Kiss Upon the Brow

By Linda Neal Kinser

About Kiss Upon the Brow:

The story takes place in the foothills of Kentucky on the appalachian line. The time is the 1950's into the early 1960's.

Goosy was born into extreme poverty; however, she was nearing ten years of age before she realized that her family was destitute. Her vibrant personality and her innate ability to memorize lines led her to excell in school. Her hunger for mischef however, pointed her in the direction of trouble from time to time.

."I could hear Don hollering, 'Goosy's kilt, Goosy's Kilt!' "

."Eat it? I thougt to myself, so, that's what I did. I ate it. I was amazed that I had eaten the cup that a mere few moments ago had been filled with ice cream."

.."huh, I've been referred to as fiesty, high-strung, silly and the word hyperactivity has been tossed around. I guess that means I have a pretty good case of hypersillitivity."

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Apr 4, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456738143

Linda Neal Kinser

LInda Neal Kinser was born into a destitute family in Wayne County, Kentucky. She was one of seven children. Her family relocated to Clinton County, Kentucky when she was five years old. As a child, Linda spent much of her time daydreaming of graduating from the University of Kentucky. At the age of 24, Linda earned her associate degree in nursing from the University of Kentucky Community College. She began her career as a registered nurse at the Clinton County (KY) Hospital. Six years later, she attained a Bachelor of Science degree in Nursing from the University of Kentucky(1981). The major portion of her career was spent teaching practical nursing and surgical technology for Kentucky's technical college system. Linda carries an appreciation for her opportunities to have traveled to the Hawaiian Islands, Alaska, Bahamman Islands, Canada and Mexico. She has also spent time in the majority of the states in the continential U.S. Linda now resides in Bowling Green, Kentucky, where she works as a substitute teacher and enjoys spending time with her grandchildren.

Book preview

KISS UPON THE BROW

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by LINDA NEAL KINSER

The heartwarming true story of a little girl’s journey

through extreme poverty on the Appalachian line.

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

© 2011 Linda Neal Kinser. All rights reserved.

Cover Image: Zoey Grace Shelton, the author’s granddaughter

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse   4/23/2011

ISBN: 978-1-4567-3815-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4567-3814-3 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4567-3813-6 (dj)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2011902145

Printed in the United States of America

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

To my three children:

Ellona, Kennon and LeMegan

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would be remiss if I didn’t thank the person who had the greatest influence on the writing of this letter—my teacher, Gene Latham. Gene had enduring patience with me, believed in me and never gave up on me, helping to mold me into who I am today. He passed on his knowledge of history, mathematics, literature and life to me and he taught me how to get to the crux of a good story. It is because of him that I excelled in chemistry, physics, epidemiology and statistics at the University of Kentucky. I feel fortunate to have had Gene as my teacher for four of my formative years of education. From the bottom of my heart, thank you Gene!

I also would like to acknowledge Dan and Katie Robinson’s help in the preparation of the manuscript as well as the emotional support and the editing help that I have received from my children Thanks, kids!

FORWARD

I’ve always wondered why my Momma is the way she is. My whole life as I was growing up, she often seemed dreamy and aloof. Once, when I took her to the airport she was dressed to kill; her hair was perfect, nails were freshly polished, and she was sporting four inch heels. Yet, when I picked her up twenty-four hours later, her shoes were gone and she had traveling socks on her feet. I asked, Momma, where are your shoes?

She smiled slightly, and gently raised her eyebrows, and stated, Those clover blossoms in my hair wilted. I thought, My momma is truly crazy. She continued, I am merely reliving a childhood memory.

Another time, we were in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, and we walked into a little specialty shop. After a minute or so, I was ready to go. Momma asked me to go ahead to the shop next door. She said, I want to spend a little more time looking at all of these mustards.

I said, Mustards? Why on earth are you so interested in mustards?!

All she offered was, I’m lured to them by a childhood memory.

I walked ahead to the little shop next door. All the while, I was remembering that she always eats mustard on her French fries, and on her meatloaf.

When Momma finally joined me, I said, "It seems to me, Momma, that every time you make a statement that I think is ‘off the wall’ you respond by saying ‘it’s a childhood memory’.

And another thing, Momma, whenever we go shopping, you always watch people intensely. You say people-watching brings back childhood memories.

"Momma, all I know about your life as a little girl is that you were a ‘daddy’s girl and that you were a teacher’s pet. And that you loved gymnastics and cheerleading. I also know that you were a high school class officer and that you played the lead part in your high school’s junior play. That’s all I know.

Tell me the whole story, Momma. Tell me all about when you were a little girl. I want to know what it was like to grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth.

Momma looked bewildered and she said, Oh, Loni, it was hardly like that at all. And to tell you all about me when I was a little girl would take too long. The memories that I hold of my childhood, why, they date back to my third year. But, I want to know everything, I insisted.

And, so she made me a promise, here’s what I’ll do for my dear children: I will write my life down as I remember it. Some day you can read about me; and, maybe you will better understand where I came from and where I’ve been. For, at the moment of my untimely death God knows where I will go.

She kept her promise. The following is the story of my momma’s life as a little girl. After reading this letter, I gained a whole new respect for Momma and my thoughts about her will never be the same.

Ellona Lu Shelton

Contents

GEESE AND GOOSEY, QUACK QUACK!

BOXES, TIN CANS, AND LITTLE JARS

FOLK STORIES RIDDLES AND RUCKUS

PEACHY, PEACHES AND NOT SO PEACHY

GASH AND GRANDMA, OH MY GOODNESS!

STRAIGHT AHEAD AND CROOKED AS A BLACK SNAKE

WEST ON 90 GOING 20

MORELS, THRILLS AND HILLS

WORMS, FITS AND FUN

THE MUD ROAD HOME

SAWBRIARS, SUNDAY, AND SHOVING

BULL, MUD AND CATNIP

SLIP AND OOPS! GOOSEY SLIPPED

BABY DOLLS, LITTLE BOTTLES AND RAGS

SHOT WEEK AND WEAKLINGS

GOOSEY’S A HUMMER

MUMPS… DON’T JUMP!

POX! DON’T SCRATCH!

DEPRESSION, DENTIST, AND LAW! LAW!

PRANCING AND DANCING UH! OH!

MARCH MADNESS, CAYWOOD AND U.K. …

TRANCE, CHANCE AND A BIT OF CHANGE

SHOO FLIES SHOO

IF’S ANDS AND BARKS

ROBIN EGGS AND A PEANUT… FAIR FOR GOOSEY

WHERE OH BOY MEETS ‘ATTA GIRL!

AUTHORS NOTE

While Kiss Upon the Brow is a work of non-fiction, the sequence of chronological events may be somewhat skewed, as I am trying to remember events from some fifty-five odd years ago. Nonetheless, this is a true story.

Please remember that I am not a professional writer. There will be imperfections in the grammatical structure of this composition. Some years ago, I made a decision not to burden or bore my children with tales of my poverty-stricken beginnings. Now that I am entering the sunset of my life, I realize that my story is similar to a family recipe; it should be passed on.

So here goes. Get comfortable, relax, and enjoy. Or brace yourself and hold on. Either way, you’re in for one roller coaster of a ride.

November 14, 2009

My Dearest Children,

My birth certificate states that Linda Faye Neal was born in Wayne County, Kentucky, on January 1, 1951 to Mary Lucille and Chester Lee Neal. According to the zodiac jargon, that makes me a Capricorn— a ‘late bloomer.’ My mother told me that this event took place in a big white farmhouse on Bunkum Road. She said that Daddy went to Monticello and brought Dr. Mack Roberts back with him to deliver the baby at home. It was a very cold night, windy and a big snow on the ground, blizzard conditions. Later that night they learned that there would be two babies. I had a twin brother. Mommy and Daddy named us Linda Faye and Donald Lee. We weighed five pounds each and were nearly perfect.

Of course, I was the one who peed on the doctor.

Donald and I joined two older sisters: Tinky (Juanita), the eldest at three years and Joey (Wanda), age two. Mommy didn’t have baby beds for Donald and me, so she pulled out two dresser drawers and bedded us down, one drawer for each of us.

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GEESE AND GOOSEY, QUACK QUACK!

My first memory is from when I was three years old. I remember a warm sunny morning. Daddy picked me up in one arm and had a milk pail on the other. He walked down the path to the barn. The Fescue and other variations of grasses on either side of the path were wet with dew and taller than I was. When we arrived at the barn, Daddy set me down just outside so that he could milk the cow. Or maybe there were two cows; I can’t exactly remember. Anyway, while he was milking I stood by a woven wire fence and shook it violently; well, as violently as a little three year old girl could shake a fence. When we got back to the house, Mommy was in the kitchen cooking gravy and biscuits for breakfast.

That morning at the breakfast table Mommy and Daddy talked about how I’d shaken the fence to make the geese quack. It was during their conversation that I learned why I had shaken the fence in the first place. After that morning I became known as Goosey. When Daddy reached for me the following morning he said, Let’s go, Goosey. So, Goosey I became for the next several years.

Ten months before my third birthday my little sister Katie (Kaye) had been born. I don’t remember her birth. But I do remember an event that occurred when Katie was a one year old. One beautiful sunny summer afternoon, we misplaced her! After a long forty-five minutes or so which we spent searching around the barn, the pond, and what I thought was every nook and cranny of the house, we found her asleep in a box of clothes.

We woke her up. Her bright eyes, prances and giggles were evidence that she was happy that she had been the subject of such a commotion.

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BOXES, TIN CANS, AND LITTLE JARS

The long days that followed were filled with laughter and fun as we siblings scampered outdoors together in our bare feet. There were no toys so we played with oat boxes, sugar bags, jack mackerel cans and such. We spent all day outdoors climbing trees, pouring tin cans of water in the dirt, and stirring the mixture with a stick and packing our mud delicacies into various cups, tin cans, and little jars. Then we turned them upside down and gently removed the contents to unveil our final masterpieces. Sometimes I would take a little taste; the product just looked soo yummy I just couldn’t resist. Why, how could I? That sandy dirt glistened like sugar in the sunlight. It’s a wonder that I didn’t start vomiting, get diarrhea, or worse yet, worms.

We came indoors when we heard Mommy holler, Come and get it while it’s hot! She would always say, Get warshed up and ready to eat. All of us kids would gather around a warsh pan and warsh at the same time. (We all said warsh like that back then). When we sat down to eat all of the kids were quiet. If there was any talking to be done, Mommy and Daddy did the talking.

Supper at the Neal house usually consisted of pinto beans, cornbread, and one-half of a pint of milk for each of us. A gallon of milk had to be divided into nine parts; a glass for each family member, some to make cornbread, and some was saved to make tomorrow’s breakfast gravy.

When I was four years old, one night in late March while I was asleep, I got a new baby brother; Ronnie Boy (Ronald). What a beautiful miracle he was.

By late fall, he could crawl with his butt up toward the sky then, he’d roll over and laugh out loud. I remember him playing outdoors on sunny days, toddling and holding on to the fence to stand upright. He always wore one of mommy’s old worn out fancy hats and walked straight with