What’s Vance’s “hillbilly” background? Via The AP:
…the Vance name also served to tie JD more clearly to what he writes was “hillbilly royalty” on his grandfather’s side not long before he would release a book opining on hillbilly culture.
Yep, a last name change, from Hamel to Vance, just for his book. That’s his connection to Hillbilly culture—his grandfather’s “royalty”.
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Me? Despite being an only child living in uptown Manhattan, I am the son of two actual Appalachian Hillbillies. My Mom, one of eight kids, grew up in a real log cabin in a “holler” in West Virginia. She shared one pair of “dress” shoes with her two older sisters, taking turns to wear them to church.
My Dad’s Dad was a raging alcoholic Virginian Irish Hillbilly who beat Dad’s Mom on the regular, and occasionally took shots at Dad. James (my Dad) was already 6’-4” at 13-years-old and Grandpappy turned “less physical” by then, though he would still throw empty whiskey bottles at Dad’s head.
On his death bed, Grandpop told my Dad: “Jimmy, I see fire everywhere”. James Duffy responded: “That’s Hell, that’s where you’re going”. End of story.
More stories and proof that I am more of Hillbilly than JD below.
How many outhouses has JD shit in? The answer is zero. I’ve shit in three different outhouses, one of them scores of times, often in Winter, once while staring at a huge black widow spider, always with no “seat”. Ass directly on or hovering over wood. “Terlet” seats are for flatlanders.
How many times has JD slept three to a bed? Again, the answer is zero. Many times I slept with an uncle (Keith) and cousin (I have hundreds? of cousins) in the same bed. With no heat in that homemade “holler” house (there was a small wood burning stove in the central living room), we were all fine with the arrangement, a couple of heavy homemade blankets atop us.
How many times has JD eaten squirrel? Zero times. I’ve eaten the rodent many times, always shot by one of my uncles. It’s never not “squirrel season”. Gotta put food on the table. Not bad, a little more “gamey” than deer.
Has JD ever said, “I’m so hungry I could eat the ass out of low-flying duck”?
How many times has JD taken a communal weekly bath (usually Saturday nights) in a metal tub of water heated up on a wood-burning stove? ZER-O. Me, yes, many times. Never “first” in line.
My grandfather died from black lung from working in coal mines, starting at 16-years-old.
I had a great uncle named “Bant” (also a coal miner, of course). His face looked like this.
Has JD ever sat on a back porch and shot Hills Bros coffee cans 50 yards away with a 100-year-old bolt-action .22?
Has JD ever come face-to-face with a Black Bear while deer-hunting?
Has JD ever in fact ever climbed a mountain?
Has JD ever chopped wood?
Slopped pigs?
Has JD ever taken a can of wet dirt out into the wet holler grass at night looking to grab nightcrawlers (bait)?
Has JD ever stood in a “crick” turning over rocks looking for crawldads (bait)? Of course not. Again, I have many times, one time a water moccasin skittered right by legs, moving about 20 mph, didn’t stop to bite me. My uncle barely took notice, just muttered (heavy draw) “water moccasin”.
Above, the Hatfields. Below, my kin. Both showing four guns. Hatfields’ armory was def more extensive.