We sat in a semicircle around the trusty Duotherm oil heater, the only warm place in our house, as the wind whistled through the limbs of the apple trees outside the windows. Nearby an Admiral radio emitted the wail of a country song by means of WSM in Nashville and the Grand Ole Opry.

Momma had made popcorn and she and Daddy and I enjoyed the salty treat interrupted only by an occasional sip of hot chocolate. This night could have been almost any winter Saturday night but I believe this one was probably 1951, the year I entered the 1st grade.

In the mountains of the Blue Ridge, a few miles east of the Smokey’s, snow in the winter was almost as common as the sun. But this year was different. We had several days of temperatures in the low 20’s and teens and freezing rain and sleet. The…