“Cotton Pickin’ Memories”

During a recent trip to Hobart I surveyed the ongoing cotton harvest. I met several picking machines on the highway as they changed locations. Modules of cotton stood alone in some fields and in line at the gin north of Hobart. Unharvested fields shone brightly in the midday sun. For years, very little cotton was grown in southwestern Oklahoma. Once the boll weevil was eradicated and the price of cotton increased, the crop again became prominent in the county where I was raised.

When I was a boy, I remember repeated plantings and listed ridges. If rain came when the tender plant was “in the crook,” it had to be planted again. It could not push through the crust formed by the rain. I remember chopping the weeds out of the rows during those days before pre-emergent existed. I remember watching daddy mix ground grain, molasses, and poison in a number 3 wash tub. While he drove slowly around the edge of the field, I used a board to toss the bait out for the grasshoppers.

When my daddy stripped the cotton, I sometimes rode in the chicken-wire sided trailer and stomped down the cotton. Green boles fell near the front of the trailer and made good ammunition to toss at my cousins, who were riding in other trailers in the same field. Cotton stalks always made walking through a harvested field challenging.

Annually, our family attended the “Gin Supper.” The coop gathered all the farmers and their families together and fed us a meal catered by Underwood’s Barbecue in Altus. Each of us had pencils at our spots. I used mine to sketch pictures on the paper that covered the long line of tables where we sat. During the evening’s program, door prizes were given from time to time. I never won, but I always watched my ticket as the numbers were read off. Cotton was a big part of life on the farm while I was growing up.

When my daddy was a young man, before he married my mom, one Fall he earned enough money to buy a new car by picking cotton. He was able to do so because he remained on task and worked very hard. He succeeded in life by continuing the same M.O. So can you.

“Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread, but he who follows worthless pursuits lacks sense.”

Proverbs 12:11, Earl  

FBC Happenings

  • Sundays Sermon “Doing Our Duty” Luke 17:7-10
  • Family Worship and LifeGroups, Sundays at 9:00 a.m. and 10:30 a.m.
  • FIRST KIDZ – Wednesdays from 6:30 p.m. – 7:30 p.m. for Bed Babies – 6th grade
  • The Gathering – Wednesdays at 6:30 p.m. in the Sanctuary; live streamed on Facebook at 6:30 p.m., also available on the website at: http://www.fbcweatherford.com by noon on Thursday
  • Daylight Saving Time Ends this Sunday, November 1…Remember to turn your clocks back one hour on Saturday evening
  • Feel free to continue and watch the FBC Sunday Morning Worship Services live streamed on Facebook at 9:00 a.m., also available on the website at: http://www.fbcweatherford.com at 11:00 a.m., or listen at noon on 95.5 FM The Coyote

New Members

Michael & Renee Gunsaulis and John Hilliard

2 thoughts on ““Cotton Pickin’ Memories””

  1. Thank you for sharing memories of the good ole days in the cotton patch. Do you mean I’ve been misspelling cotton “boll” and “boll” weevil all these years?!?! Ha
    Ray says it’s “bolle”. Guess I’ll ask Siri !


  2. Your article in this week’s ‘post’ brought back memories from the summers that I would go to Casa Grande, Arizona and stay with my sister and brother-in-law for for a month or more and and they would take me back to Weatherford. I remember having to get up about 4:30 or five to start the irrigation pumps and get the water flowing down those rows; then we would go back to the house for breakfast and take a nap and rest until around 3:00pm and then back to get the pumps started again and we would go back to their house for supper and sleep. Keep up the good work, God bless your efforts from Kiowa county to Custer County.

    Sent from my iPad



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