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-   -   Comments on: cotton pickin (http://www.shreveport.com/forums/showthread.php?t=2441)

sbl_admin 08-21-2007 10:19 AM

Comments on: cotton pickin
 
Reader comments and feedback for the cotton pickin photo.
This image is part of the Historic Photos photo gallery

http://www.shreveport.com/forums/pho...661993b3_l.jpg


Isaac-Saxxon 08-21-2007 10:21 AM

That looks like some organic hand picked cotton. I bet it would be worth a whole bunch of money then and now. Crime rate was low and there was no crack rock either. A time it was :eek: it was a time.

LSU 08-21-2007 04:09 PM

i'm not going to even touch this one with a 10 foot mouse!

Texasbelle 08-21-2007 06:05 PM

You know there is something to be said for speaking the truth, right Isaac?

Isaac-Saxxon 08-21-2007 06:25 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Texasbelle (Post 19922)
You know there is something to be said for speaking the truth, right Isaac?

You know Texabelle you are so very right here. I agree with your post. LSU you have no Chutzpah ? They were the best of times and the worst of times.:eek:

salguodgrubmab 08-22-2007 12:27 PM

Hey Ike. Time it was it was a time... That old tune is still magical to me forty years on. I understood what poetry was after hearing it. So hauntingly beautiful. So melancholy yet so uplifting. Loss longing mortality acceptance all rolled into one verse. A doorway that leads into the unknown and on into the unknowable. Thanks

rhertz 08-22-2007 12:33 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by salguodgrubmab (Post 19973)
Hey Ike. Time it was it was a time... That old tune is still magical to me forty years on. I understood what poetry was after hearing it. So hauntingly beautiful. So melancholy yet so uplifting. Loss longing mortality acceptance all rolled into one verse. A doorway that leads into the unknown and on into the unknowable. Thanks

Can't find "Time it was it was a time".

http://search.music.yahoo.com/search...+it+was+a+time

Are you refering to "Bookends" Simon Garfunkel?

LateNight 08-22-2007 12:33 PM

are we talkin' about Bookends ?

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was
A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you

salguodgrubmab 08-22-2007 12:48 PM

Yeah, when I overhear young blacks carping about their huge sacks of woes and heavy crosses they must bear I just have to smile. No, young fella, I think to myself, those who came before you did. You have no complaint. Slavery is nothing more than ignorance and poverty. Your particular race doesn't have a monopoly on being victims of inhumanity. All those trying to eke out a living as a sharecropper in the rural south were slaves. My ancestors were dragged into the swamps of south louisiana to clear them. Negro slaves were far too valuable to risk dying in the swamp so they turned to a workforce with no value. The German and Irish immigrants. If they died of heat stroke or bitten by a cottonmouth or just worked to death it didn't matter for they were of no consequence.

salguodgrubmab 08-22-2007 12:56 PM

Roger S&G. Late, you and I musically are often, it seems, on the same page. It was probably about '65 or so S&G had a special. I guess Sullivan had that Sunday night off and an hour of S&G was on instead. It was amazing. I wish someone would drag it out of a vault.

rhertz 08-22-2007 01:22 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by salguodgrubmab (Post 19984)
Yeah, when I overhear young blacks carping about their huge sacks of woes and heavy crosses they must bear I just have to smile. No, young fella, I think to myself, those who came before you did. You have no complaint. Slavery is nothing more than ignorance and poverty. Your particular race doesn't have a monopoly on being victims of inhumanity. All those trying to eke out a living as a sharecropper in the rural south were slaves. My ancestors were dragged into the swamps of south louisiana to clear them. Negro slaves were far too valuable to risk dying in the swamp so they turned to a workforce with no value. The German and Irish immigrants. If they died of heat stroke or bitten by a cottonmouth or just worked to death it didn't matter for they were of no consequence.

Interesting post. Everyone living today is blessed in that we don't have Scarlet Fever, Polio, Small Pox, etc. to worry about... Many died of "consumption" too. I won't even mention the virtues of modern dentistry..... It's good to be alive in 2007!

Isaac-Saxxon 08-22-2007 01:28 PM

When times are good people are bad and when times are bad people are good just ask Moses :D

rhertz 08-22-2007 01:30 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by salguodgrubmab (Post 19986)
Roger S&G. Late, you and I musically are often, it seems, on the same page. It was probably about '65 or so S&G had a special. I guess Sullivan had that Sunday night off and an hour of S&G was on instead. It was amazing. I wish someone would drag it out of a vault.

http://www.last.fm/music/Simon+%2526...Bookends+Theme

salguodgrubmab 08-22-2007 01:59 PM

Amen! My Mom recently told me s story my grandmother told to her just prior to her death. It was 1917 in Southern Ark. My grandfather was away working on the Arlington in Hot Springs so he set them up in a little place pretty far away. My grandmother had three kids and knew nothing of the area and had yet to meet hardly anyone when they all contracted small-pox. The doctor gave them shots and quarantined them. He would leave medicine on the fencepost. The syringe he used wasn't sterile, my summation, and quickly infection spread through them all. She was unable to get out of bed and was telling God she was sorry that her children were going to die but there was nothing she could do. At that very moment a knock at the door. The door opened and a big, coal black colored lady stood there. My grandmother told her that they had the pox and she had to leave right now. "Don't you worry 'bout that none", she said smiling. "Colored folks don't takes the pox." She stayed there for a week straight and nursed and nurtured them all back from the brink of death. After a while she would leave at night and return in the morning as she only lived a a little ways down the road with her husband and a houseful of kids. My grandmother told her that she was in good enough shape to take care of things and that she no longer had to come over. When they were well enough they went down the road where this colored lady told Grandma she lived to visit. There was indeed a house there but it was just an old long abandoned shack. No signs anyone had lived there in years. She had just disappeared. Grandma said she was an angel named Myra. Oh yeah, my Mother's name is Myra. If I were a writer I'd write this novel.

Isaac-Saxxon 08-22-2007 02:12 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by salguodgrubmab (Post 20002)
Amen! My Mom recently told me s story my grandmother told to her just prior to her death. It was 1917 in Southern Ark. My grandfather was away working on the Arlington in Hot Springs so he set them up in a little place pretty far away. My grandmother had three kids and knew nothing of the area and had yet to meet hardly anyone when they all contracted small-pox. The doctor gave them shots and quarantined them. He would leave medicine on the fencepost. The syringe he used wasn't sterile, my summation, and quickly infection spread through them all. She was unable to get out of bed and was telling God she was sorry that her children were going to die but there was nothing she could do. At that very moment a knock at the door. The door opened and a big, coal black colored lady stood there. My grandmother told her that they had the pox and she had to leave right now. "Don't you worry 'bout that none", she said smiling. "Colored folks don't takes the pox." She stayed there for a week straight and nursed and nurtured them all back from the brink of death. After a while she would leave at night and return in the morning as she only lived a a little ways down the road with her husband and a houseful of kids. My grandmother told her that she was in good enough shape to take care of things and that she no longer had to come over. When they were well enough they went down the road where this colored lady told Grandma she lived to visit. There was indeed a house there but it was just an old long abandoned shack. No signs anyone had lived there in years. She had just disappeared. Grandma said she was an angel named Myra. Oh yeah, my Mother's name is Myra. If I were a writer I'd write this novel.

Sure sounds like a Heavenly servant come to help :pray:


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