Money Was Scarce and A Log Rolling

Following are excerpts from stories written by my Great-Grandmother, Annie Biggs Adcock as they were written to her daughter Clara.  They were compiled in a book entitled No More The Wild Country by my cousin John R. Coles.   He graciously gave me permission to use these in hopes that future generations of our family will know a little bit of our history. 

These are Annie's Parents- My Great-Great Grandparents

Money was Scarce  

"When we moved to Sycamore Creek, I could read and write, as I had put one year up at Old Mt. Pleasant School.   Here I learned very fast and finished the eighth grade, was starting in the ninth when the Dillards asked me to teach their little girls.   Money was scarce so I took the job of teaching Ruth and Cleo Dillard for five dollars a week.   I bought myself some new clothes for I sure didn't have any."  

A Log Rolling 

"When I was a small girl at home with my parents, people raised mostly what we ate.  So, we didn't have enough cleared land.  Most of this land was loaded with big heavy timber, trees over three feet through in diameter.   These trees had to be got out of the way so the land would be cleared.   This was called "new ground."  

So, the men all worked together.   They would have a big log rolling.   Few people living now ever saw one.   I saw several when I was small.   We had a hill called Billy Goat Hill covered in big white oaks and black oaks.   My father threw a big log rolling.   About twenty-five neighbor men came with hand spikes. That meant a big dinner had to be cooked.  It took several neighbor women to help.   They would kill several chickens, made dumplins, had some old fashioned pies cooked, plenty of coffee and milk.  

The men would cut these big trees and saw them up with what they called cross-cut saws.   Hadn't thought of a chain saw.  They would take these hand spikes and drive them into the end of the logs and split them.   I have often thought of how much money they would have brought if we only had them now.  But, they was set fire to and burned-up so as to clear the ground.  It was not waste then, because there was no sale for them.  On the new ground, we grew tobacco and other things.   Then it was a pasture.  It grew up in wild blackberry vines.   We picked all we could use.   And people all around came and picked."