Emily Dyer, 6, of Aiken, tries her hand at plowing as Larry Kronman of Cottageville, S.C., makes sure his mule Jake obeys Emily's commands. Emily was visiting the third annual Old Time Horse Farmers Gathering on Friday in Blackville. RON COCKERILLE/STAFF

Plowing through time

Web posted September 26, 1998

By Chasiti Kirkland
South Carolina Bureau

BLACKVILLE, S.C. -- Kathy Williams is a long way from her corporate high-rise in Blackshear, Ga.

No Italian leather dress pumps or Armani heels. Just a pair of dusty old overalls, a straw hat and a team of half Belgian, half Percheron draft horses named Barney and Belle.

Mrs. Williams, who was recently married, was part of the Old Time Horse Farmers Gathering held Friday at Clemson University's Edisto Research and Education Center. The event is the only one of its kind in South Carolina. Some upstate locations hold plow days, but the old-time demonstrations -- sheep shearing, wool spinning and butter churning -- are rare in the South.

On Friday the clock turned back a century to a time when farmers produced 100 bushels of corn using a two-bottom gang plow, disk, peg-tooth harrow and a two-row planter. Mules and draft horses were the real horse power, not diesel engines and crew-cab tractors equipped with air conditioners and AM/FM radios. Milk was squeezed by hand from a cow and Mason jars were used for home canning.

If it were a normal day, Mrs. Williams, a child psychologist, would be in a plush office, plucking a child's psyche. On this day, though, in turned-back time, the south Georgian guides a team of draft horses more than 10 times her weight. City slickers who've never seen the likes of such a beast, except on Budweiser commercials, stand in awe.

Seven-year-old Ashleyleigh Topping of Charleston, S.C., holds onto cotton she has just picked while visiting the Old Time Horse Farmers Gathering. RON COCKERILLE/STAFF

It's a real eye-opener for those who think vegetables and beef grow only in the aisles of the local supermarket.

``If we didn't come to these events people would forget from whence they came,'' said Mrs. Williams.

She doesn't forget. She reverts. Her mannerisms and way of speaking change. She is country. So is her husband, Harold, who welcomes, if only for a day, the slow pace that is so different from his stressed existence back in the city, where he works with computers.

The Williamses, like many other small-time farmers, participate in at least a dozen gatherings a year. Most of them were raised by ``God-fearin''' parents who lived off the land, got a college degree, moved to the big city and later since returned to their humble beginnings.

``There's just something about coming in from plowing with mules, your body achin' and going out in the watermelon patch, busting the thing and letting juice drip all down your arms,'' Mrs. Williams said. ``There ain't a greater feeling in the world. And I do all these things -- plowing, canning, snapping beans -- to purely aggravate my daughter. Children need to know their roots and what put food on their parents' table.''

She is one of a growing number of women who operate farms in the United States. At last count, 145,000 farms were run by women. Mrs. Williams stumbled onto it by accident. She and her husband were engaged at a horse sale, and he gave her a choice -- a mule or a diamond.

``I chose the mule,'' she said.

In the distance, 5-year-old Jessica Rohr, her red hair glistening in the sun, stoops to pick several bolls of cotton. She is not yet old enough to read about the days of farm hands, outhouses or studying by the light of a kerosene lamp.

But it seems fun and at day's end was educational. She learned that cotton made her socks, her T-shirt and her blue jeans. And Malcolm Scott broadened his vocabulary. Steve Montgomery, of Reynolds, Ga., taught him what ``come up,'' ``gee'' and ``haw'' meant as he plowed a dusty corn field with Pat and Pam.

``It's much easier to do it with a tractor,'' said Malcolm, as he emptied sand from his shoes.

The Horse Farmers' Gathering continues today from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. It began as a fledgling idea on the private farm of Cindy and Tommy Flowers, who work a small farm near Blackville with five draft horses. School children came out in droves for demonstrations and hayrides and the realization hit the Flowers' dead in the face: ``Many young people and adults don't understand where food and fiber come from and fail to appreciate that human existence really depends on agriculture,'' Mrs. Flowers said.

The event grew so large that the Flowers family could no longer hold it on their farm.

Admission is $3 for adults and $1 for students. Children under 4 are admitted free. Proceeds from the event benefit the Agricultural Heritage Center.