The New Frontier

In the early days of American social development Civilization travelled from thev East Coast ever Westward. Frederick Jackson Turner had "the Frontier Thesis" that stated that the Frontier was a safety valve that acted as relief to social conditions to a growing mass of immigrants to the new world. A Frenchman, Alexis De Tocqueville wrote later of the raw spirit of Americans on the frontier in his memoirs about American Democracy. His travels along the frontier during the 1820's were fascinating reading to later historians and Europeans. He was particularly fascinated with the habit of spitting on the muddy sidewalks that the frontiersmen exhibited with regularity. Nothing good lasts forever , and the United States Department of Interior officially declared that the frontier was no more in existence in 192; the Safety Valve was gone forever! One might ask how then do modern Americans relieve stress when they cannot just pack up and move across the mountains when things become unbearable?Well, we as a society have had to become very innovative and invent new ways to beat stress and monotony. I vividly remember my grandfather who was born coincidentally in 1892, the end of the frontier. He never worked a day in his life that I can remember and raised a family of ten children on a small subsistence farm. He never had running water in his house , and resisted any effort of his children to modernize or come into the 20th century. He had a wood cookstove that my grandmother prepared three meals a day like clockwork on, and the rest of the time he sat on the porch chewing tobacco and whittling. In cold weather he sat by a coal stove and did equally nothing , just like summer. He didn't read or participate in anything intellectual. Not being a particularly religious man, he "allowed" my grandmother and the children to go to church, yet refrained from going himself. Living to be around 80 years old, he probably only saw a MD a couple of times in his life, and stayed remarkably fit and healthy for the lifestyle he chose. Not a believer in any form of alcohol, chewing tobacco his only vice, he was all in all a very honorable and proud man. While refusing to come into the modern world, he would have me take him to the grocery store once a week in my then Ultra hip Ford Grand Torino with the big tires and shiny chrome wheels, the 351 Cleveland growling as we went up Kings Mountain Hill in a streak of metallic blue. PawPaw would have his elbow out the window watching the scenery go by as we talked about times past, his favorite riding horse while he was a young man down in Middleburg,Casey County , the scene of his youth. He never seemed to think my hair was getting too long, or that I was anything other than his companion on short adventures. PawPaw died in the Seventies after I graduated from college and he was buried in Middleburg Cemetary next to his father, who was buried next to his father who was buried next to his father. Later in 1990 my own father was interred next to PawPaw, way too early, but laid to rest nontheless. Altogether there are five of my ancestors laid peacefully in a row, overlooking the pretty little valley that most of them had called home since the early 1800's. I sometimes envy them the peace and harmony that they shared in their lives; a commonality that I have never known or attained, and not likely to ever achieve. I have always envied their inner strength and composure and felt alien from their world. My own life is too jumbled to ever have peace, and I guess I wouldn't want it any other way. I've often wondered if I would have gotten along with my ancestors and inevitably come up with the conclusion that we wouldn't have much in common from what I've heard and observed. I guess I've gotten too much from my mother, which isn't a compliment to her at this life. Old De Tocqueville was right in a lot of things to be a Frenchman. I learned most of this while drawing numbers on round track cars for my mentor Danny Coffman and his band of henchmen.