Chapter Two
The Little White House
Leaving Short Fork Hollow wasn't an easy decision for my parents.
My father had spent his entire life there. The mountains, the land, and the old family home were part of who he was. But Mom knew there had to be an easier way for Calvin and me.
We rented a little white house on Falcon Road.
I was still very young, but that little house became one of my favorite places from childhood. It sat on a small hill overlooking the road, and even today, when I drive past it, I find myself slowing down.
For just a moment, I'm not an adult anymore. I'm that little girl again.
One of my favorite memories happened there on Thanksgiving. Mom had the turkey in the oven, and the whole house smelled like a holiday. She was making banana pudding, carefully placing vanilla wafers around it.
Every time she turned her back, my little fingers would sneak across the counter and steal one. I thought I was being quiet. Eventually, she caught me.
Looking back, it's funny how the smallest moments become some of the memories we treasure most.
Not long after moving to Falcon Road, my parents decided they wanted something more permanent.
In 1986, we packed our belongings once again and left our hometown for Paintsville, Kentucky.
For the first time in my life, I would be leaving behind everything familiar.
I didn't know it then, but Paintsville would become the place where some of the happiest memories of my childhood—and some of the most heartbreaking—would be made.