A Day That Reminded Me What Community Really Means

by Margaret Demko

Saturday's Healthy Meals for Healthy Minds food giveaway left a deep impact on me. More importantly, it reminded me of what a food box, a turkey, and fresh produce truly mean to a real family living far back in the hills of Vinton County.

Many people know that I spent 20 years working for Family and Children First in Vinton County. My role was not limited to coordinating the council. I was the service coordinator, the grant writer and manager, and the person who delivered whatever support the council approved directly to the families. The work lifted my spirits on most days, but on others, the weight of the deep, generational poverty tucked into the Appalachian hills was almost too heavy to carry.

Twelve years ago, I met a young couple who were newly pregnant. Both were significantly developmentally delayed, but they were supported by the father’s family. Except for the family patriarch, nearly everyone in their extended family has developmental delays. They live partway up a hill that no regular vehicle can climb, without running water and with limited food, limited transportation, and at times even limited electricity. Their family has lived this way for generations.

Yet they own their land. They take pride in always paying their property taxes on time. Their family bonds are strong, often stronger than what we see in many other communities. They help one another, lean on cousins and neighbors, and welcome anyone who visits with honesty and without judgment. Grandpa remains the head of the family, the one whose decisions everyone trusts.

Over the years, I was involved with them through Children Services calls, Community Action issues with PIPP and HEAP, wood deliveries to heat their home in winter, Christmas gifts, and countless medicine drop-offs. The baby they were expecting back then is now 11 years old. He does not have developmental delays. He has become Grandpa’s right-hand helper. In that same time, the family has endured three heartbreaking losses, including the passing of the matriarch who cooked for everyone and made sure groceries made it up the hill.

There were times I visited simply to check on them. Other times I would make my way up the muddy hill in old clothes and sit on the porch or in their cluttered yard. I listened, talked with them, and tried to show that someone saw them. In return, they taught me what Appalachian culture truly is. It is unshakeable family ties, doing what you can with what you have, and welcoming others with an open heart.

Yesterday I was able to take them a Healthy Meals for Healthy Minds food basket, since they now have no transportation at all. Their SNAP benefits were suspended this month, and I knew they were struggling. Grandpa had texted me several times. I can no longer offer anything but friendship and phone numbers for resources. Yesterday, though, I was able to offer something real, needed, and hopeful.

Their son rode down the hill on a lawn mower with a cart attached and yelled, “Where you been, Margaret?” before hugging me with his mud-covered clothes. He helped load the food into the cart. When he saw the strawberries, he ate three of them immediately before heading back up the hill. I carried the eggs myself and walked up to see their new house, a small storage shed they bought for $312. They could not be prouder of it.

I helped them put the food in the fridge and the turkey in the freezer. The freezer held almost nothing else. The only produce in the entire home was a single bag of potatoes sitting on a chair in their makeshift kitchen. Their son said he loved turkey, and Grandpa admitted they would not have had one this year without the food box.

As I talked with his mother, the son finished almost all the strawberries, looked longingly at the blueberries, and asked if I brought ranch dressing for the sweet peppers. I told him that maybe next time I could.

After hugs from everyone, I made my way carefully back down the hill. When I reached my car, I felt a rush of gratitude for what I have, for the privilege I have been afforded throughout my life, and for the honor of being connected to the deep Appalachian culture this family represents so beautifully.

The day was powerful not only because of this family, but also because of the many others I have known for years who came through the line. I saw the little girl who once jumped into my arms, the young mother who thanked me for feeding her baby and teaching her how to make a bottle during a failure-to-thrive crisis, and so many other faces I have worried about. Yesterday I knew that each had one large, healthy meal for themselves and their children.

I am sharing this long story to recognize the work that the Appalachian Children Coalition is doing, to say thank you for making this possible, and to remind all of us that for many families, yesterday was not about getting something for free. It was about hope. It was about a bit of light in what can often feel like a very difficult horizon.

About the author:

Margaret Demko is the Grant Manager for the Appalachian Children Coalition and a native of Steubenville, Ohio. She has lived in Athens County since 1993. Before joining ACC, she served as the coordinator for Vinton County's Family and Children First Council and as the program manager for Vinton County's Help Me Grow program.