The Severed Finger

It was in the 1920’s at a rural farm house tucked away in the Hills of Yancey County, N.C. where a young boy ran screaming into the house “Mama, Bill cut my finger off!” Grandma Fox, who was not too excitable asked “What did he do that for?” The reply was “I dared him to”. “You fool, you deserved it” was his mama’s reply.

She went to the ash heap where the remains of the cook-stove wood fires were dumped and with a piece of flower sack material, she bound the ashes onto the stub that moments earlier was a finger and sent him on his way.

My uncle Fred Wheeler told me this account of childhood misfortune when he was in his 80’s and this is how it happened. Uncle Fred and his brother Bill were splitting wood for the stove. Fred, ever the mischievous one, placed the index finger of his left hand on the chop block and said to Bill “You’re a chicken if you don’t cut it off”. Calmly Bill said “Hold it right still” and whack! went the double bit axe and the finger was cleanly severed.

Despite a missing index finger on his left hand Fred would become a pretty good banjo and guitar player. He like two of his brothers became a preacher and was a carpenter for all of his adult life until he got too old.

This is the first of many tales I can tell about my Uncle Fred Wheeler. He passed away at about 93 still as full of life and laughter as when he dared the wrong boy to do something foolish.

Royce