My name is Gussie Beckelhimer Williams. I was born on December 23, 1903, at Harper, WV, on my grandfather's farm.

My parents were Levi and Annie Wilson Beckelhimer. My grandpa Beckelhimer's grandpa, Jacob Bedkelhimer, came from Germany and first settled at Hinton, WV. From there, he moved to Harper Road, located along Paint Creek.

According to legend, Paint Creek was named by the Indians who traveled along beside it and marked their trail with colored mud.

Grandpa Beckelhimer was a very hard working man who built a log house at Harper, WV. He made his own furniture and constructed a huge fireplace. We burned wood, never realizing that coal existed.

Some of the chestnut rail fences' built by Grandpa are still standing, although most have been worn down by time and weather.

My mother often told me that when she was young, she sometimes had to borrow fire from a neighbor. She lighted a fine torch and quickly returned home to light a fire. They had no matches to use.

My father was only twelve years old when he went to work on a near-by farm owned by Joe Harper. He earned fifty cents a day plus room and board.

He married my mother when he was twenty years old. She was twenty-one. They had ten children -- seven girls and three boys.

Our family made our home in the log house that Grandpa built. There we cared for him until he died. We all worked in the fields because it was necessary for everyone to do his share of the work.

We went to school six months out of the year. Dad helped to teach us our lessons while we sat on a bench by the fireplace. He knew how to read the signs of the moon and used this knowledge to plant our crops.

We had two horses, two cows, hogs and chickens on our farm.

We used to watch the animals' reactions to the weather. When the cold wind began to blow, the hogs would carry leaves in their mouths and made beds in the sink holes. There they would gather for warmth from the storm.

The hens would build their nests and bring the baby chicks to them. The little ones would gather under her feathers, and she would cover them with her wings. When a hawk would fly near, she would call for help.

One of our main concerns was storing enough food for the long winter. There were no jars then, so mother would put pickles in a vinegar barrel in salt brine. Apples were put into stone jars. Hanovers, turnips and cabbages were buried head down in the earth for storage, as were potatoes. Pumpkins were inserted within corn shucks, which also served as fodder for the animals.

Money was scarce, but staples were necessary. We had our corn ground at the community mill. We paid $.15 a pound for "Arbuckle Coffee" beans and ground them in our own coffee mill.

Flour cost $.50 for a 20-pound bag. It was stored in a dry place, such as a barrel, covered tightly to keep out mice and insects.

Most of our clothing was hand sewn. A spool of thread and a yard of calico cloth cost $.05 each. Gloves and socks were made at home. Shoes were repaired for extra long wear and were resoled on a shoe last.

Twigs or goose feathers were used to stuff mattresses for our beds. Our soap was made at home. Cleanliness was very important.

Everyone who was old enough to work did so. We hoed corn all week for Uncle Hines, who paid us $.75 on Saturday. He mined coal at Eccles mines.

I remember that one time I thought that I heard thunder rumbling int he distance. Later, we found out that there was an underground explosion at the Eccles Mine.

In summer, we earned extra money picking berries and selling them for $.25 per gallon. We also gathered walnuts and chestnuts for sale. Following a cow path into the woods and fields to gather the fruit and nuts would take hours. We carried a bag of brown sugar for nourishment. The sugar sold for $.10 a pound.

My mother helped to raise some of her grandchildren.

When there was a death in the family, neighbors could be counted on to help out. Some carpenter would fashion a casket from wood. Others would dig a grave. There were no flowers unless it was summer, and they could be gathered from flower beds or fields. Food was prepared by the neighbors, and no one ever thought of being paid for these services.

We had a playhouse in the woods. Children could escape into a world of make-believe where playhouses were built with rocks for furniture and beds made of moss. Rag dolls would become live companions, and for a short time we became children of a fantasy world.

The world of reality still awaited us. Both World Wars left imprints on our lives.

I married Henry W. Williams in 1918, and we made our home at Willis Branch, where I still live.

Henry was a veteran of World War I and fought in Germany. There he inhaled the dreaded mustart gas which affected his health until his death on November 16, 1931.

I was left a widow with three young daughters.

Life became a struggle, but I asked the Lord for strength to endure. I managed to provide a home for the children and they all graduated from high school with good records. We all worked hard, but they have done well and are devoted, responsible adults.

Violet, Lovell, and Dorothy have families of their own. I now have five generations: eight grandchildren, thirteen great grandchildren, and one great, great grandchild.

My life has been blessed, and I give all the credit to the Lord.

My home is still at Willis Branch, WV, where I like to live alone and keep busy with my own cooking, gardening, and housework.

I always enjoyed visiting the sick and needy and walking in the woods. I miss my friend, Virgie Green, who used to go with me on hikes through the woods. She taught me lots about wildlife, and was a good companion. She has been dead for several years.

I'm looking forward to celebrating my eighty-ninth birthday. I enjoy reading my Bible and serving the Lord.

I believe there is just one God. All you have to do is to reach out to Him, and the only payment to a spiritual life is to believe in the Lord.