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Old 03-30-2017, 09:59 PM
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thomasr thomasr is offline
Join Date: Jan 2005
Location: Warner Robins GA.
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Default I got one.

I have a story, one my dad would tell every time the subject of the great depression came up. Not sure of his actual age at the time, but he was the fifth son among twelve kids…ten of which still lived at home. Of course granddaddy had a farm but most of the folding money was made cutting and hauling logs.
Being the depression, not a lot of folks were building anything, so nobody much needed lumber, so again nobody much was buying logs. Granddaddy’s logging income soon dried up. They turned their attentions to farming so they were still getting by. Then came a long dry spell at about the worst time. What table fare they were able to harvest went almost exclusively to day to day living with very little left for putting up and canning. They thinned the hogs and chickens as much as they dared. Things were not looking good for the coming winter.
Despite the lack of rain seems they had a bumper crop of sorghum. Dad said he had never put up so much sorghum syrup in his young life. So much they were having to get creative for suitable containers to put it in. What seemed like a huge bother at the time was actually a saving grace.
They were able to make it fairly well through Christmas that year. Of course Christmas morning was pretty much just a special service at church. Soon after that feeding ten kids took its toll on the pantry and meat house. They were down to pretty much just all that sorghum syrup and some flour, so that became the staple of the day. Pretty much breakfast, lunch, and diner became biscuits and sorghum syrup. Occasionally they were able to trade off some syrup for some put up garden stuff or some streak-a-lean, and they kept in flour by trading off some eggs when they had to.
Dad said spring seemed to be forever away as they subsisted on mostly sorghum and biscuits but subsist they did. Spring finally came and granddaddy got a couple of big jobs hauling railroad ties. Spring was kind to them and they put in a good productive garden and the money granddaddy made helped them recover. By the time things started looking up for them they only had few jars of syrup left.
Now you might think that my dad would have been slightly sick of sorghum syrup by then. Not the case at all. Right up until his last days my dad loved him some catheads with butter and sorghum syrup.
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