The second and third generations of the original Appalachian settlers eventually pressed against the limits of sustenance. Migrating from the low valleys into the creek branches, sub-valleys and steep hillsides, these families had extreme difficulty farming the rocky terrain. Barely able to make a living from their crops, many families fell into poverty, leading to widespread disease and malnutrition.

Early twentieth century social workers were horrified with some of the conditions they found there: little or no sanitation, children lacking shoes or fresh clothes, families with ten to twelve kids crammed into dirty, one-room shacks. Distrusting of "furriners" toting little black bags filled with "black magic," some mountain families became their own pharmacists, using odd assortments of herbs, tonics and roots to treat everything from typhoid fever to measles. As a result, the mortality rate soared.

These social workers brought what was to become the first wave of modernization to the hills. Trained nurses would set up shop in the communities and teach families about personal hygiene and homemaking skills. Fathers were taught how to read and write. Corps of midwives traveled throughout the hills helping deliver babies. Some of these social workers were indeed heroes, riding across terrible mountain roads, swollen streams and swinging bridges to reach the isolated families.

In the early 1900s, large lumber companies began to eye the Southern Appalachian region. The region had been generally bypassed for the flatlands of Mississippi and Louisiana, but after these areas had been fully "slashed and burned," lumber scouts began discovering the virgin hardwood forests in the hills. Mill towns and railroads sprung up seemingly overnight, scarring the landscape and causing major pollution and erosion problems. Human life and land were cheap for many of these companies: loggers were forced to work extremely long hours with the constant threat of accidents, dismemberment and death. Despite the risks, however, many mountain residents were forced to work for the companies to support their impoverished families.

With the construction of new highways, modern influences began to have a dramatic impact on mountain life and culture. The influx of radio, television and printed matter diluted traditional mountain speech. Younger families, faced with a bleak future in the hills, migrated to the cities. One by one, the mountain communities emptied.

But perhaps there's something about the fear associated with rapid modernization that has lately made people nostalgic for the "old ways." For thousands of tourists visit the Appalachian Mountains each year searching for signs of early mountain culture. Past the curio shops and amusement parks, they are likely to see and hear traces of early mountain life: an elderly farmer still plowing his steep fields with a team of horses, story swapping on country store porches, traditional bluegrass music on a community radio station, hand-carved crafts, fiddles and dulcimers, small white churches dotting the hillsides. In mountain speech, one can still hear words and expressions from pre-colonial times.

Although it is unclear what will happen in the next century, our constant need for the reassuring simplicity of the "old ways" is likely to keep Appalachian Mountain culture alive for generations to come.

For more information on Appalachian Mountain history and culture, check out the following links:

Appalshop is a media arts center in Whitesburg, Kentucky that produces and presents work which celebrates the culture and voices the concerns of people living in the Appalachian Mountains.

The Foxfire books and magazines are still the definitive publications on Appalachian culture. Check out The Foxfire Fund Web site for more information on this very important organization.