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 PRE 1900 |
File Identification:Outlaw-344 | Date Scanned:ephotos | Source of Scanned Image: | |
| Original Source of Image:William H. Outlaw Jr. | Digital Archiver:William H. Outlaw Jr. | Image Restorer: | ||
| Original Image Size: | Scan Resolution (dpi) (Reduced files=200 dpi):300 | Exact Date of Original Image:October-November, 2010 | ||
| Estimated Date of Original Image: | Basis for Date Estimate: | Unreduced File Size(px):3215 x 2136 | ||
| Location:W.H. Outlaw Farm, Nashville, GA | Background:Pecan Orchard | Activity: | ||
| Unreduced File Size(MB):5.5 | Reduced File Size (px):800 x 531 | Reduced File Size (KB):220 | ||
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| Comments:The bulk of our farm was bought by my ggrandfather Jerry S. \"Buck\" Sutton from Stephen Lewis in February, 1885. He owned this farm until he sold it in 1912 to his son-in-law, my grandfather Lucious G. Outlaw, and purchased other and better property near Lenox, Georgia. Grandpa Buck planted the pecan orchard, but I do not know exactly when, but would think before 1900, hence the placement of this entry. The original orchard had three rows running north and south (marked by the white lines), all seedlings. The eastern row (marked with a 1) had about 6 trees in it and the western row (marked with a 3), perhaps 4. The trees were of various sizes, but some were the largest pecan trees I have ever seen, and this is not hyperbole. Huge, especially the eastern row, which was a bit higher and free of competition. Well, of course, the tallest tree catches the wind (and the Chinese use this as an analogy to admonish mentees to lay low and avoid notice) and, in double jeopardy, the tallest objects catch the lightning. Thus, it was so that by 2010, only 6 trees of the nominal 15 remained. Those trees were holding only barely onto life, being eaten from within by fungi. The choice was whether to take all the trees down at once while I had the equipment on site, or whether I would clean them up one at a time as they fell. Memories in that orchard abound and grow more dear with the years. I remember as yesterday that Grandpa Watson had some cows in the orchard to graze and Larry Watson and I climbed into the pecan trees, which allowed us to wait until the unwary cow wandered into position. Then, we dropped down onto them for a brief ride. Later, when I was a youngish man, I picked up pecans for Daddy and he delighted in saving this extra income in a small jar by his chair. One of my most frightened episodes also took place right there. I had gotten a Duroc sow from the 4-H program (the idea was to raise the sow, and return two purebred pigs to the program for distribution in this geometric scheme). Unfortunately--for both of us--her forte was not in reproduction, and she only had one pig. I was pretty well outdone and sold her and she tried her hand at being sausage and I hope she was better at it than being a brood sow. There was that pig, though. At first, I was unable to catch it and just decided to let nature take its course--after all, how long could a 1-2 week-old pig make it on his own? Well, in short, the answer to my question is essentially forever, at least in pig years. I had a piney-woods rooter that found pigs about the time I sold his milk source. He adapted quickly and the rooter had no objection. The problem was, being a little ahead of his adopted siblings, he acted like a pig and kept them knocked away and had, as before, a whole sow for himself. Obviously, this was, again, not a winning situation for me. So, I determined to catch the little bastard and kill him. The first part went well, I caught him, but then we departed from the playbook. I was holding him by a hind leg and he started squealing, which drove the rooter crazy. She charged and I was able to reach down and pick up a short piece of lightwood. The pig was squealing in my left hand, I banged the sow across her snout with my right hand, she squealed with pain and took a step forward and I, a step backwards. We went through several iterations until she had had enough and ran off. I stood there, literally shaking with fear. (I was about 13, alone, and weighed perhaps 1/2 of what the sow weighed--I knew it would not be pretty if she knocked me down.) In my fear--after I had beat the sow off--I dropped the pig and it ran off. Time went on, and I did not catch the pig again, and it grew into a handsome boar. Uncle Cornelius bought it from me to service his sows; the darned thing grew to about 800 pounds and Uncle Cornelius had to build some kind of support for it to breed since the sows could not support his massive weight. The stars were right when that little pig was born! Supplemental Image A is the original image (i.e.,without my Photoshop work). Supplemental Image B shows the excavator (D&D from Nashville, GA; owner, Jimmy Drawdy) removing a tree. |
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| Download Supplemental Image A | Download Reduced Image (Original Image can be supplied upon request.) |
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