SORGHUM MAKING EXPERIENCES 
Submitted by Kay Mason <KLMPIAMO@aol.com on Oct 26, 2000
  
              Pages 70 - 71: 
              
	"Every year we raised sorghum cane enough to make sorghum molasses for table use, but in 
1885 we raised more and I stayed home from school most all Fall - picking beans, pulling fodder 
and helping make molasses.  It was slow hard work.  I was what was called a 'gin hand' and at 
most everyone's beck and call.  I cut and topped cane - stripped it of leaves or blades, helped 
haul and carry to the mill; carried off the ground cane and helped keep wood in easy reach of 
the evaporator operator. 
     
	We worked from about seven of the morning till 9 or 10 at night.  I was always thin and 
scrawny those days and got worn down till I would go to sleep on my feet.  The operator of the 
evaporator always had a wide open hole in the ground just in easy reach to throw the thick green 
scum from the boiling juice with his long handled skimmer - this always made a dirty sticky mess 
and everyone watched and was careful not to step in it. 
              
	One night I went to sleep at my work and walked into that 'slop hole' bare footed.  The 
step down into the hole pitched me forward and I struck the ground with force and I was soon 
awake and shocked to find myself on the ground with my feet in the warm, sticky mess.  I kept 
awake after that. 
              
	The operator of the evaporator allowed visitors to gather around and sample the product 
of his skill and most every night there were some who came.  With small wood paddles they would 
dip into the boiling molasses or into the big kettle under the outlet, or the operator might dip 
out a lot of the foamy molasses into a shallow pan where everyone could dip until his sweet 
tooth was filled.  It was considered to be great sport even if not very sanitary - a word that 
had not come into use yet, among us. 
              
	The practical joker found ways to ply his trade and newcomers were often 'taken in.'   
One of his favorite tricks was to dig another 'slop hole' in a place most likely to catch the 
unwary and put a goodly quantity of green skimming in it and then cover it over with cane fodder 
very lightly and then by artifice get an unsuspecting victim to walk into it. 
        
	My brother-in-law, WILEY LYON, was a 'fall guy' on this old trick.  He had arrayed 
himself in his Sunday best and a new pair of fancy high top boots and set out to call on sister 
BETTY [BRICKEY] (this was before they were married) and on the way he stopped to watch a crew 
making molasses.  The prankster (or Gilroy) had been there ahead of him and when WILEY [LYON] 
walked up unsuspecting and as he saluted the crew, 'Good evening, gentlemen,' he stepped into 
the hole almost to his boot tops - giving emphasis to the lst syllable of 'gentlemen' as he went 
down, thus: gentleMEN.  It was long time before he heard the last of that.  Many times I saw 
men, and even women and children, caught on this.  Most of the victims accepted the situation 
with good grace.  It was a custom of the country. 
              
	Oft time neighbors would come at night and bring food, and sometimes drink and help us 
at our work and at quitting time we would eat and have a gab fest.  Potatoes and sweet potatoes 
could be roasted in the heat of the evaporator fire and corn pone baked on a flat stone set up 
near the fire. 
              
	Once the dogs treed a big fat o'possum in the woods near by and one of the crew shook it 
out of the sapling and dressed it and [RICHARD] MENIFEE SPARKS roasted it on a large flat rock 
in front of his evaporator fire.  This was about the only o'possum I ever enjoyed eating.  
Roasting in the open dispersed the animal odor I found objectionable in some.  We had sweet 
potatoes, corn bread and other things brought from the house and we made a feast out there under 
the stars." 

              
              Kay Mason 


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