Good morning, this week’s article for Tidbits will be taken from a book titled “Blow Your Smoke Toward the Sky” written by Ashley N. Beasley. An exact date of when the books is unknown. The book is a series of short stories about Ms. Beasley family and surrounding communities as she was growing up. 

The World’s Cheapest Refrigerator

Let’s walk backward about 75 years and look at the refrigerators in use at that time. They had no doors, shelves, compartments or thermostats. They could not make ice. They were never defrosted, scrubbed or cleaned. The word refrigerator was new to us.

Our refrigerator was a good cool, clear well of water used for drinking, bathing, livestock, chickens and pets. We irrigated gardens, potato patches, lawns and flowers. The well also served as our refrigerator. We kept our sweet milk, butter and buttermilk plenty cold and it worked like this.

Simply put the milk and the butter in containers, lower these containers into the water on the north side of the side. Come noon time or supper time, you have good cold milk and butter at no cost from the world’s cheapest refrigerator.

A well was a must at each home. How did we get these wells? How was the spot selected and who did the digging? In each community or near by there was a man who knew all about the ancient and honorable art of withing for water. He believed in his art. I never knew of one to fail, he was always successful. Likewise, I never knew of one who made a charge for his services. He would go into the bush to find the right kind of limb with the right kind of fork. From this he would make his witching stick or witching rod.

It was usually V shaped and looked somewhat like the pulley bone from a Rode Island Red Rooster, only much larger. You would show him the area where you wanted the well. He would grasp his witching rod securely and start walking over the area. After a while he would select the spot for the well and there you would prepare to dig for water. And you felt alright about it too. It was serious business with him, and he did a lot of good for those in the community.

There was usually someone in the community whose businessitwas to clean out and repair wells, theyhas special pulleys, ropes, buckets and special tools for digging. They had a windlass, a contraption used to pull the dirt, water and mud to the top. It is hard work, the deeper you get with the well, the harder it is. Finally, you are about 20 or more feet down there digging away. Toward the end of the day, you are wet, cold, dirty, tired, hungry, and mad. It is cold down there. Have you heard this statement “I am as cold as a well digger.”

The water drips down on you and mud and dirt falls down your shirt collar. You do not see any advancement or chance for promotion in the job of being an assistant to a well digger. You need the money, so you work on it. Finally, you hit a beautiful stream of water. It rushes in on you pretty fast and you have to change to high gear. You go to washing the walls, filling the buckets and prepare to go to higher ground because you have struck water and plenty of it.

In those early days I helped many well diggers. After all, it was not so bad, we would have water from everything, and plenty of it. Right then and there, I decided that the man who did the witching had a much easier job than we fellows who dug the well.

Rubbie Dub Dub – Two Men in a Tub

Have you heard a comedian, musician or a performer play a tune on the old-time brass rub board? It is a beautiful day in July 1908. It is the weekly was day in our home and the home of Mrs. Fannie Crump. She presided with dignity and common sense over her home with 4 boys and 3 girls. My mother and I and my smaller brother, Joe, gather our clothes to be washed. We walk up to her home to join in the hard work festivities of putting out the weekly washing.

The wash place is near a the well. The big black wash pot it filed with water, a fire is started around it to heat the water. The wash bench is large enough for three tubs. The big battling block is nearby with a battling stick handy. It is handmade and is used to beat the dirt out of some work clothes. The was place isa model of efficiency. Work clothes are transferred from the was pot to the battling block, to the scrubbing tub where they get the rub board workout. You soon develop a rhythm of your own that sounds like a certain kind of music. It is rub board music, not so satisfying.

Any part of this operation is hard work, drudgery by the standards of today and hard physical labor. It was a must in all families of that day, and we accepted it as part of living. Here we have my mother and her two children, Mrs. Crump and her three girls and two boys all engaged in the work of putting out the weekly washing. There is no hurry. There are no clocks to watch or punch. It is a beautiful day for gossip, visiting, and passing along the news of the community. It is good fellowship in its finest, out in the open air. After all, it is not too bad. We are all in the same boat and we learn to love each other.

The wash pot, battling block, battling stick, the rub board, the old well that has been so reliable all these years have all but gone with the wind. From 1900 to 1978 there has been no improvement by manufacturers in the washboard, the washpot or the wash tubs. Actually, they look today just about like those of the early 1900s.

Let’s put out a big family washing in 1978. The washing machine and the dryer are indoors, often in your own home. The weather does not matter. You sort out the clothes, open the washing machine, start stuffing clothes into the chamber, add some washing powder, turn on the water and power and you are in business. The machine begins to sputter, rumble, groan, slosh water, and you think it is going to blow up or take off. Your clothes are jostled from one side to the other, up and down, over and under, and through and back over to do the rock and roll. While the machine is doing this you have talked on the telephone, gone to the mailbox, looked at a TV program, enjoyed cake and coffee. Your washing is now ready for the dryer, a separate idiot machine that does wonders while you are cooking lunch.

Many inventions have come forth in these 78 years. The refrigerator, the deep freezer, radio, television to name a few. How very fortunate I am to have lived within this fast-moving time. Now I ask you to select the greatest invention to help the housewife, my mother and your mother or sister.

My selection is the washing machine and the dryer as the greatest invention of all time to help the housewife. The refrigerator would be a close second or do you say the dish washer or something else. We are now living in a great country amid great times, fast moving times. Put this living through the ringer and get out of it all you can.

Corn Bread for Breakfast

 As I approached my 77th on February 24th, 1979, many good things began to happen. First there was a trip down memory lane to Shelby County. It was in 1923 when I saw the last basketball game in Shelby County. It was on a sand lot. We read in the papers that the Center High School Basketball team will be in Tyler on Tuesday night, February 20th to meet Daingerfield at Floyd Wagstaff Gym at Tyler Junior College. There is no rule which says that a 77-year-old and 72-year-old roommate should not go to such a fine affair. We wedged ourselves right into a group of Center High School students and we were not long in getting acquainted. Just then, James Paul Wilson came by and pointed out that his daughter, Tracy Wilson was a cheerleader. His mother, Mrs. Buford Wilson of Center, is my oldest sister. We see Mr. Floyd Wagstaff walking across one end of the court. He must have been a very happy man. He came from Shelby County, and he must have played some sand lot basketball when he was a youngster. From the very beginning, it was fast, loud, noisy and one of the most exciting games we have witnessed. With much gusto, we lapped it up and we blew our smoke toward the sky.

Next, I had a most enjoyable visit with Preston and Lurene Billingsley. We discussed old times, the times in which we now live, grandchildren, current events. One of the things we talked about was the awful panic of 1912 and 1913 and how it affected Shelby County. Prices were higher but people did have money. Work was plentiful, construction was brisk, cotton washigher, and Europe was at war. Our ships were being sunk in the Atlantic and it looked like wewere headed for war. It is not long until it is declared that a state of war exists between Germany and the United States. From that time, things began to change. The whole country was mobilized. People were urged to plant and grow more cotton, food and other farm products. Sawmills were humming and that big circular saw seemed to be saying “Give me your logs and I will return you good clear, flooring, siding, ceiling or any other type of lumber needed.” Food and other items were rationed, especially flour. Rationing became tighter and tighter. Finally, we could no longer buy flour as and when we needed it. During this time, we learned to do without flour for cakes and bread. We had cornbread for breakfast almost every day except Sunday. This way of life was accepted by everyone during this critical time. We had no shoes, and we complained, until we met a man who had not feet.

Note: The current exhibit “Working on the Farm” will soon be taken down so if you haven’t had the opportunity to see this exhibit, please visit the museum soon. It is a look into the past showing some of the equipment/tools used on the farm stead. I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who helped make this exhibit great.

Also, it is the time of year to renew you membership subscription to the museum. This is our major funding stream to keep the museum open. Your support is greatly needed. The annual fee is only $25 for a family.  Help us keep the history of Shelby County for generations to come.