dan's squirrel hunting story got me to thinking about the early morning hours and getting up early.
when i was about 11 or 12, in 1967 or so, i had the opportunity to work and make money for myself for the first time other than a home builder that use to give us change to pick up around a house he had built.my brother was about 15 or so at the time and he had tried to get a job at the local a&w root beer stand but that fell through and he found out he could make some money picking okra.
well not only that,so could i.man, the idea of having money to shoot pool with and play pinball and all the other things kids wasted money on came into my mind,although i don't think shooting pool is a waste of money
.
well i found out we would get 4 cents a pound to pick it and all the things you would need,it was for a man named mr.tanner and he lived on dogtown road.i'm sure it had a county road designation but people just called it dogtown road.we lived about a mile from the city limit sign and it was a couple more miles to mr.tanners and we road our bikes out there,and several other boys from the street were going to pick also.
they wanted you to pick the pods that were about an inck and half to about 7 or 8 inches long and they wanted you to bust the pods bigger than that off and throw them away,some of the okra growers would have mexican families come after we finished and cut the big pods off,they must have paid them a flat rate.
the equipment you needed was a belt,rubber gloves,and a long sleeve shirt,it was early after school had let out for the summer,we had to get up at 4.30 and be out there about 5 and we picked till the field was done,usually about 10.30 or 11 o'clock and then the mexicans would come in if the farmer used them.
most of the grown ups and bigger boys would have two half bushel baskets ,one on each hip fastened by your belt going through the split wood of the basket.you could pick two rows at a time that way but i started out with just one and picked one row,but after i got the hang of it i started doing two the next year.
well,the first year the big money was about maybe 3.50 to 4 dollars for me,and i can't remember what my brother was making but some would stay on and pull cantelopes.my brother wound up getting a grocery store job and so me and the boys from the street rode our bikes out together,and there were some big dogs on dogtown road that would come out to chase and bark at us as we went by.
i remember getting up late one day and i had to make up time to try and catch up with the others and when i got to where the big dogs lived here they came,i tried to out run them but my chain guard was of my bike and my britches leg got caught in the chain and down i went onto the old chalk roadbed they used on unpaved county roads,shale if you will,we called it white rock.
well old big dog was standing over me panting and barking and the other dogs were barking to,the owner came out on the porch just in time to hear me cussin' his dogs.
well,i made it,and that summer i had me some spending money for saturday nights at the poolroom or skating rink,and for cokes and peanuts,toastchee and nipchee crackers and the occasional hotlink sandwich or frito chili pie.
i picked for two more summers after that but i picked for a different farmer who paid a nickel a pound,and i think when the plants were good i could make 7 to 8 dollars a morning,occasionally more.
the picking season only lasted a month and a half or two,my memory's not to clear about that.
dan's story made me think of this,the heavy dew of the morning,but more than that was the unmerciful attack of the chiggers on your private parts in those okra fields,i probably smelled like campho-phenique(sp)lots of times
.when i got wiser i put talcum in my rubber gloves to keep my hands dry and took a little extra along and i kept a piece of plastic around to wear like an apron on those mornings with heavy dew to keep dry.
walking around with a couple of half bushel baskets full of okra on your hips takes some getting use to,i bet it was rougher on the adults who were out there trying to make a few extra dollars,the farmers daughter would weigh your baskets and then write down the weight next to yor name,then she would help with the cull.
i'll never forget those days,i was sure glad to get a grocery store job once i turned 16
.
when i was about 11 or 12, in 1967 or so, i had the opportunity to work and make money for myself for the first time other than a home builder that use to give us change to pick up around a house he had built.my brother was about 15 or so at the time and he had tried to get a job at the local a&w root beer stand but that fell through and he found out he could make some money picking okra.
well not only that,so could i.man, the idea of having money to shoot pool with and play pinball and all the other things kids wasted money on came into my mind,although i don't think shooting pool is a waste of money
.well i found out we would get 4 cents a pound to pick it and all the things you would need,it was for a man named mr.tanner and he lived on dogtown road.i'm sure it had a county road designation but people just called it dogtown road.we lived about a mile from the city limit sign and it was a couple more miles to mr.tanners and we road our bikes out there,and several other boys from the street were going to pick also.
they wanted you to pick the pods that were about an inck and half to about 7 or 8 inches long and they wanted you to bust the pods bigger than that off and throw them away,some of the okra growers would have mexican families come after we finished and cut the big pods off,they must have paid them a flat rate.
the equipment you needed was a belt,rubber gloves,and a long sleeve shirt,it was early after school had let out for the summer,we had to get up at 4.30 and be out there about 5 and we picked till the field was done,usually about 10.30 or 11 o'clock and then the mexicans would come in if the farmer used them.
most of the grown ups and bigger boys would have two half bushel baskets ,one on each hip fastened by your belt going through the split wood of the basket.you could pick two rows at a time that way but i started out with just one and picked one row,but after i got the hang of it i started doing two the next year.
well,the first year the big money was about maybe 3.50 to 4 dollars for me,and i can't remember what my brother was making but some would stay on and pull cantelopes.my brother wound up getting a grocery store job and so me and the boys from the street rode our bikes out together,and there were some big dogs on dogtown road that would come out to chase and bark at us as we went by.
i remember getting up late one day and i had to make up time to try and catch up with the others and when i got to where the big dogs lived here they came,i tried to out run them but my chain guard was of my bike and my britches leg got caught in the chain and down i went onto the old chalk roadbed they used on unpaved county roads,shale if you will,we called it white rock.
well old big dog was standing over me panting and barking and the other dogs were barking to,the owner came out on the porch just in time to hear me cussin' his dogs.
well,i made it,and that summer i had me some spending money for saturday nights at the poolroom or skating rink,and for cokes and peanuts,toastchee and nipchee crackers and the occasional hotlink sandwich or frito chili pie.
i picked for two more summers after that but i picked for a different farmer who paid a nickel a pound,and i think when the plants were good i could make 7 to 8 dollars a morning,occasionally more.
the picking season only lasted a month and a half or two,my memory's not to clear about that.
dan's story made me think of this,the heavy dew of the morning,but more than that was the unmerciful attack of the chiggers on your private parts in those okra fields,i probably smelled like campho-phenique(sp)lots of times
.when i got wiser i put talcum in my rubber gloves to keep my hands dry and took a little extra along and i kept a piece of plastic around to wear like an apron on those mornings with heavy dew to keep dry.walking around with a couple of half bushel baskets full of okra on your hips takes some getting use to,i bet it was rougher on the adults who were out there trying to make a few extra dollars,the farmers daughter would weigh your baskets and then write down the weight next to yor name,then she would help with the cull.
i'll never forget those days,i was sure glad to get a grocery store job once i turned 16
.
