Sited behind an elementary school on the Old Franklin Turnpike, Glade Hill Cannery has endured for almost 80 years. The open workroom, with its pitted and cracked concrete floor, smelled of industrial-strength bleach and apple peels. Unsealed quart cans and Mason jars were piled on worktables next to stockpots and cutting boards. Three 50-gallon, steam-jacket kettles lined one wall. Above them were processing timetables for peaches, cherries, tomato juice, squash, Brunswick stew, and headcheese. A potbellied stove sat idle. (David warms up the cannery with coal during “airish” winter months.) Sandra Preston helped fellow parishioners load buckets of Golden Delicious and Stayman apples—popular Virginia Piedmont varieties—into a whirring, belt-driven extractor. She removed hot pink rubber gloves and wiped condensation from her glasses. “We do this when the spirit moves us,” she said. Or when David can squeeze them in. More than one church group in the region uses Glade Hill to produce homemade goods for fund-raising drives.