Seems when you ask older folks where they were brought up, or about directions, they refer to places such as the Jim Place, Terry Place or the Henderson Place.

In this story, I’m going to tell you about a place my folks referred to as the Joe Place. This old farm was located in northern Richmond County, close to the intersection of Concord Church Road and Johnson Road. There were about 30 acres of cultivated land and the rest of the 60 acres was in woods. Also on the land were three old tenant houses and two log tobacco barns. Why, the barns were newer than the houses, because the farm had previously been used to grow cotton. The houses and the barns were both heated with wood because there wasn’t any power in most rural areas in Richmond County until the middle ’40s.

Granddaddy Bolton bought the Joe Place to grow tobacco and corn on. The soil was sandy and had a lot of pea gravel, unlike the white flint rock and hard clay soil of where my grandparents lived at the Ewing Place on Mountain Creek. Being only a couple of miles or so through the woods, an old wagon trail was used to get from the Ewing Place to the Joe Place.

My folks tried living in one of the houses at the Joe Place one year, but found the well did not have enough clean water to care for the family and water the stock too. Also the Ewing Place had a better house and a much bigger barn for the livestock.

Using only mules to work the land, it took a lot of time and labor to till the sandy soil. Homemade sleds were used to carry 200-pound sacks of fertilizer and farm equipment, such as plows, back and forth to the Joe Place.

My grandparents and their three sons worked both farms. Also helping on the farms was the Sis Crump family, who lived in one of the tenant houses. Sis would cook the meals and wash the clothes for both families while her boys helped on the farm. Both families shared the good times and the bad times that rural farm life had to offer. To hear them tell it, hog-killing time was one of their favorite times ‘cause both families got to eat well. Why, one of Sis’ homemade sausage biscuits was just about to die for and her egg custard pies were the best around. In the summer time, on Saturday evening, you would find Sis fishing in the Capel Mill pond or along Mountain Creek with several of her cane poles, for she loved to fish.

Also helping the Bolton family on the farm was an old man by the name of Stamey. Ol’ Stamey had farmed with the Bolton family for years. He was getting on up in age, but even with his bent back and gray hair, he managed to do things like feed and water the livestock or other small jobs around the farm. All his family had either died out or moved on and Granddaddy allowed Stamey to stay on at the place. One of Stamey’s favorite things to do was to set rabbit gums (boxes). In the summertime, while cleaning out the mule stalls, he would take buckets of litter and throw it around honeysuckle vines. As the honeysuckle vines flourished, so did the rabbits. Folks said he could catch more rabbits than anybody around that part of the county.

Back in the ’30s, folks were trying to come out from under the sting of the Great Depression. For the farmers, low cotton prices and the boll weevil had just about put them out of business. Some folks had lost their land and moved on to whatever work they could find. For the farmers in Richmond County that were still in business, tobacco seemed to be the new cash crop — even if they knew very little about growing the crop.

The Federal Land Bank had foreclosed on a lot of Richmond County farms in the late ’20s and early ’30s and now they were ready to unload the land. They advertised around the state that there was good farm land for sale to grow tobacco on, right here in Richmond County.

Seems farmers in Virginia and the foothills of the N.C. mountains had been growing tobacco for years. When the Depression hit, a lot of them lost their farms and were looking for work as sharecroppers. The folks who did have a little money got tired of farming the rocky soil of the mountains. Hearing of the good, soft, sandy land to grow tobacco on here in the Sandhills, they bought up small tracts of farm land in Richmond and surrounding counties.

Like I said earlier, farmers already living in Richmond County didn’t know much about growing tobacco. A lot of trial and error took place. Some farmers had no idea how to build a tobacco barn — much less cure the stuff. Why, even if they got their barn built, some folks burnt their barns down trying to cure the golden leaf.

Word soon got around from the mountain farmers who moved here that some of the folks still in the mountains would be willing to come down and build tobacco barns for the local farmers. Well, one thing lead to another, and word spread in the mountains that sharecroppers and folks that knew how to farm tobacco were in a big demand in Richmond County.

Wanting to learn more about growing tobacco on his new farm, my granddaddy got in contact with the Cobler family, who lived above Mount Airy. Mr. Cobler had been recommended by one of his former neighbors who had already moved to Richmond County. Folks said Mr. Cobler was a good farmer, but as with so many other farmers, the Depression had taken its toll on the Cobler farm.

After several letters, an agreement was worked out between the two families for the Cobler family to move to Richmond County and farm with the Bolton family. One of the stipulations was that my granddaddy had to provide transportation for the Cobler family to move.

So happened, my Uncle Everette had bought an old World War I army truck the past year to use on the farm. The bed of the truck had been replaced with a wooden flatbed and high side planks surrounded the bed. If’en this truck could make it to Mount Airy and back, it would be a perfect vehicle to move the Cobbler family with.

An early spring date was set to move the family to Richmond County. My uncle was to be at the Cobler’s home about midday the day before so everything could be loaded on the truck. ‘Bout 1 p.m., my uncle finally made it up the winding roads to the Cobler Place. After a bit, the Coblers had loaded everything they owned on the truck, including wash pots, tin tubs, beds, chairs and even an old hillside plow. My uncle wanted to leave before day the next morning, but Mr. Cobler told him they had to catch the chickens off the roost before they could leave.

Finally, after daylight the next morning, all the chickens were placed in cages and the cages tied on top of the truck. Now, if’en any of y’all ever watched the show “Beverly Hillbillies,” their old truck probably looked a lot like my uncle’s truck headed out of Mount Airy. Why, there won’t much room in the cab with my uncle driving, Mr. and Mrs. Cobler setting beside him holding young’uns, and the floor board full of dogs.

Seems the road won’t in much shape between Mount Airy and Winton-Salem. With all this load and the truck bouncing around, a hole formed in the radiator. Steam was coming from all up under the hood and they were forced to stop. By the time all the people and dogs piled out of the cab of the truck, the radiator had cooled down. Why, they didn’t do nothing but fill the radiator with creek water, poured a tin of black pepper in on top of the water and by-golly, it temporarily patched the leak. They all loaded back in the cab and headed toward their new home, north of Ellerbe.

Next time I’ll tell you about some of my adventures on the Joe Place.

J.A. Bolton is a member of the N.C. Storytelling Guild, Anson County Writer’s Club, Anson and Richmond County Historical Societies and author on his new book “Just Passing Time.”

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J.A. Bolton.

Storyteller