Heather Hayes

September 4, 2015

Paper One

Hell for Certain

A few years ago, I decided to move out of Indiana. I had never lived anywhere except Indiana in

my life. I had been offered to opportunity to be a caretaker for a friend. I have never liked change and

couldn’t imagine stepping out of my comfort zone. However, this was my chance to experience

something new. So in March 2011, I relocated to the Appalachian Mountains in Hyden, Kentucky. Hyden

borders on the Daniel Boone National Forest and has a population of approximately 350 people.

Upon my arrival, I quickly realized I was in a very different place. While driving on the interstate

signs were all along the road to watch for falling rock. I had never seen signs like this before and hoped I

wouldn’t get hit by falling rock.

While trying to locate the address of my destination, I realized I was lost. I stopped at a small

mom and pop gas station. As I approached the attendant, I sensed he knew I was an outsider. Before I

could ask for directions he said, “You ain’t from these parts are you?” No I certainly was not. I asked

him where I was and he said, “Why girl you’re in Hell for Certain.”

I thought to myself, “Oh know what have gotten myself into!” I know I am a long way from

home but I didn’t think I would end up in hell when I left there. “What do you mean I am in Hell for

Certain,” I said. He responds “Well missy that is the name of the town you’re in.” I was beginning to

think I had definitely taken a wrong turn. I explained to him I wasn’t trying to get to hell I was trying to

get to Hyden. He proceeded to give me directions. He told me that I had to go up the road a piece until

I came to Sizerock, make a left turn, go another mile or two, make a right turn, and that would bring me

to Dill Branch Road, go about four more miles and you will come to Highway 421, which will take you

right into Hyden. I thanked him and went on my way.

It was getting dark and I didn’t feel too sure about these directions. I wished GPS worked there.

Apparently, I took a wrong turn at one of the forks in the road and ended up at the residence of a man

1

Heather Hayes

September 4, 2015

Paper One

named Wallace Collins. He looked like a rugged mountain man. A small fire pit burning out in his yard.

He stood tall and skinny, and was sipping on a quart jar of moonshine. I was apprehensive about getting

out of my car. He came up and asked me what the nature of my business was to be on his property. I

then explained the situation I had gotten into. I told him the directions that the man at the gas station

gave me and Wallace shook his head and said, “That old coot don’t have a lick of sense and couldn’t give

directions to anyone.”

He inquired about my reason for moving to Hyden. He wanted to know who my kin folk were. I

told him I had a couple of friends from there but no family. He couldn’t understand why anyone would

want to leave their homestead and kin. He then told me he was just drinking with his kin folk, but the

strange thing was he was the only one around. He could see I was confused since he was alone. He

pointed out that beside his cabin his Mommy and Daddy and two brothers were laid to rest. There I saw

four graves right in his yard. I didn’t know you could just bury people in your yard. Later I found out in

those mountains almost everyone had family graves right in their yards. Once he realized I wasn’t there

to do any harm he invited me to get out and sit a spell. He offered me a sip of his moonshine and

explained to me it was his own brand he made it himself. He said he had a still out in back and told me

he made the best whiskey in three counties. He said it was because he used the pure spring water from

the top of the mountains. I thanked him but declined. I was already lost and could not imagine that it

would help me to get where I was going.

As we were getting acquainted, he quickly told me as soon as heard me speak he knew I wasn’t

from there. I later learned that people in that area know you’re not from there as soon as you start

talking.

He told me that if you don’t know the hills and hollers you could end up in trouble. Wallace

went on to explain, he would be happy to help me out of there, but his only transportation was his good

2

Heather Hayes

September 4, 2015

Paper One

ole’ horse and motioned towards his cabin. I then saw something that stunned me. In the end room of

his cabin was his horse. Now this was not a barn it was the spare bedroom made to accommodate his

horse. He said that was ole’ Hammer and at times it was his only friend. Hammer stood there looking

out the window at me, I was shocked. He said Hammer made better company than most people. I

asked him, “Is it was difficult to keep a horse indoors?” He replied “Why heavens no, not nary a bit.”

Wallace went and got Hammer out of the house and saddled him up. He said I would have to follow

him, but that was probably the only way I would find my way out of those mountains. Since it was now

dark, I told him we should leave and he replied “I reckon we should.”

Following Wallace and Hammer I wondered if I had made a mistake moving there. All along the

way, he pointed out the different forks, hollers and creeks. He told me I would need to get acquainted

with the mountains if I was going to live there. We finally arrived in Hyden, at the Bob Fork Store.

Wallace got off Hammer and left him right at the side of the store. Everyone greeted him and Hammer

both, like it was an everyday occurrence to ride your horse to the store.

Eventually, I made it to my new address at Wagon Wheel Trail. If I told anyone my address, they

would say, “Wagon Wheel Trail, I ain’t ever heard of that.” I found out it was only used for mail and

911. I learned to tell people I live up on Stacy’s Fork, by the church house and they would say “I know

where you’re at, you live up there by ole’ tadpole.”

I lived in Hyden for almost two years. I got a job working in a restaurant and part of my

responsibility was to deliver food. I learned those hollers and mountains and never got lost again.

I got to be friends with Wallace and Hammer in those two years, and visited them many times.

After a while, I found myself using the local dialect. I never thought “ain’t” and “I reckon” would be part

of my daily vocabulary. If you want to be accepted in those mountains, you will learn to speak the

language.