Thursday, October 10, 2013

Roots

My mom and dad were born in Georgia. Dad lived in a small community called Red Hill. Mom was from Eastanollee. After many attempts to find work before, during and after the Depression of the 1930’s they ended up in the Art cloth Mill village in Lowell, NC.

Therefore they had family scattered from Mid Georgia to North Carolina.  That called for a couple trips a year to South Carolina and Georgia. In the 1940’s a 150-300 mile trip was a LONG trip. I enjoyed them all. Sometimes I think maybe that is where my traveling blood came from.

Basically I was a town/city boy. The only time we were actually in the country was the three years dad pastored in the country church of High Shoals. Even in the city, mom & dad still had a garden and dad always raised a hog. Most of the time he used someone else’s land and gave them some pork as payment. Dad always fed his own hog, he would never think of leaning on someone to cover his responsibility.

When I see the Girls from the North woods of Wisconsin and the Upper of Michigan, canning and putting up for the winter, I see my mama. Every year of my youth she canned.

Those farm roots ran deep. Dad was from a family of 12 kids, he was the eldest. Before the depression he became a Georgia peanut farmer. raising peanuts on a share basis. The farmer never left my dad. In his life and in his ministry the strength, honesty and integrity of the farmer came out.

Those trips back to the farm of Great Grandpa Hilly were always the highlight of my year. GGrandpa felt like kids should learn to handle a gun early so he trusted me at 6-7 yrs old with his rifle (after a stern-short lecture).

No coddling from Grandpa Hilly, he was a local judge. A little fellow he could lay the law down. But he could also tell a tale as we parched peanuts on the hearth.

I never tired of looking down in his well, yelling and making it echo. I thought it was a mile deep. It was a thrill when I was a allowed to drop the bucket and draw a cold bucket of well water.

Each trip we would drive by the area where he ‘raised a train car load of peanuts one year.’ and near the place where mama’s daddy’s store was. Mama was hi-faluting, her family had a country store, as well as a farm.

All we have is a scrap of an old calendar from Grandpa’s store.  Mama’s daddy was J.S. Lloyd.

scanoldpic1

(It says The friend making store, trade with me and you will save money)

I have tried to rebuild this calendar I didn’t do too good a job but now I cannot find the finished product. This is what I started with..  I have a better picture somewhere.

 

I cannot find the original picture. It was called ‘Master At Arms’, but I cannot find it.

Nite Shipslog

PS:

I actually know little about my roots. Mama  said we were Scot/Irish,

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

1927Isotta-FraschiniTipo8AFleetwood

I believe I lifted the 1927 from Sonya also. The Isotta Fraschini

12 comments:

Jackie said...

I've been gone...(did ya miss me?)
But...I'm baaaaaack!
You know that I have great affection for Jawja and NC....we have a home in both states.
Your family sounds like a hard-working and successful one. I know that they were successful in raising a fine son.
I'll be back to read posts I've missed and comment....(later).... Just unpacking from the trip to the mountains. I'm one tired Jawja gurl.
Hugs to you and Sherry.
J.

Chatty Crone said...

So your family was a lot like Darla and Mel. Gosh I love that kind of life - I think - I never had it. Born and raised in Chicago. I have never heard of those two cities in GA. Do you know my son went to medical school with some very very rich peanut farmers! You had such a wonderful childhood.

Paula said...

You never told me you had peanut farming people in your family. Used to be a large peanut area around here. Still some but not as many.

shirl72 said...

We were raised in the City. When I was in the second grade I
volunteered Dad to take us on a field trip to a farm and use the church bus. They let you join the group since Dad was driving the bus. You got to ride a pony. I got to jump out of a barn.

I did enjoy visiting Grandpa Hilly
the Judge and sit in front of the
fireplace and listen to him tell
about the cases that he judged it was so interesting. We had a good life,


Jean said...

I was raised on a farm and we knew how to work in the field by the time we were able to pull up weeds. Lol. Great post as always. Jean

Louis la Vache said...

hee hee...
«Louis'» mother was born in Red Hill - TEXAS, that is!

betty said...

What great memories, Jack. Interesting background of your parents and their grandparents. I bet that water was delicious tasting from that well!

betty

TARYTERRE said...

Interesting how your daddy always kept a hog. And fascinating you had peanut farmers in the family.

salemslot9 said...

I'm Irish, too
the newest member
of our family
was born yesterday
a boy named Caden :)

I'm mostly known as 'MA' said...

I think it's always good to remember your roots and where you came from. These are the people that helped to make us what we are. I've had some farmers in my family but have always been a city girl. I remember both sets of my grandparents having a farm, but my dad always said it was his mother that was the farmer, his dad worked in the steel mill. Up north our mills made steel.

Helen said...

That is where I learned to love that salty ham in a cat eye biscuit, being raised on a farm.

Helen said...

Sorry, that should read cat head instead of cat eye.