Running on Red Dog Road

Every now and again, a person needs to read a good memoir--one with humor, innocence, and just a bit of pathos. Drema Hall Berkheimer has written such a memoir, delineating her growing up in Appalachia with her widowed mother, her sister, her deaf brother, and her grandparents.

Running on Red Dog Road begins this way

“Mining companies piled trash coal in a slag heap and set it ablaze. The coal burned up, but the slate didn’t. The heat turned it rose and orange and lavender. The dirt road I lived on was paved with that sharp-edged rock. We called it red dog. Grandma told me, Don’t you go running on that red dog road. But I do.”

and from there, the reader is drawn in to Drema's world--a world of a child during World War II whose mother was a Rosie the Riveter, a world of a child growing up in coal country. and a world of a child growing up in the loving care of her grandparents. Drema had one great uncle who would drink rubbing alcohol in the absence of any other kind, and one with an account with a moon-shiner. Her world included neighbors who went to churches that handled snakes, victory gardens, squabbles with her sister, and a rural lifestyle.

This is a five star book, with two thumbs up, a fossil found in the red dog road.

MY thanks to Zondervan for allowing me to read and review this book.