Derita Families in the late 1940's & 50's

The Neighbors

I, Ann Boovy Gunson - moved to Derita in 1948, when my father had our new home built there at 2727 Gibbons Road.

When we moved in, Gibbons Road was a dirt road. The property next door to our new home was FARM LAND.

The owner of the property had a large family, and he raised most of his vegetables to feed his family. He had a beautiful garden - A real Showplace. He also had 2 old mules - their names were Luke and Nadine. He would hook Luke up to the hand plow and he kept that garden so weed free you could
not find a weed anywhere. He even, at the end of a growing season; would allow beans to dry up purposely. I remember he had Limas Beans, etc. up in the attic drying for the Winter Pantry.

He had a large garage outback of his house; he was a Mechanic by trade, and it was said He was the "BEST REAR-END mechanic in all of the area. He worked for Charlotte Transit on the City Bus Fleet.

Shortly after we moved in I became friends of one of their daughters, they had 3 girls and 4 boys. I'll refer to the girl I befriended as "Lefty Lynda." We became best of friends, and were inseparable. She was about a year younger than I, but we got along great. She was either at my house or I was at her house all the time. If we were away from home at mealtime, our mothers just put another plate on the table and we put our feet under the table as if we belonged there.

Lynda's mother made Homemade Biscuits 3 times a day. She had great big bread pans and she always made two of them full for each meal. I can still remember those Biscuits, they were big light and fluffy, never gummy. They would melt in your mouth. Sometimes she would have a jar of homemade Apple Jelly on the table to spread on them with a big dab of real Butter.

Once I asked my mother if I could spend the night over with Lynda. For some reason it did not suit her. Guess what, I went anyway. Mother waited until she knew we would be in bed, and came over to their house with a flashlight to get me. She came up to the window where we were sleeping, and knocked on the side of the house. She said, "Ann I know you are in there. You get up, do not dress, get your shoes on and come on out here.You areGoing Home!" She wanted me to know when she said something she meant it. When I got out there she had a "Little Keen Switch" (a small branch from a shrubbery). She whipped my bare legs all the way home. Needless to say, I think that is the last time I went there without permission
--- Ann Boovy Gunson ==================================================

Thanks, Ann.
That's a great little vignette on growing up in Derita in the late 1940's & 50's. I remember the biscuits that my own Mom used to make back then. Thin & crisp, but tasty. Just a hint of salt, so they worked great with jelly, butter or the sausage gravy she frequently made at breakfast time. Imagine my surprise to find that her two sisters made those larger mouth-watering type that you write about. Always loved going to my Aunt's houses for a Sunday lunch, so I could eat my fill of those biscuits. I could practically make a meal off of them.

Remember the "switchings," too. Mom would reinforce her rules by sending either my older brother or I out to cut them ourselves. Pity either of us that came back with a "limp" Switch. She was a kind, loving Mom. . . but we took some "regular reminding" not to disobey her.

I'm thinking that your friend Lefty and her siblings probably had chores to do around the farm. My Mom was the eldest daughter on a family farm near the base of Six Mile Mountain in Pickens County, S.C. Her daily chores included cooking for her Mom & Dad, her five siblings, and a half-dozen or so field hands (neighbor boys who lived with her family because their own folks could not afford to feed, clothe or shelter them); She and her two sisters fed the chickens, gathered the eggs, milked the cows, and handled the washing & cleaning, while the boys all worked in the fields. She also helped her Dad in the little family store (largely barter back then) they ran at the dirt crossroads called "Terrapin's Crossing."
--- Bernie Samonds
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Refrigerators and Electricity

Derita Historian Ona Welch Pucklett writes about those early years when a family had to buy either a refrigerator or an electric stove to get power run to their house. I believe it 1917, she said, when the first lines were run to Derita to power the lights for the Derita Floral Supply greenhouses. Long before the Food Lion shopping center was built on North Graham St., their many, many glass and poly-covered growing houses covered that whole area and spilled across the street to the big lot next door to Players Sporting Goods.

As a kid, I used to play army with my buddies over on Nevin Road. We'd go down the hill to the creek between what's now Hoover Drive and Granite Creek Lane. Before long, we'd end up at the ruins of the Stephens Farm Spring House. . . a huge concrete block building with water-filled holes cut in the concrete floor where they'd sink the huge milk cans from their dairy after milking. Cool water from the creek nearby seeped into the holes and kept the milk fresh until it was picked up or needed. Before that, how folks kept things cold was a real puzzlement to me. My folks owned a Westinghouse for years. But I do recall visiting with country kinfolks in South Carolina who still had "refrigerator boxes" cooled by a big block of ice.

Being a grocer's kid, we didn't have a "Winter Pantry," but I can tell you about some local folks who did . . . But that will have to keep until next time.
---- Bernie Samonds
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Miss Lillian's Pantry

Anna Gunson mentioned her neighbor's Winter Pantry. Being a grocer's son, we didn't have one, but my kinfolks did.

In my Aunt's pantry you'd find stone ground flour, baskets of sweet potatoes, apples & pears individually wrapped in newspapers. Tomatoes pulled just before the frost hung in bunches, still on the vine. Nearby, but not too close were those spicy red peppers done the same way. And nestled in their original Kerr Mason jar boxes were all sorts of vegetables to see them through the winter. Green beans, cooked corn, more tomatoes, butter beans, pintos, and more.

I remember visiting at George & Lillian Bates' house one afternoon over on Hewitt Drive (just around the street from the Derita Post Office about where the Fairstone neighborhood sits now). Mrs. Bates taught school nine months of the year, but summers were devoted to canning. Like so many older folks who remembered the Great Depression, she kept a well-stocked pantry.

Mr. Bates was anxious to try a jar of the newly-made dill pickles. (She grew her own herbs, just like my Mom did). Well, she brought out a jar, fished out a beautiful dill with a fork and handed it to him wrapped in a paper towel. "Is this one you just made," he asked.

"They're not ready yet, got to set for a couple of weeks to be good. That one's from the summer before last," she said. "Got to finish those off before we start into the new."

Mr. Bates cocked his head, raised his finger in the air as if to make a point, even opened his mouth to speak . . . but thinking better on the moment, decided to say nothing. He just chewed on that pickle. That story maybe lost on those of you who did not know Mr. Bates. Around the house, he dressed as a farmer in jean overalls, faded shirt over a white longjohn top, sleeves rolled up, and wore a straw hat with a green plastic half-moon up front. Kept a navy blue calico handkerchief hanging out of his pocket to wipe up thesweat from his forehead or running off his nose as he worked in their huge garden and the tree farm he had started . . . But by day, he wore a business suit and dealt with bankers, construction bosses, and the big department store owners downtown. You see, he was vice-president of the Golden Eagle Motor Lodge chain, headquartered on North Tryon St. here in Charlotte. He spoke his mind, forcefully, loud and often. People listened. But he knew better than to ever raise his voice to Miss Lillian. --- Bernie Samonds