When you live in the country, and there is a task at hand that requires instant action, that's when it's time to improvise! Thank you, Mrs. Donna Stevens for sharing your sweet memory!
My “Sorghum” Memories:
I remember growing up outside Wallace, West Virginia on the “Estlack” Farm. All the neighbors gathered to cook sorghum. I remember they used a mule to turn the mill to make the “juice” from the cane. One memorable day, the pit was dug, fire made and the “sorghum to be” was boiling and my father, Paul Starkey, realized they had no skimmers to use. My mother, Leona, was visiting a neighbor. My Dad sawed the handles off her mop and broom and nailed two of her best pie pans on the ends. Instant skimmers!! My mother was not happy! Needless to say, this story was told often. My mother never found it funny, though! I have fond memories of those times. We moved away later, but it was a magical time to be a child. I still love the smell and taste of real sorghum!
Mrs. Donna (Starkey) Stevens
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