FARM LIFE

by

Billy Whitehead

As a kid in 1949-1950 there were many things of adventure around a small farm in Winston County Mississippi. There were the trips across the pasture with dad to check to see where the milk cow had dropped her calf. A walk through the corn field to see if roasting ears were ready or later to see when the corn would be ready to pull. Then there was the trip to see how many boll weevils were in the cotton.

When boll weevils were found the remedy was dusting. Dad hitched a mule to a machine with two iron wheels which had a chain running to a blower. The blower was connected to two large containers and some octopus like arms running behind a seat. Dad put cotton poison into the containers then headed down the row followed by a great cloud. He had a wet bandana over his nose. At the end he would turn around and head back through the cloud. At the end of that row he would wipe the mule’s nose. After several turnarounds the poor mule could hardly walk so he had to take him to the barn and get the other.

One evening dad told mom that the county engineer would be there tomorrow morning. The next morning two or three men came with a telescopelike rig on three legs and poles. They set up in the field and drove stakes. By the end of the day there were several crooked lines in the fields. The next day dad began disking and plowing along the lines. As it turned out, he had build terraces to stop erosion of his soil.

When spring came dad was ready to put his crops in. In a trade he had a two row cultivator. There were two iron wheels, and a long wood beam for hitching two mules with a set of plows behind it with two long handles. Only this was not dad’s plan. He borrowed a Ford 8N tractor from Carlos Miles as well as Carlos’ two row cultivator. Dad rigged a long beam between the two cultivators and hitched the rig to the tractor. After a couple rounds to adjust he was off, plowing four rows at the time. Carlos saw him and was standing at the end of one round. “When you get through I want that rig too.”

Killing Hogs

Then there was the cold evening that dad spent digging several holes near the pigpen. 55 gallon drums were fitted into the holes at a slope. He hauled firewood, setting up wash pots, building a large table of planks. Drawing water to fill the wash pots. What was happening? Later there was a gathering of local men who were planning to be here early in the morning.

Dad was up before daylight to light the fire around the wash pot. Soon there were trucks coming into the front yard. They gathered around the pigpen with Sport, dad’s German Sheppard. “Sick him Sport!” With a jump Sport had a hog by the ear. With a stick the hog was down and dragged out of the pen.

After some basic prep the pig was put into the drum and hot water pored over the hog. This softened the hair so that it could be scraped. Soon there were four or five hogs laid out on the table and the butchering began. Somewhere near or after noon a tenderloin was carried to the kitchen for Rose to cook. Dinner was biscuits with redeye gravy peas and tenderloin steaks and gallons of ice tea or buttermilk. By early evening there were hams here, ribs there, shoulders over there. AND; Ready to pull chitterlings in a washtub over there. The hams had to be made ready for the smokehouse as were other cuts of meats.

The smokehouse had been built earlier away from the corn crib. I thought it was my playhouse but now dad had other things in mind. By the next morning I found that it was a smokehouse with meat hanging from the ceiling.

Late in the evening the meat was put away in the freezer or in the smoke house or in a salt box. Every man who had helped got a pig that he had brought. For some reason I was sent to the house and the men gathered by one of the trucks to get a drink of “water.” Then the trucks left down the lane. Sometime after sundown dad came in for supper then he was off to bed having fed his livestock.

That smokehouse was later turned into a storage house with a metal lock on it. One day mom went to the house for sauerkraut. There was a five gallon churn that she opened. “Boy, that stuff is gone bad “ or so I thought. She took a pot full to the house and the next day we ate it with peas and mashed potato. Good eating but where did the bad stuff go?, I wondered.

The Two Walters

In the Claytown community there were two Walter Whiteheads. These two Walters were known as Good Walter and Mean Walter. Good Walter was the sixth son of Samuel Rip Whitehead who was the fifth child of Joshua and Sarah Whitehead. Walter Anderson Whitehead, born March, 1, 1885 lived on what is now Highway 397 and not very far from the Whitehead Cemetery. This Walter was a quite family man well liked over the community.

I never knew who the other Walter Whitehead was but I often heard of him. There was a field road running from Highway 490, through a field of Junior Robinson and finally running right by our house. However, as I said this was a field road but knowing folk would take a shortcut by using this road. Junior closed his end of the road so dad, needing a stock watering pen built a fence across the road. This fence allowed his stock to get to the pond, otherwise he had to lead them to water every day.

Early one morning before daylight there was a commotion around the barn. Dad got up, picked up his shotgun and headed out to see what was up. There tangled in the brand new fence was two mules, a wagon and Walter Whitehead, dead drunk, trying to make the mules take him home as it was a little late.

One thing I remember of this farm life is that it was a slower pace than it is today. If there was a chore needing more than one could do all he needed to do was call upon a neighbor. If a need was at hand they local people would come together to give a hand. Seems that this is not the case today. It seems that the answer today is to call the government to buy us out or maybe worse, borrow so we can buy a new fangled maching to do the work for us. Neighbors may not even know who their neighbor is today for several months.

Maybe we have lost more than the farm today.