Even I remember, although the water came from a tap, that in the early fifties, living in a comfortable home with central heating, the maid did the wash in a washtub, using washboard and hand wringer. As a small boy I protested to my parents that they could not let this happen. And soon a washing machine came in the house.

I was born in South Charleston three years after this picture was taken. It is hard to believe there was an actual hospital there.

Grandpa was a farmer, not a miner, but their backyard looked very much like this, including the "Witches Cauldron" where clothes were boiled on washday. Then the wringer washer showed up when i was maybe 8 or 10 and things changed...

They had a 1950 ickup truck in green, and a 1957 Chevy sedan in silver, no radio and without self-canceling turn signals. No frills neded for gramma and grampa!

A packing crate. Even today a cardboard refrigerator box will become a magic carpet for a kid.

"think it needs a pinch of Salt"

Imagine what life was like for an ordinary miner's wife.

She is described in the caption as old and sick. Having to do such a strenuous, miserable chore weekly would make anyone old and sick before their time. A coal miner's clothes and almost everything he touches, often including his hair and skin, become indelibly stained with coal residue, very difficult to clean. She probably also made her own lye soap in a similar cauldron over a fire. I almost missed seeing the two kids playing in a makeshift clubhouse under the tree in the background. At least that lends a small ray of cheerfulness into this family's difficult life of mostly drudgery.

Seems the foreman's son loved playing in boxes as much as I did as a child. This yard is a playground full of treasures for a boy and his imagination.

I sure would like to have that Ford door! Thats the reason we often find the cars and trucks with no doors. They took them off!