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Ida Mae

Ida Mae Michael Propsom Appalachian Heritage, Volume 22, Number 1, Winter 1994, pp. 24-31 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.1994.0132 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/437182/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 21:14 GMT from JHU Libraries FICTION Michael Propsom One by one they passed by Ida Mae's chair in a sluggish river of sorrow and condolences. Another hand pressed upon hers, another voice whispered, "Sorry about John Thomas." The women usually stopped longer than their men, taking time to touch her hand or shoulder and offer help with anything she might need. Though they seemed sincere, Ida Mae sensed the unspoken relief that it was John Thomas and not their own husbands who had succumbed to black lung. The men filed past more quickly. Most slowed barely long enough to nod and offer an uncomfortable, "Sorry, ma'am," before joining others in the kitchen to quietly discuss the opening of deer season. A few men wore the mask of compassion, but the majority displayed a polite indifference. They had known too many others who had coughed out their lungs or been entombed by cave-ins. Early death was a fact of life for the men of http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

Ida Mae

Propsom, Michael.
Appalachian Review , Volume 22 (1) – Jan 8, 2014
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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
2692-9244
eISSN
2692-9287

Abstract

Michael Propsom Appalachian Heritage, Volume 22, Number 1, Winter 1994, pp. 24-31 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.1994.0132 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/437182/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 21:14 GMT from JHU Libraries FICTION Michael Propsom One by one they passed by Ida Mae's chair in a sluggish river of sorrow and condolences. Another hand pressed upon hers, another voice whispered, "Sorry about John Thomas." The women usually stopped longer than their men, taking time to touch her hand or shoulder and offer help with anything she might need. Though they seemed sincere, Ida Mae sensed the unspoken relief that it was John Thomas and not their own husbands who had succumbed to black lung. The men filed past more quickly. Most slowed barely long enough to nod and offer an uncomfortable, "Sorry, ma'am," before joining others in the kitchen to quietly discuss the opening of deer season. A few men wore the mask of compassion, but the majority displayed a polite indifference. They had known too many others who had coughed out their lungs or been entombed by cave-ins. Early death was a fact of life for the men of

Journal

Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 2014

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