Last Thursday night, we had a little get together, more accurately an eating meeting. It was The Midville Moccasins which is our group of friends who have made an annual camping trip down The Mighty Ogeechee for close to thirty years. We come together to break bread quite frequently.
We had fried bream, hushpuppies, French fries and coleslaw. The food is always good and the fellowship even better. We were discussing the hushpuppies and just how good they are with cane syrup. I make the hushpuppies with jalapenos and onions, and they are quite tasty, but drag one through some good syrup and it’s even better.
We always have a good supply of syrup on hand and it’s some of the best I’ve ever eaten. During our discussion, one of my lifelong friends said his father-in-law was cooking syrup Friday morning. It was his father-in-law’s syrup that we were eating and discussing. I quickly accepted the offer to come that next morning.
So, I got up that next day and drove to a neighboring county to visit with my friends. Mr. Charles, his father-in-law, has been my buddy for many years and I have the utmost respect for him. Although I’ve been there before when he makes syrup, each time is always a learning experience for me.
I have always been fascinated with syrup making. As a child I went to my great uncle’s farm as he made syrup each year. I was not really old enough to fully understand the whole process, but I reveled in chewing a stalk of cane and drinking enough cane juice to make myself sick. In the years since I have tried to learn as much as I could about the whole process of “syrup boiling”.
Mr. Charles told me he waited until he got old to start making syrup. He was 75 when he started and is now 87 years old. He claims this is his last year doing it, but we shall see. His wife, Miss Betty Lou, is right alongside him making sure everything is done properly. Mr. Charles and Miss Betty Lou are always more than happy to answer any questions that I might have.
Mr. Charles grew up around syrup making as well and has talked many times of his grandfather making syrup. When he decided to start making it himself, he and Miss Betty Lou went and spent time with a man who was a master at it. Miss Betty Lou has shown me a spiral bound notebook that she used to write down every word that old syrup maker said.
Mr. Charles told me last Friday morning that he learns something new with each cooking of syrup that he does and I learn something new as well each time. I watched Miss Betty Lou sprinkle about a tablespoon of baking soda into the syrup kettle last week. The baking soda will make it almost boil over, and make impurities come to the top to be skimmed off. I was watching closely and making mental notes.
You see, the truth is, I have been really contemplating making syrup myself. It is an old tradition here in the South and I want to be able to continue what all the folks before me have done. I have a friend, who is a little older than me, that lived across the road from my great uncle who made syrup. He was old enough to remember it all.
My friend also has a tobacco burner, used to cook the syrup and a 60-gallon syrup boiler. I have a cousin who is also one of my very best friends, who is truly an old soul like us and wants to be involved as well. He is a farmer and has offered to be in charge of growing the sugar cane needed to make syrup. I hope that we will one day be able to master the art of syrup boiling.
I love the ways of old and often thought I was born in the wrong generation, born too late if you will. I know that I’m here now because this is my time to be on this earth, but I have a deep longing for days gone by. Recently I read something that has resounded in my head over and over. It said that maybe we were not born in the wrong generation, but that we were born when we were to keep the old days alive. I have unknowingly been trying to do that my whole life.
A syrup boiling has always been a social event, but it is also a time to talk and have meaningful conversation. For me, it is a pure delight to be in the presence of the older folks. I have always been drawn to older people, even when I was a mere boy. I’m like a sponge, trying to soak up all the knowledge and wisdom they have to offer. The older folks are the ones who have helped shape me into who I am today and I’m thankful for their influence on my life.
Last Friday morning when I walked into the cook shed, Mr. Charles was standing over that syrup boiler skimming the syrup. He looked up and saw me, that little grin came over his face and he said, “another miracle just walked through the door”. I smiled and said, “yes sir”. I am a walking miracle, having lived through a massive stroke back in February.
Mr. Charles had his own health problems in the last several months himself. He told me he was in his hospital room with the door open and his doctor walked by. He invited the doctor to come in and visit. The doctor declined the offer as he had somewhere else to be, but he told Mr. Charles that he just had to come see what a miracle looked like. The miracles that Mr. Charles and I both experienced are even better than that good syrup we love so much.
