Singleton recounts hunting for ginseng in the Lone Star community

Leaves of the American Ginseng plant.

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Ginseng: the likeness of man” was originally published in the Oct. 14, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

Ginseng is mostly found in low, shady, wet places, stated Milford Champion of the Pine Orchard community: “It will be a hot walk; there’s a steep hill to climb, but I can show you some. Funny thing about ginseng, it grows where you least expect to find it.”

It takes the ginseng seed two years to sprout, re-seeds itself each time just like many other wild plants. A good way to identify ginseng is by the leaves. Each sprout will have five leaves on it. The plant is not valuable, but the roots are.

Ginseng grows only in parts of the United States, China and Korea. The Chinese will pay a high price for a pound of ginseng roots. They use it to make medicine. Also, it’s supposed to bring good luck.

Back during the depression, the small cotton farmer around here dug ginseng roots and sometimes could make more from digging them than he could on his cotton crop. They say that if you find a root of ginseng that’s shaped like a person’s hand, you can almost name your price for it.

We left our vehicle and walked down a steep hill about three miles west of Lone Star Church. As we descended the hill, I was careful to notice where I was walking in order to avoid making the same mistake I made on my last venture. I was almost bitten by a huge diamondback rattler, close enough that he caught his fangs in my pants leg. This was hard on the nerves, so I vowed to be more careful in the future.

We reached the bottom of the steep hill and turned along the base for a few yards, across some broken limestone rocks. There’s some right there, said Champion. “See right there on the hillside.”

We dug around the plant, being careful not to damage the roots. With the aid of a sharp rock and a pocketknife, we soon had our prize out of the ground. The roots were about the size of a small relish, white in color, with an odor that smarted the nostrils.

We rested awhile under the cool shade of the huge bay trees and from time to time tasted the ginseng roots and commented on what they tasted like. We couldn’t recall anything the smell resembled.

Why doesn’t someone cultivate ginseng? I asked. It has been tried, replied Champion, but for some reason or other, only wild ginseng is valuable. “Funny thing about Mother Nature, there’s a few things that she keeps to herself.”

Amen, I said. Then we tackled the hill.

(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)