Buttermilk Biscuits

Ron's Buttermilk Biscuits

My Mother married a hillbilly.  Yep, dad was a hillbilly.  Straight from the mountains or western North Carolina.  His parents moved him and his eight brothers to Pennsylvania when Pop (that's we always called him) was ten years old.  That was in 1930.  Two more brothers were born in Pennsylvania bringing the total Tipton Boys to eleven.  

My Mom (pregnant with me), my grandmother Mrs. Tipton (sitting) and my Uncle Dude at the family mansion (not the washing machine on the porch - a hillbilly home decorating requirement) - 1941

My father met my Mother in 1940 on a double date (he was the other date, not hers) when she was 16 years old.  Several months later they eloped to Elkton Maryland on a Saturday, November 2nd.  That Monday my Mom went back to school. It didn't take too long before my granddad found out my Mom got married over the weekend.  He beat her and threw her out of the house.  Mom was the "Cinderella" of her home.  Her mother had died from complications of childbirth before my Mom was two years old.  Mom was the youngest of her two brothers and sisters. They had all left home and only Mom was left with her (wicked) step-mother and her two children.  Mom did all the cooking, cleaning and what not.  Pop told her "I'm going to get you out of this mess."  And he did.  

My grandfather with his third wife Margaret (oh, I remember her well, Gravel Gertie, she always scared me to death) and his stepson Bobby - 1934

My Mom with her two older brothers - she told me they tore the head off of her doll - an appropriate metaphor for her childhood -1928

So what does all this have to do with biscuits you ask?  Well, when Mom and Pop rented a house in a small house out in the country without running water or indoor plumbing, one of the first things her widowed mother-in-law told her was she was going to have to learn how to make biscuits.  My grandmother said all "her boys need their biscuits" and if she wanted to have a successful marriage she would have to learn how to make authentic southern biscuits.  

Mrs. Tipton with ten of her eleven boys after the burial of Mr. Tipton, my grandfather - 1939

My Mom would watch Mrs. Tipton (my grandmother) make biscuits and wonder "How would I ever make those crusty and cloud filled biscuits as effortlessly as Mrs. Tipton?"  My Mom said Mrs. Tipton would fill a bowl with self rising flour, make a well in the center or the flour, then cup her hand and get a scoop of shortening (lard is the best) and drop it in that well.  Then she would pour some buttermilk in the well and start to swirl the mixture around all the while squeezing the flour and shortening (lard) until a ball formed, all the while being careful to maintain a flour well.  

My grandmother - Hester Lewis Tipton - 1943 - she died in 1944 - I don't remember her

My Mother told me it wasn't easy to "get the feel" of the flour and shortening mixture at first.  There were many times when the dough mixture was too sticky or too dry.  And when she baked the biscuits they came out as hardtacks.  Good perhaps for a trans-Atlantic voyage on the Mayflower but not for Pop.  

Finally, after months of trying my Mother "got it."  She made perfect biscuits with effortlessly ease.  For the next sixty years of her marriage, almost every day she made biscuits for Pop (and her boys) for breakfast and dinner.  

Of course, being the proper Mama's Boy

Me, "Mama's Boy" - gay from birth - 1942

that I was, I wanted to learn how to make biscuits too!  Well folks, let me tell you it wasn't easy.  I have to be truthful and tell you I've never quite made them exactly the same quality as Mom's but I've come pretty close.  

Here's my recipe for buttermilk biscuits:

2 cups sifted enriched self-rising flour
4 tablespoons shortening (lard the best but use Crisco - don't go there)
1/2 to 2/3 cup sweet milk or buttermilk

Unbaked buttermilk biscuits

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F (very hot)
Cut shortening into flour until consistency of coarse meal.  Add milk to make a soft dough, stirring with a fork until dough draws away from the sides of the bowl. Turn dough onto a lightly floured board or on wax paper and knead gently 8 to 10 strokes (don't go there). Flatten until desired thickness.  Pull off dough into size of biscuits you desire and shape by hand into a ball.  Place on non-stick cookie baking sheet.  Bake 10 to 12 minutes at 450 degrees F until brown.  Serve hot with butter.  Enjoy!

Why I Have a Yankee Accent

My grandmother, father and nine of my 10 Tipton uncles at my grandfather's funeral 1939

I first began researching my Tipton family roots in 1994.  I was born in West Chester, Pennsylvania in 1941 to Isaac Walter Tipton and Betty Louise Hadfield.  My Mother’s family history was from Pennsylvania Quakers.  All I knew about my father’s history was that he came up to Pennsylvania when he was ten years old, with eight of his brothers (no sisters) and without shoes to work on his Uncle Don Byrd’s farm near Unionville, Pennsylvania, country about 45 miles west of Philadelphia.  I did know that my father was a ‘hillbilly’ and that fact distressed me greatly when I was growing.  Little did I know that my father and his brothers came from those hearty, brave and hardworking families of Appalachia that made up the backbone of America. 

My Uncle John Henry Tipton and his team of mules used to haul lumber
for his father's (my grandfather) saw mill in the western mountains of
North Carolina about 1924

Back in 1994 was when I first began researching my family history.  I made my first trip to the mountains of western North Carolina where my father grew up as a small boy and visited one of my father’s distant Tipton cousins.  His name was Horace Tipton and he was about the same age as my father.  During my visit ‘Uncle Horace’ stopped me and said:

“Ye a damn Yankee ain’t ye?  Ye talk funny!” 

'Uncle Horace's home in Micaville, North Carolina 1994

At first I was stunned because he thought I talked funny?  I could hardly understand him, his Appalachian accent was that thick.  Then I saw the humor in the situation and continued my visit with ‘Uncle Horace.’  However during our visit (I was there with my brother John and his wife Barbara Tipton), ‘Uncle Horace’ did maintain a 'safe' distance.  Don’t want to get TOO friendly with a (damn) Yankee you know. 

My brother John and I at his home in Greenville, South Carolina
discussion our recent trip to the hills of North Carolina where
our father was born and left at ten years old for Pennsylvania

Below is the reason I have a ‘Yankee’ accent.

This is a history of how my branch of the Tipton family came to be in Pennsylvania. This information is an oral history from my late Aunt Peg Tipton, wife of my Uncle Henry Tipton.

In the 1920’s, life was rough for the folks who lived in the hollers of the Pisgah Mountains in western North Carolina, near the border of Johnson City, Tennessee.  One of those families who were near starvation was my paternal grandparents, Fieldon and Hester Lewis Tipton and their nine sons. 

Me during a visit to the mountains where my father was born - 1994

From 1909 to 1926 Fieldon and Hester had nine children, all boys. Fieldon was in the lumber business with other relatives in the close-knit mountain community. Leading up to the Great Depression, the sawmill business wasn’t producing enough food on the table to feed nine growing Tipton boys. Fieldon’s brother-in-law, Don Byrd (married to Hester Lewis’s sister, Essie Lewis) had a fruit and vegetable farm in southern Chester County, Pennsylvania. He needed cheap farm labor. Fieldon and Hester and their nine growing boys needed food, a roof over their heads to protect them from the elements and heat to give them comfort during the cold winters.

My grandmother Hester Tipton with her two sons born in Pennsylvania, Bruce and Sam Tipton 1936

Sometime in 1929 or 1930 (the exact date is uncertain) the Fieldon Tipton family made a life course change and decided to relocate to Pennsylvania and work on Don Byrd’s farm. The whole family moved into one of the tenant cabins called “The Baker Place” near present day Unionville, Pennsylvania. “Field” and his boys began the back-breaking work of picking fruits and vegetables in their Uncle Don’s farm. Two more sons were born to Fieldon and Hester Tipton in Pennsylvania. More farm labor.

My Uncle Sam, Bruce and Fieldon Tipton at the old 'Baker Place' where they
were farm laborers for their Uncle Don Byrd on his farm in exchange for free housing

The names of the Tipton boys were:

Raymond Luther Tipton  (1909-1988)                         

John Henry Tipton  (1911-1993)                                          

Edward Walter Tipton (1914-1998)                                   

Erby Erwin Tipton (1917-1990)                                            

Isaac Walter Tipton Sr. (my father)  (1920-2000)       

John Hannum Tipton (twin)   (1922-1961)                       

Richard Berry Tipton (twin)  (1922-1989)                

Luther Raymond Tipton    (1925-1979)                      

Fieldon Jacob Tipton, Jr.  (1926-2006)                       

Bruce Tipton  (1931-1995)                                                                  

Samuel Park Tipton (1934-2001)                                  

Baby Tipton (twin of Samuel, died at birth)  

As the Tipton boys grew into adult most of them met and married the local women of southeastern Pennsylvania, their new home.  Out of those unions thirty-six legitimate children and four illegitimate children were born. I am one of those thirty-six legitimate children over a hundred children were born. 

My Mom (pregnant with me), my Uncle Dude and my grandmother Hester Tipton 1941

With the exception of Fieldon ‘s cousin Adgie Tipton, who also moved to southeastern Pennsylvania at the same time, all of the Tiptons who now live in an around the southeastern portion of Pennsylvania are descendents of my grandparents, Fieldon and Hester Tipton.  And this is the reason I am a Tipton with a Yankee accent.

Me ( tall, skinny  kid on the right) with my brothers and cousins showing our hillbilly roots 1955

March 26, 2011

Ronald Walter Tipton

What Would Our Ancestors Have Done?

Lately, I’ve been having my share of technical problems with my computer and peripherals. I now have two computers in my home office, along with three printers. One would think that I have all the bases covered. One would be wrong.

I won’t bore you with the details of my problems but basically it is that I now cannot scan photos in my HP Photosmart All-in-One Printer. I suspect it has something to do with the printer drivers changing when I tried to print a photo. Hewlett-Packard is so hot to get their users plugged into their continual stream of updates and ads; it is now almost impossible just to use the printer.

So now my problems are:

1) My new computer doesn’t have AOL software on it
2) My wireless printer is hooked up TWICE on my new computer
3) Multiple screen repeats on some Google searches
4) I need to disable the wireless keyboard and mouse on the new computer
5) Where is the refresh key?
6) How do I change icons on the new computer? Ain’t Vista great?
7) How do I use the flash drive on both computers?


A few nights ago I was reading about my ancestors in the book “History of the Toe River Valley.” My paternal ancestors lived in the hills of western North Carolina from the early 1700’s to the 1920’s (when my father’s family moved out to Pennsylvania.) Some might call them hillbillies but the correct term is “Appalachian pioneers.” Their occupation was farming. They grew and raised their own food. The woman, who I believed worked much harder than the men, “kept house.” This involved washing the clothes at the nearest stream, using a stick to beat the dirt out of the clothes. A chicken dinner meant going out in the back yard to grab the unfortunate chicken and chop its head off, dip the chicken in boiling water to pluck the feathers (I’ve done this), and gut it. Vegetables came from the garden, or in the winter time, from the vegetables that were canned from the summer’s produce.

Somehow they managed without to live a full life without electricity, indoor plumbing, and PC’s! Yes, they managed without PC’s. This knowledge has put my technical problems in perspective, to say the least. I sit in a warm and comfortable house, my refrigerator is stocked full, and I wash and dry my clothes (as I did this morning) while I’m on my computer updating my genealogy files. What I really appreciate is when I have to use the bathroom, it is warm and comfortable. I’ve used an outhouse. Not a pleasant experience, especially for someone as fussy as I am.

Now I wonder a hundred years from now will one of my ancestors wonder about me and my generation? Will they marvel at the hardships we have had to endure? No doubt they will. Our ancestors probably didn’t realize that they were enduring hardships. Oh, maybe the washing the clothes down at the stream. What we take for granted now will probably amaze our descendents that we even endured such “hardships.” I predict one “hardship” that will never disappear, PC problems. As Benjamin Franklin said: “Certainty? In this world nothing is certain but death and taxes. “Add to his quotation “PC glitches.” I wonder what my ancestors would have thought of my “problem.” Even more interesting, I wonder what my descendents will think.