Singleton thinks back on old-timey farming methods of the 1930s

(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 “Smiling mule proves farming has changed” was originally published in the Feb. 19, 1976 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

When one looks back a few years and thinks about the many changes that have taken place in our methods of farming, he is amazed.

Our modern know-how and the latest methods of cultivation are a far cry from what farming was when I was growing up on a farm.

A few days ago, I had the opportunity to observe some of this modern farming first-hand. As I was traveling near Bermuda, I came upon a good friend of mine, Darryl Watson, who was breaking land.

He was preparing the land for the planting season, which will soon be upon us. As I stood there and marveled at the new farming machinery before me, thoughts filled my mind of the many changes that have taken place in the past 30 years.

Making a round

After admiring this new machinery, Darryl insisted that I make a round or two with this engineering marvel.

I climbed up and stepped into the air-conditioned compartment where the operator sat. As I sat down in the plush seat, with the cool air blowing on me and the stereo playing soft music that anyone would like to listen to, I thought of the long cotton rows that I remembered as a boy.

As I headed the huge tractor toward the other side of the field, I thought of that tough-mouthed mule and his contrariness that tested my patience to the limits of my soul.

I thought of the long, hot days that never seem to end as I guided the huge machine with one finger. I thought of the aches and pain that were present when the day was finished after a day in the field.

Humor and laughter

I thought also of the humor and laughter that was associated with the plowing of a stubborn, flop-eared mule.

Just a short distance from where I grew up, there lived a man who was unique by all standards when it came to plowing a mule.

Many times I have been scolded and on occasion, spanked, for slipping and hiding in the fence row and listening to the language that would put a seasoned seafaring man to shame. His vocabulary was one that would almost scorch the hair on the back of that mule that he was plowing.

Not only was his language original, but he was a stubborn as the animal he was lecturing to.

One day as the old gentleman was laying by some corn that was near a favorite hiding place of mine, I observed the following drama that took place in the all corn before me.

No muzzle

In those days it was customary to put a muzzle on a mule when you plowed one around anything that was tall enough for the mule to bite.

But not this fellow. Each time his mule took a bite of the tall corn, he would let loose with a volley of his original cuss words. He would then slap the mule viciously across the back with the plow line.

As he was making his turn at the end of the last row, the old mule reached out and bit a large stalk of corn.

This time the old man didn’t say a word. He stopped, and with great care rolled up his shirt sleeve. He calmly walked around in front of the mule and hit him square in the mouth as hard as he could.

Smiling mule

The language that came forth was beyond belief. While he jumped up and down and slung his hurt fingers, he got even madder. All at once, he raced around to the left side of the mule and gave him a sound kick up near the shoulder.

As the old man’s foot came down, his shoe heel caught behind the trace chain. There he hung, with one foot high in the air and the other lodged in the harness.

The mule turned and looked directly at the old man hanging there. And if there is such a thing as a gray mule smiling, this one did.

Yes, sir, farming surely has changed.

(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 also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. 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.)