SON OF THE DARK CORNER

Churches

The nearest approach to any kind of social activity was connected with the churches. There were two, the Methodist, known as Sardis, and the Baptist, as Concord. Within the two congregations, there was deep-rooted intolerance of the other. Some were fanatical in adherence to their particular belief. Some of the most devout considered members of the other group to be little more than accredited representatives of the lower world, and were certain that none of them would be accorded even a glimpse of the promised land. One Sunday morning a young believer from one congregation staged a wild west bucking horse episode in the churchyard while the benighted rival group was conducting services. Sanitary facilities for these churches as well as the school were nonexistent. Those responding to the command of nature's law were compelled to withdraw to the semi-privacy of a neighboring thicket. For this purpose it was required that the male section of the assemblages should seek seclusion on the east side of the building and the female contingent, the glen on the west. The depth of the penetration into the bush was to some extent determined by the urgency of the moment.

The use of tobacco and snuff was almost universal. The church services were loud and long. Many would use the weed throughout the service, and finding it necessary to reduce the aquatic content of the oral cavity would proceed to find relief at the only place available. A somewhat queasy stomach slows the pen and dictates that the result be left to the imagination of the reader. None will ever paint the picture.

Pass the Hat

Collection plates had not penetrated to the depths of the Dark Corner. However, the principle was fully at home. Rather than the citified version, the collection medium was always the hat. Some of the brothers thought to pass hats in the conventional manner, making double sure that no one was overlooked and that all had full and equal opportunity to advance the cause. One member, well remembered, was the widow of a Yankee Civil War soldier. Widows of U.S. soldiers received a pension several times greater than those of the Confederate soldiers. Thus, this widow's extra cash income set her apart as something special, a few cuts above the rank and file of the lost cause. One method of calling this preferred position to the attention of the Lord, and likewise to those less fortunate in the assembly, invariably occurred after the passers of the hats completed their work by placing the take on the alter. This proud and devout little lady would arise from her seat in the "amen" corner and stiffly march to the alter with its resting hats, and looking over the gold rims of her specs into the depths of her satchel, would remove a coin. Holding it high so as to make a sound that all could hear, she would let it fall deep into the hat. All due solemnity was observed throughout the ritual, and the rites were completed by her proud return to the seat from which she had gone forth to give evidence of her piety and generosity.

Protracted Meetings and Camps

After crops were laid by in early July, there was little to be done on the farms until cotton picking time in early September. To help pass the time, there were two major diversions -- fishing, and revival meetings. Frequently two or three families would hitch up their wagons, load the women, kids, and camping equipment, and go down into the overflow country for a few days of hunting, fishing, and fighting mosquitoes. Fish were usually plentiful, and the various methods of catching them formed a fascinating sport. The exercise, the outdoor atmosphere, and the smell of the campfire combined to build up prodigious appetites. Big pans were piled high with golden-brown perch and catfish, kept near the campfire and always ready, with an open invitation to have another. There were lots of squirrels, both gray and red -- and no closed season. Turkey and deer, while no longer abundant, were still to be had and the law was not overly observant of the activities of those living in the Dark Corner.

For the big summer religious program, it was customary to build a brush arbor on the church grounds. A supporting frame-work of logs and poles was set up and on top was piled limbs and leafy branches sufficient to shield the congregation from the hot sun. Seats were made of new lumber, their 1x12 planks coming directly from the saw mill. This lumber could be had at $10 per thousand feet. There was no sliding on these seats, or changing position, as their finish was rough and summer clothing was thin. Services were conducted at eleven in the morning, with a second near dusk. The preacher's remarks were the principal theme for community discussion. Acceptance varied from that of an inspired pronouncement from above to cold disdain. Frequently, the activities were for two or more weeks and at the finale there was the great intaking of the new believers, this to be followed by the ritual of baptism. The Methodist observance of baptism was not spectacular, but the Baptists made an impressive ceremony of the occasion. Immersion was required, and the favorite spot was the spring branch near Grandpa Hickman's farm. On a certain occasion the candidate was an overgrown farm girl. As she waded into the waters her light dress floated on the clear waters and the deeper she descended into the pool, the more apparent her underpinning became. As the waters embraced her waist, she noticed the dress spread wide like an umbrella, and gave forth a scream of horror. The devout father observing from the bank called out, "Be calm, Maudie!" and the pastor grabbed the folds of the high-riding calico and submerged them into the crystal waters. For many years at our house the customary response to anyone frustrated or unduly upset was for someone to call out, "Be calm, Maudie!"

Out of the Good Earth

The wild, virgin woodlands not only provided a home for the wide range of game life and birds, but it was likewise productive of fruits edible by the settlers. In this group were the blackberries, huckleberries, grapes, muscadines, persimmons, chinquapins, pecans, hickory nuts, and walnuts. Blackberries grew best along old fence rows and along roads and edges of old, abandoned farms. Picking them was another chore for mother and the girls. Huckleberries liked the little knolls and ridges best. A variant from the ridge-loving type clung close to the banks of the little branches. These were deeper in color, larger, and sweeter than the ridge variety; however, they were less plentiful. A steaming hot berry pie or cobbler represented just about the top of good eating. Of course there was no refrigeration of any kind --- no ice --- and the only thing approaching fresh fruit out of season was that canned in Mason jars. This process required that all fruits so processed had to be precooked and packed in hot syrup and sealed airtight. But the berry pies were delicious, and if available today would hold their own with best that Mr. Heinz can provide.

Nuts

In the late fall, after frost had opened up their porous outer shells, it was fun to pack a lunch and go down into the lowlands in the creek bottoms where the soft-shelled, scaly-bark hickory nuts grew. Wild hogs lived in these lowlands and they were very fond of the soft-shell nuts. They made a welcomed change from the acorns, which were the basic food for the wild hog. Cracking nuts and picking the meat provided busy work for many rainy days or long, winter evenings.

The chinquapin nut is housed in a shell similar to a walnut, but is much smaller, being in size more like an acorn. The outer shells of the chinquapin are completely covered with long, sharp spikes that completely ward off the most ravenous animals until the nut is ripe and the spiked pod opens, making it possible for the nuts to fall free.

Vegetable Garden

No family in the Dark Corner could have survived without the benefits of a vegetable garden. In terms of both quality and variety, gardens ranged from poor on up to the best. Where the layout would permit it, the garden opened just outside the kitchen door. The size of the plot varied, but a parcel 200x200 would produce all a family's needs when tended by a proper green thumb. It was enclosed by pine palings three or four inches wide, six feet high, and spaced close enough to bar chickens and rabbits. Highly fertilized with compost or barnyard manure, all worked into the ground until it was mellow and spongy, the garden soil was much richer than that of adjoining fields. When the ground was in shape, rows were aligned side by side. A staked-down cord was used to ensure their arrow-like straightness.

Seeds, where store-bought, came in small, highly colored paper envelopes. Many times, a single envelope would furnish enough seed to plant an entire row. When emptied, these paper packets were capped on sticks at the beginning of the row to show what had been planted there. The different types that filled the average garden were surprisingly numerous. As memory recalls, we see them parading in perfect order down the straight lines. Included are cucumbers, squash, peppers, lettuce, carrots, turnips, mustard, onions, shallots, collards, cabbage, beets, peas, tomatoes, beans, and okra.

Some of the plants don't have the stamina to stand up under the lightest frost. Beans are foremost among these cold-haters, so their planting was always delayed until Good Friday, frost danger after that being almost unheard of. The vine variety of bean requires some support to climb. Bushes with spangly branches were good hosts, but if they were not at hand, palings could be driven into the ground and maybe connected with cord or wire. Butterbeans solved this problem of support by being planted alongside the fence and then crawling up the palings when the long, hot summer days brought fat pods to the vines.

After the garden soil was first fertilized in the spring, and before any planting was done, it was plowed. But after the plants began to grow, it was difficult to use a horse or mule on the job without causing too much damage to the plants. So it was here that the man or woman with the hoe really came into his or her own. Any humid climate, combined with high fertility and hot weather, spurs rapid growth -- not to the vegetable alone, but also to grass and weeds. It was a never-ending battle to keep them under control. Left alone, a few days would be enough to choke off the plantings --- crab grass, briers, nettles, and unnamed weeds never quit the battle until Jack Frost hit in the late fall.

Sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes, sweet corn, popcorn, watermelons, cantaloupes, and pumpkins did not need the sheltering protection of the enclosed garden, and were grown on selected spots in the fields where it was convenient to use plows and farm tools in the cultivation.

Garden Truck

Grandpa Merritt and family continued to operate their truck-growing business near Pine Bluff. He had five children, my mother Alice; Neppie, who had married P.O. Hipp; Millie, who later married "Coon" King; Ben, who lived to be 80 but died childless; and Cora, the youngest. We made two visits to the grandparents. We went in a two-horse wagon, and it took three days for the trip. The first night we would stay in Warren. The second night, we would camp out or arrange to stay in a farm house in Cleveland County. Then, on the afternoon of the third day we would arrive. From Warren, we took the Pine Bluff road until a short distance north of the bridge across Bayou Bartholomew. Grandpa Merritt's place was a few miles up this stream. After leaving the Pine Bluff road, the rest of the journey was by a little-used local road that found its way among the timbers.

On our last visit, I was about twelve years old. Being very fond of grapes, it was easy for me to be tremendously interested in the vineyard. The grapes were ripe and hung in thick, heavy clusters from their well-supported vines. And I could have all I wanted. Afternoons, the family would go to the vegetable plots that were ready for market. They would pull, wash, and pack as many crates of the different vegetables as it was thought could be sold the next day. It was Ben's job to load everything on a one-horse light delivery truck and get to Pine Bluff for the early market. I went with him two or three times. He had a regular route and as he drove up and down the streets, he would ring a little bell continuously. He seemed to have pretty much regular customers along the route. The housewives would recognize the tinkle of the bell and come running to make their selections of the garden-fresh vegetables.

The day's supplies were generally sold by mid-morning, or the customers had done their buying for the day, so there were no further responses to the bell. On the way home, Ben made a regular stop at a little grocery out on the edge of town -- Silbernagle was the name. There was a telephone on the wall at the store. It rang and I took the receiver off the hook and heard a voice -- my first encounter with that instrument of progress. Bread was a daily product to be bought here. We called it light bread and I thought nothing could quite equal the aroma from the warm, fresh baked, brown-topped loaves. Grandfather died a short time later and was buried on the sunny slopes of the vineyard, close by the house. I am told the site was not permanently marked, and that it has healed its wounds by yielding to the ministrations of Father Time.

School Days

I have already said something of the primitive nature of that first one-room school house. About the year 1900, a new building was erected. While it continued as a one-room structure, the room was considerably larger than the old one, and was of drop-siding construction. It was painted white, with green trim.

The school year was broken into two terms so that the kids would be able to help out in cultivation and harvest times. The summer session was conducted during July and August, and school was in session when the new school house was painted. It was the only building in the community that was painted, and it was quite a thrill to wrestle the three r's and smell the clean fresh paint. To smell the paint was just something wonderful. It signified progress, and besides, few, if any of us, had ever smelled fresh paint before. To have all the windows wide and the big room filled with the fragrance was a great treat. The smell of paint could and did even rout the accustomed odor of the sweaty, barefoot youngsters. It must be remembered that there was not a bath tub in the whole of the Dark Corner. Occasional use of a limited nature was made of zinc wash tubs normally used for laundry, or so it was rumored. But we did have a painted school house with blueback spellers and McGuffey readers. Grading was flexible, but was said to embrace one through eight. All the seats and desks were made by a local carpenter and were intended for two or more students. The idea of comfort in seating had not yet reached those parts, so there was a lot of twisting and squirming in search of a softer perch --- but without avail.

Edited by:  Gerald J. Hickman

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