6 Pages

Escape from th palchians

ByFrederic B. Tate

As a child I simply did not fit in. I grew up in the 1950s in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains, where the tips of North Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia all blended into one. Like the other children, I ran barefoot in the summer, swam in the cool mountain lakes, and caught fireflies in jars at night. Each autumn I was amazed by the beauty of the colored leaves extending as far as the eye could see. When the soft snow fell in the winter, I would hike with my friends to the top of the mountains far above the timberline and watch the white flakes cover the dormant mountain laurels.