Introduction by:  B. L. Dotson-Lewis 

            My father grew up on a large farm in Buchanan County, Virginia.   The farm was a portion of a larger tract of land my grandmother's family owned when my grandfather married into the family.  The portion my father lived on was located up Jim's Fork which was as well known for its steep, rocky, hillside farms as the moonshine it exported. 

             When my father was growing up chores were assigned to sons and daughters at an early age and since the farming was done without benefit of modern farming equipment, it was necessary for the entire family to help out.

 This is one of the stories my father has written about growing up on a farm during the early 1900s in southwest Virginia in the hills and mountains of Appalachia.

 Copperhead

    Earl Dotson (left) sister Rose (girl on right) Frank in riding boots and hat --
     other brothers and sisters

            We lived on a large farm and kept two or more milk cows.  On this particular summer evening my parents had gone to a church gathering.  My  sister Rose and I were all alone at home.  She was around 17 and I was 7 or 8.

            Rose told me to go to the field and drive the cows home so she could milk before dark.  We all knew there were many rattlesnakes and copperheads in the area, especially the cow pasture.  When Pa cleared the timber to make a cow pasture, tree stumps were cut as close to the ground as possible with the remains left to rot - the  perfect hiding place for snakes.

            I was soon able to hear the cow bells far back near the timber about a mile from the house.  When I climbed the hill and got near the cows, I came close to an old stump with a fresh  groundhog track on the upper side.  I heard my older brother Frank talk about hunting and trapping groundhogs and I thought that would be a good place. 

            Well, I thought while I am here, I will smooth out and pack the dirt down and make a place to set a trap.  When I stuck my left hand back in the hole something struck hard.  My hand was bleeding and burning real bad.

            Now, just to think how foolish a boy can be, I done the very thing I should not have done.  I thought the groundhog had bitten me. So, I thought, I will carry rocks and stop up the hole and tomorrow Frank and I will come and dig him out.  I carried a few rocks but my tongue began getting stiff and swollen.  My hand and arm was swelling also.  The two small holes in my hand where I had been bitten was oozing black blood out.

            I tried to unbutton my shirtsleeve but I could not.  I started walking toward the house but I kept staggering and falling down like a drunk man.  All I could see was just a blur.  I got close enough to see the house and I tried to holler out for help but I couldn't.  My tongue was so swollen it was choking me to death.  My legs gave way.  I fell and could not get up.  I knew I would not make it. 

            Rose had come hunting for me.  She carried and dragged me to the yard.  Rose knew it was a bad snake bite but didn't know what to do, no phones, no car, no neighbors close by, no doctors within miles.  The only sound I remember was my sister Rose crying and praying - my heart was pounding and fluttering like it would tear out of my body.

            So, it was left to Rose and the good Lord and she was constantly talking to him.  I went into shock or a coma.  I don't know which one. 

            I have always wondered what plans the good Lord had for me -  why he did not just let me go away and save all the agony my family went through for the next four days.

            But in four days the smell of Turpentine woke me up.  Rose was by my bed.  She was the first to notice my eyes were open and I was looking at all the empty bottles of Turpentine on the floor.  She began to cry.  My hand was in a pail of cold water laced with the medicine.  She said that she changed the water every hour and poured in Turpentine each time.  

            My family were all there.  I could hear them talk.  They talked so low, almost a whisper.  They talked so kind to one another.

            I heard them say, "He may be a cripple, the poison may settle in his joints or in his brain but thank God he is alive."

            I told Frank where it happened.  He took his rifle and found the place.  He said that a very large copperhead snake was coiled up on the stump sticking out her ole black tongue.

            She would bite no more.           

                                                Earl Dotson         posted April 12, 2004 

           April 12, 2004