I love to talk! I try hard not to crowd my guests. My favorites are the guests who also like to talk.
We hosted a young man in November 2017 who was traveling West Virginia's back roads learning about the rural history, and about the early coal mining industry in the state. As with most of our guests, he dropped off his things first and hurried out to get dinner.
When he returned Wayne and I were in the living room watching the television game show "Jeopardy." The young man joined us, chiming in his thoughts on categories and questions. After the episode concluded he asked about the house.
Holstein House, the name I gave my little B&B, was built in the 1920's. I walked him through the house when he arrived. Now I was sharing the history from the comfort of my favorite chair. "Look at that door frame. The finish carpentry is just amazing. You don't see much of that craftsmanship in homes today."
"That is not paneling, it is Masonite. The exposed wall in the dining room is the original ship-lap. That ghastly silver funnel is part of the air conditioning system. It will take us time and money to fix that. The breakfast room gets the most wonderful sunlight around 9 o'clock. Of course there was no electricity or indoor plumbing when the home was built. The kitchen and bathroom were once the back porch."
He shared with us he excitement at seeing the small communities as he traveled. "You drive these twisting roads for miles with nothing but rolling mountainside and then BAM! there is a small community."
"You said you are a student. Why on earth are you traveling the back roads and driving up the hollows?"
"One of my professors worked on the movie Matewan. I am a film student and researching the history of the coal industry."
"Have you read much about the Coal Mine War?"
"The --- war?"
That was all it took. We shared with the young man as much history as he could handle. From the debate regarding how good or evil the mining companies were perceived to Mother Jones, Baldwin-Felts, Sid Hatfield, the miner's march on Blair Mountain, and the call for federal troops. Just a few miles from my home is Paint Creek, where mine company thugs slaughtered dozens of miners, their wives and children, with machine guns.
It was nearly one o'clock in the morning when we all decided we had to end the gab-fest. Wayne and I had to be up by five and our guest was past exhausted. He borrowed a book on the subject and read another hour or so in the guest room.
He came down for breakfast groggy, but excited to ask more questions. I happily provided what information I could. I gave him the title of some other books he may want to read.
"What route back to Morgantown would you suggest? I don't want to take the interstate."
I grabbed a map of the state and placed it on the table. I showed him some routes that would keep him near civilization but still be a beautiful drive. He gathered his things and headed out around nine.
---> That's how I look at most guests, like cousins. And you know, some of those cousins are kooks.