used to be. The building is gone, but the floor, including the ramp up to the showroom and garage, is still there. We sat and had a long conversation on genealogy with a local man and a visitor from Hinton, descendant of a slave family who were moved from old Virginia to the Hinton area just before the Civil War. As the parade was gathering, an older woman came and joined us in the shade, saying she had been lucky to find a parking spot across the street in front of Minnick’s Florist, which has been there as long as I can remember, and wouldn’t have to walk up the hill home (again!) that day.
My Aunt Elizabeth lived on top of that hill, which is steep, and often walked down to town. “Are you someone I should know? ” I said, thinking she must have been a neighbor. After some discussion, I said “Are you Fran?” – my aunt’s next-door-neighbor and good friend. Once I explained who I was (Eric’s sister, Ferd’s daughter) we talked about family. Aunt Elizabeth’s husband had been one of the organizers, and the secretary of the Folk Festival for many years.
After the parade, we walked up to the Country Store, where there were pictures of all the Festival Belles over the years – my grandmother deGruyter was a Belle in 1963 – and a group playing dulcimer and fiddle.
Here are Fran and Robert waiting for the parade.