There are several reasons why Appalachians have their own special language about their land. The most prominent reason is that ‘proper’ English simply isn’t good enough to help with navigation. Those basic terms work just fine in the foothills and the flatlands, but deep in these ranges and forests we need to get a little more specific so we don’t end up on the wrong side of the mountain. So, we tend to make up our own words or adapt existing words to take on a new or more specific meaning which is why terminology will differ depending on where you go in Appalachia.

Terminology matters just as much today as it did in the times before GPS and vehicles. Mostly because this terminology is included in the names of many places, like Mill Fall Run, and if you lose your satellite reception (which will happen in certain parts) knowing your terminology can help you “get to where you need to get” all on your own just like the early settlers or those on the Underground Railroad.

The layout of Monongah and its surrounding area is a perfect example of the terminology and its relevance. I am a ‘visual’ person so I will use lots of pictures to get you familiar with our terminology as it applies to this little town, its people and the surrounding areas.

GEOGRAPHY

Land

Well, just in case you didn’t already know, we are located in the Appalachian Mountain range which extends from the deep south all the way up into Canada on the east coast. West Virginia is the only state completely engulfed by this range. Even when we were part of Virginia, they still referred to us as “Western Virginia” and, basically treated us with the same indigence. We were those rugged, backwoods “Mountaineers” who lived off the land with only the very basics and enough to ‘care for our own’. The proper English folk of the Colonies had no use for us if they couldn’t profit from us so, the area was mostly neglected and remained severely isolated from ‘society’ until coal was discovered. By that time, we had developed our own complex language and various dialects to accommodate our environment. Despite the best efforts of the “Americanization” process of the early 20th century, that language still thrives today and it helps to know the very basics.

The Valley

Valleys are elongated lowlands between other uplands along major waterways and typically play permanent host to major cities or towns. Therefore, they are more populated and hold most of the resources for the area. Monongah sits in a valley along the West Fork River. At the time all of the ‘official’ mapping and naming was going on, we were included as part of the Monongahela/Tygart Valley Region. This probably explains why most of Monongah’s earliest settlers got their land by tomahawk rights.

When it comes to the time of tales like ‘Coffin Hollow’, this place was still just a collection of isolated farmers in a small hollow known as Briar Town. Once transport to and from the hollow was established via railroad, bringing industry and a population boom to the area, her status was upgraded to valley and the hollow known as Briar Town became the town of Monongah – a suburb of the city of Fairmont.

The Hollow

Hollows are valleys – an area of land that has been drained or irrigated over time by a water system which may or may not still exist; the second definition of the word valley. The key difference is that a hollow is located on higher ground within the landscape surrounding what is considered to be THE valley. Though the ‘mouth’ of the hollow may be located in the valley, it’s typically not the only way in or out. It’s simply the most direct way into the hollow from the main road or path which almost always follows along the main valley and its waterway, hence the term ‘mouth’.

It’s all about navigation.

The most important thing to know about what constitutes a hollow these days, is its road system. In a city, rather than walking all around the block to get to the next street, you may try to cut through an alley or ‘backstreet’ because the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, right? But, you will use caution because alleys are notorious for their potential dangers and a wrong turn can send you in the worst direction. Hollows are just like alleys.

Hollows can usually be determined by the width and conditions of their roads. An existing and mapped road wide enough for two cars to pass side by side, though it may be a tight squeeze, is your typical hollow road. The ‘mouth’ of the hollow is often paved but it doesn’t always stay that way throughout. Main routes which pass through hollows are paved, painted, and mapped by Google Earth like any typical road these days.

However, Country Roads, like the CR56s in and around Monongah, are a hit-or-miss; if they are paved, they probably don’t have lines as they typically get the most minimal of maintenance and the Google Maps car probably can’t get clear pictures on such bumpy roads. A real Country Road is more like a permanent scab of compressed dirt and gravel where the space for 2 cars means someone’s tires are riding the ditch.

If you watch this YouTube video of Hall Family Roadtrips you can see first hand how easy it is to get mixed up on these roads without some kind of navigating system or existing knowledge. I love this video for so many reasons:

1. Being from this area, the first part of this video pleases me so much as the driver ‘hits every light’ at just the right time along Fairmont Ave. You don’t realize how rare that is until you’ve worked food delivery service in that place.
2. It is a brilliant live example of what I’m trying to explain. If you look at the far right of the map above, where the yellow line turns over the word “Fairmont”, and start this video at 2:06 you can follow along on the map as they drive. Except…
3. This poor driver gets sucked into the “Country Club Trap” at 3:28. Now, this is great for you and me because it gives you a glimpse of what I mean by “hollow-holler-hollow” road systems. Notice how the road changes with its surroundings. The deeper you get into the hollow the more it starts to resemble a holler as the road narrows, the lines go away, and forest surrounds you more than residences.

   

4. Then, at 4:40, we get dropped back out next to the West Fork River on Rt. 19, exactly where we would have ended up minutes earlier if the driver had just stayed straight at the light and not turned right onto a hollow/holler road.
5. From there, you are on your way into the west side of Monongah. At 5:20, the driver passes the ‘mouth’ of Mill Fall Run on the right. At 5:32 of this video, you pull into Monongah where Rt. 19 is known as Camden Ave (because it predates the existence of Rt. 19) and it really is a blast from the past. Below is a postcard of Camden Ave around the turn of the 20th century on top of a snapshot of Camden Ave today.

   

6. At 5:50, the driver stops to turn on GPS or at least check a map right smack in the middle of Monongah, which isn’t uncommon. Monongah itself is so twisty and turny with so many ins and outs that travelers tend to get wary about making another wrong turn beyond this point. We have a saying that, “all roads lead to Monongah; you just gotta know where to turn”.

Hollow roads are sometimes several miles long and if you can navigate these Country Roads just right they can be a shortcut to the other side of the county, they can connect to other hollows, or they can take you to someplace even more awesome…

UPDATE 9/25/2018: For a bit of insight on just how hazardous these roads can be, here is an article from WSAZ reporting on a School bus that overturned when the road collapsed

The Holler

A holler is a very special place. One can only get to a real holler in a vehicle by correctly navigating the hollow. Sometimes you can only find the holler if you have been personally invited by its occupants as only they know the ways in and out. Other times, you may need to hike, bike, and/or boat your way there.

The holler is just an area past the hollow. The holler is a far more isolated place because it sits deeper in the mountains, typically below the hollow but still above the valley and can be impossible to navigate. In the right areas of the state, you can find hollows or hollers with a full rapid river, like Ten Mile in Buckhannon. In the greater Monongah area, our hollers are more likely to have nothing more than a crick which may be elevated to creek status only after heavy rains.

Where valleys typically have rivers or streams, a hollow may have nothing more than a run or brook/creek, and a holler will usually only have a crick– which, in some cases, is only around after heavy rains as it is nothing more than a natural drainage path for runoff rainwater.

You may have heard that the holler gets its name from the fact that all one must do to talk to your neighbor on the adjacent hill is simply “holler” at them. Well, that can happen in hollows too. That factor is more of a coincidence which just helped the term stick as a general title. True, in the average holler you can talk to a neighbor over hundred of yards away as if they were on your own porch, but this isn’t true for all hollers or hollows.

In a steep valley holler with a large waterway, like those in the southern part of the state near the New River Gorge, it doesn’t work as well. The white noise of the flowing river paired with the air currents of the valley can ‘take your words with the wind’. However, in small ‘backwoods’ hollers where the natural landscape mimics that of a Greek or Roman amphitheater, voices or other sounds can carry with such ease that hollerin’ is unnecessary overkill.

In the early years of my childhood, before the days of 24 hour news channels and shows like America’s Most Wanted and Unsolved Mysteries, being a kid meant being home by the time the streetlights came on and always staying within “hollerin’ distance”. The landscape of any area will determine what counts as “hollerin’ distance” – the distance a good hearty shout will travel across the landscape to the ears of another person. Basically, if the adults couldn’t hear you and you couldn’t hear them, then you were out of “hollerin’ distance” and you were in real trouble.

The Waterways

We have the same types of terms everyone else has for their natural water systems. But, naturally, we have a hierarchical system in place so we can get quite specific with them too as it is another special part of our navigation system.

Though West Virginia can boast many lakes, both natural and man-made, our most important water sources are our rivers.

The River

Rivers were the main navigation tool in the mountains from the earliest days. The Ohio River makes up our western most border, the Potomac defines our eastern panhandle, but it is the Monongahela River which is believed to have flowed the first of the indigenous groups (Native Americans) into the north central mountain area from the Delaware region centuries, possibly even thousands, of years ago.

Monongahela is a very specific and descriptive word on its own. Surprisingly, Wikipedia has the best and most concise description of this word:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monongahela_River

The Unami word Monongahela means “falling banks”, in reference to the geological instability of the river’s banks. Moravian missionary David Zeisberger (1721–1808) gave this account of the naming: “In the Indian tongue the name of this river was Mechmenawungihilla (alternatively spelled Menawngihella), which signifies a high bank, which is ever washed out and therefore collapses.”^[11]

The Lenape Language Project renders the word as Mënaonkihëla (pronounced [mənaoŋɡihəla]), translated “where banks cave in or erode”,^[12] from the verbs mënaonkihële “the dirt caves off” (such as the bank of a river or creek, or in a landslide)^[13] and mënaonke (pronounced [mənaoŋɡe]), “it has a loose bank” (where one might fall in).^[14]

Monongalia County and the town of Monongah, both in West Virginia, are named for the river, as is the city of Monongahela in Pennsylvania. (The name “Monongalia” is either a Latinized adaptation of “Monongahela” or simply a variant spelling.)

Oddly, Monongah does not sit along the Monongahela River. She is tucked away in a little and hard to access valley along the West Fork River which was only passable by anything more than a small boat during flood seasons until the railroad came along. However, her luck of having such abundant coal reserves and being so close to the Monongahela River, yet still so very isolated from ‘society’ in Fairmont, made her the “gem” of the Fairmont coal field.

The Stream

Streams are just smaller and more narrow rivers. In the mountains, a stream could be a few different things. It could be the classification given to a section of a major river which is just so low at a certain point that the river bed can be seen and the water literally streams at a slower rate, causing the river rocks to create tiny rapids, like in the photo of a section of the Potomac River above. This could be the norm for certain parts of rivers due to their natural elevation or it could just be as a result of drought and, therefore, only temporarily low.

The photos above are an example of a stream being a small runoff branch of a larger and more powerful river nearby. In areas around the Valley Falls portion of the Tygart Valley River, these little streams can be found cutting into the landscape here and there along the banks. They often have a steady supply of water but some will travel up the landscape and then they could turn out to be something else…

The Run

A run is a just a small stream which holds a very special quality: its path stretches up from the main river into the higher landscape surrounding the main valley. A run is sort of half stream-half brook; it has a ‘mouth’ in the valley fed by the flow of the river like a stream but, it’s areas of higher elevation are natural rainwater runoff paths which act more like brooks carrying rain water down to the ‘mouth’ to be dumped back into the river. As a result of this natural drainage system, runs can be notorious for flash floods.

A run can take you deeper into the landscape or lead you out which explains why many hollows follow along runs- it runs water in a more direct path from higher elevations to the valley below. That is also why the word “run” is typically included in the names of places like this but, at one point, runs in these mountains took on a very special alternative meaning to certain people.

Due to their nature, runs were very significant in the times of the Underground Railroad when survival or freedom meant knowing that you need to follow the brook to the run through the hollow then wait at the ‘mouth’ to the river in the valley. Follow the creek or crick by mistake and you could end up going deeper into the landscape and fall into the hands of the wrong neighbor who will have no qualms about letting bounty hunters know about this secret little ‘through-way’ for escaped slaves.

The Brook/Creek

Brook is often interchangeable with creek but, again, in the mountains we have to be a little more specific sometimes. Brooks and creeks are just small streams. They can be their own entity and carry water from a highland directly down to the valley below or they can feed into a run or stream. There is no exact science in determining the difference between a brook and a creek other than observing elevation and even that is hit-or-miss depending on the landscape.

However, if you had to try and take a guess and determine if you are beside a creek or a brook the first thing to do is look and listen to the water. Does it look like it is flowing with gravity? Does it sound like a cup that’s slightly overflowing in your sink, the little trickle of water falling down sort of ‘babbles’ as it runs down and hits the bottom? Then it’s a probably a brook.

Or, is the waterway rather level for the most part? Does it serpentine through the landscape, occasionally rising and falling while it twists and turns? Does it sound a little more like water pouring out of a hose than a container overflowing? Then it’s probably a creek which is typically found on slightly lower elevations and it’s flow has less to do with gravity and more to do with water pressure.

The Crick

Last but not least we have the crick. Now, cricks aren’t always there in the form of water but their path is still a permanent gouge in the landscape. More often than not, cricks only really flow after heavy rains.