"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
John Marks says:
I lived in Cicerone during WWII and in Walton 1949 thru 1952. I
remember McKown’s creek very well. The first thing that comes to
mind is that that’s where we washed cars from time to time.
Ahhhh, memories from way back when….
On October 8, 2010 at 3:56 pm