Robert Cecil Buckland, Jr.

I have always loved this picture of Charles Allen, Linda Jane and Wanda Mae Buckland. Children of Charles Nye Buckland and Clara Jane Rash. Picture taken prior to birth of their youngest daughter Phyllis Ann.

The wedding announcement for Bertha Ward Buckland was found in a scrapbook belonging to her mother, Mary J. Buckland. She glued this newspaper clipping along with many interesting articles of the day. Some were poems, many obits and other interesting snippets. The picture is posted along with the article dated Sunday morning October 21, 1934.

Mrs. James Walter Lawrence, charming bride of the season, was Miss Bertha W. Buckland before her marriage. The ceremony was performed two weeks ago at Briston, Tenn. News of the wedding is of interest throughout this section, on account of the popularity of both the bride and bridegroom.

The marriage of Miss Bertha W. Buckland of Falls Mills, Va., to Mr. J. Walter Lawrence of Tazewell, Va., was so emnized in a beautiful and impressive ceremony performed Sunday evening, October 7 at 7:30 at the Methodist church parsonage of Bristol, Tenn., with the Rev. W.S. Baumgardner officiating.

The lovely bride, who is of the blonde type, is a daughter of Mr. and Mrs. L.W. Buckland of Falls Mills. She graduated with the ’30 class of Graham high school. For the past two years she has been connected with Montgomery Ward and company of this city. She possesses a charming personality which has won her a host of friends.

Mr. Lawrence is a son of Mr. and Mrs. George Lawrence of Tazewell. He is a graduate of Tazewell high school and Tazewell Business college and now holds a responsible position with the Was-Cott Bottling company in Tazewell. Because of his integrity and business ability he has become widely popular in the community.

For the ceremony, the bride was attired in a beautiful blue fall costume with gray accessories. The bride’s sister, Miss Frances Buckland, and Mr. Walter Graham of Tazewell were the only attendants for the wedding.

In the near future, the happy couple will reside in Tazewell.

Nannie Lucille Davis
b. 9-3- 1921
Pic at age 21

Larkin Watson Buckland Jr.
b. 10-8-1915
d. 11-6-1993
Grandview Cemetary, Bluefield, VA
Pic at age 19

m. 9-11-1938

The short story below was (adapted from a child’s book) . The names, towns, ideas were added to personalize a rememberance of mother’s family growing up.

Nestled in the foothills of East River Mountain, placed appropriately along narrow winding roads wrapping in and around Virginia’s rocky creek banks, are small but proud communities. They are humble little districts with names like Tazewell, Abbs Valley, Falls Mills, and Pocahontas. The impoverished people living on the hillsides and in the hollows of these Appalachian Mountains have probably been there most of their lives.
For hundreds of years, the traditions of backwoods life have remained the same. Although modern technology has found favor with the younger folk, many mountain people continue to live simply, just as their parents and grandparents before them. Generations have lived and died with their roots planted beneath the shadow of the mountains in a region known as Appalachia. Men in Appalachia are known by appointed names like Leman or Jacob or Elijah. When harvest time is over, they cloak themselves in long johns, flannel shirts, and heavy winter coats and disappear into the woods. This time of hunting bear and deer, and sometimes rabbit or squirrel, seems to be their passion. After a season, Appalachia’s rugged mountain men must go back to working serious jobs like coal mining or railroading. In spite of good wages, those who are brave enough to travel deep into the earth digging out coal deposits look forward to the day they can move on to hauling coal for the railroad company. Huge iron steam engines, spewing out clouds of white smoke, have surrendered to streamline diesel locomotives. The ever-present coal dust settles on houses and cars like freshly fallen snow. Coal mines reluctantly give of themselves, and often their shafts collapse on those within. Many workers temporarily escape death, but most eventually fall victim to the agonizing “black lung” disease. Not so different from the men, women of Appalachia are also accustomed to hard work. It seems to be their calling in life to raise children and keep the house. The kitchens where Altha or Mary Jane or Lettie or Grace live always smell good from the cooking and canning. To avoid being wasteful, the homemaker puts leftovers on a plate over the warm stove. Cold cornbread will probably be eaten later, crumbled in buttermilk. While out-of-doors is frozen, the Appalachian women sit by the fireplace in the living room to quilt. They look at family photographs hanging on the wall and take delight in them. They may even embroider family names and special dates on their patchwork quilt. Men and women of Appalachia know that family is important. In the fall, children of Appalachia climb the painted mountains amid multicolored autumn leaves and run through the woods. They get stained hands from scooping up black walnuts and gather chestnut-like chinkapins that burst forth from prickly little husks. Winter’s snow encourages the children to ride their Christmas sleds for hours on end. They seem to understand that there is no need for costly toys in Appalachia where the children love and appreciate the outdoors. They feel safe playing within the protective confines of the mountains, isolated from the unfamiliar outside world.
On Sundays, the families of Appalachia put on their best clothes. It may be a hand- me-down suit that belonged to Uncle Mace or that special print dress that Mama made. After church, whether Methodist or Pentecostal or Church of Christ, they all go to relatives houses and eat dinner and talk about nothing. They sit around the kitchen table or on the front porch glider and eat dessert and drink coffee. The children play in the yard and climb the weeping willow tree until evening when it’s time to go back to church. These mountain people are serious about God on Sunday and on every other day of the week. God created their mountains, and they know Him. When someone dies, Appalachian people gather at a wake to pay their respects. The womenfolk cook and take food to comfort and show compassion to the grieving family. The men sit along side each other with tears in their eyes, and they share stories they fondly remember. The funeral procession from the chapel to the cemetery is long and stately and somewhat presidential. Cars line up behind the hearse, following ceremoniously down winding roads to the cemetery. People gather round, and the men reverently remove their hats. The minister speaks again, and everyone stays at the graveyard until the body is at rest in the family plot. Webster defines Appalachia as the highland region of the Eastern United States extending from Northern Pennsylvania through Northern Alabama, characterized generally by poverty. Literally, this is true. Appalachia is an area of mountains and hollows scattered with dirty, rut roads leading to worn-out wooden shacks and privies. The people work long hours on hard jobs and have no glimmer of hope for relief. Nevertheless, Appalachia is much more than a region of poverty. Appalachia is an honorable way of life filled with a wealth of good moral values, contentment, and appreciation for life. Appalachia is Godly people who know who they are and what life means. Appalachia knows the blessigs of possessing a great heritage.

Recipe from Bertha Buckland Lawrence

This recipe is on a card written by Aunt Margaret. It says, “Bertha gave me this recipe on December 21 .
Frankie used to make this”.
Signed,
Margaret

Bottom Layer
For bottom of Christmas Jello Salad, mix 3 cups of hot water with 2 boxes of lime jello.
Pour in dish and let set up.

Middle Layer
Melt 15 marshmallows and 1 (8oz) cream cheese. Let cool.
Mix 1 box Lemon Jello with 1 cup hot water and juice from a can of crushed pineapple.
Add to marshmallow and cream cheese mixture. Let chill.
Chop fine: 1 cup celery, 1 cup maraschino cherries, 1 cup nuts.
Whip 1 pint of cream and add marshmallow/cream cheese mixture, celery, nuts and 1 cup drained crushed pineapple.
Pour over green jello and let set up.

Top Layer
Mix 3 cups of hot water and 2 boxes of cherry jello. Pour over top of yellow filled middle.

I found this pennant at a junk store in Tallahassee, FL. What a find! It brought back so many memories. Did you ever go to Lake Shawnee near Princeton, WV? I loved going through the gates and many dressing rooms and then seeing THE BIG SLIDE! Wasn’t that awewome? I think that is where Wanda held me out of the water by my ponytail until Mom could get to me. As I remember, who knows if that’s correct, I saw a fellow swimming in the deeper area with a mask and snokel. It looked like fun, so I think I just jumped in… but didn’t know how to swim:(

Wanda, can you help me recollect?

sherry