Another memory that I will never forget is about mushrooms.
I love mushrooms and will put them on almost everything. This goes back to
the time when I was about 10 years of age and my Uncle Tuck took
me mushroom hunting with him. It was after a good rain in the spring and wild
mushrooms had all ‘sprung’ everywhere not very far from my grandfather’s house.
We went off so that he could show me which were good mushrooms and which were
bad and how to tell the difference, and also explaining to me that to pick
the wrong one would, to say the least, make me extremely ill.
Joe, Grace, and Tuck (on right), three of the 12 Whetstone children.
The Whetstone Boys: Joe, Jimmy, Tuck (right front), and Tad.
I did very well over the years as far as mushroom
picking was concerned but when I was sixteen I became a little careless. I was
preparing to go to the Easter Sunrise Service on Dan’s Mountain and a beautiful
place to see the sunrise on Easter Sunday morning. On Easter Saturday morning I
awoke and saw that it had rained the night before and I just knew that all
those beautiful mushrooms would be out and plentiful. So off I went.
My Uncle Tuck and his wife Alva.
(Leslie Laurence Whetstone 1905-1995)
I picked a good many lovely mushrooms and later that evening I cooked a large skillet-full, and since no one else wanted them, I ate them all. Now I have never had a weight problem and was always a very healthy person so when I woke up at 3 O’clock in the morning and was a very, very sick girl I figured that I had poisoned myself. Being young and healthy and after empting my stomach I made it to the Sunrise Service albeit a little weak
and sleepy. One would think that a person would not look at a mushroom
again but no such thing happened to me and I still love them.
My Mama with me sitting on the front porch of the Whetstone home. 1918.
My Grandfather Whetstone standing next to the water pump in the yard. 1900.