“Syrup house” or “shed” is a familiar term for my generation but today most don’t recall memories of all the things that went into making syrup from sugar cane. It was a necessary job for many South Georgia farms. The event often was used not only to make that sweet syrup but served a social purpose. In fall when the other crops were finished, and the weather began to cool, it was common for a farmer who grew his own sugar cane to invite his neighbors over to participate in the process and if they didn’t help, they were welcome to drop by and chat and catch up on the local gossip and happenings. When the green cane was cut in the field and loaded on wagons or trucks and brought to the cane mill, the process took up all day and into the night. The stalks were cleaned of leaves and run through a metal cane mill which squeezed the sticky sweet juice out into containers that were then dumped into a large iron kettle, maybe as much as eighty gallons were poured into the kettle. The Kettle rested on a brick furnace foundation. A large fire was built, and the cooking started. Cane juice is mostly water, and the object was to cook off the excess water leaving the dense syrup to be bottled. Many stood around the mill and furnace kettle enjoying the fellowship provided by such an event. Rural folk didn’t have many opportunities for recreation other than hunting and fishing and boiling peanuts. From time to time, a participate in the event used a community tin cup that was hung on the mill to sample the raw juice. Fighting off yellow jackets and other insects that are attracted to the juice, a sip or two of the sweet raw stuff was sampled. Parents cautioned their kids, “Don’t drink too much or you will have to make repeated trips to the outhouse.” The process of cooking the raw juice sent sweet smells into the surrounding environment and left a memory of the event deeply seated in a young person’s mind. The cooking and straining took time and needed an experienced syrup maker to determine when the elixir had finally reached the stage when it was ready to be bottled. There is nothing better than a homemade biscuit or slice of cornbread to sop-up that golden treat. My classmate and friend Jimmy Ryles of Hazlehurst in Jeff Davis County does not have to rely on memories like I do. He still grows the cane and makes the syrup.
“Syrup house” or “shed” is a familiar term for my generation but today most don’t recall memories of all the things that went into making syrup from sugar cane. It was a necessary job for many South Georgia farms. The event often was used not only to make that sweet syrup but served a social purpose. In fall when the other crops were finished, and the weather began to cool, it was common for a farmer who grew his own sugar cane to invite his neighbors over to participate in the process and if they didn’t help, they were welcome to drop by and chat and catch up on the local gossip and happenings. When the green cane was cut in the field and loaded on wagons or trucks and brought to the cane mill, the process took up all day and into the night. The stalks were cleaned of leaves and run through a metal cane mill which squeezed the sticky sweet juice out into containers that were then dumped into a large iron kettle, maybe as much as eighty gallons were poured into the kettle. The Kettle rested on a brick furnace foundation. A large fire was built, and the cooking started. Cane juice is mostly water, and the object was to cook off the excess water leaving the dense syrup to be bottled. Many stood around the mill and furnace kettle enjoying the fellowship provided by such an event. Rural folk didn’t have many opportunities for recreation other than hunting and fishing and boiling peanuts. From time to time, a participate in the event used a community tin cup that was hung on the mill to sample the raw juice. Fighting off yellow jackets and other insects that are attracted to the juice, a sip or two of the sweet raw stuff was sampled. Parents cautioned their kids, “Don’t drink too much or you will have to make repeated trips to the outhouse.” The process of cooking the raw juice sent sweet smells into the surrounding environment and left a memory of the event deeply seated in a young person’s mind. The cooking and straining took time and needed an experienced syrup maker to determine when the elixir had finally reached the stage when it was ready to be bottled. There is nothing better than a homemade biscuit or slice of cornbread to sop-up that golden treat. My classmate and friend Jimmy Ryles of Hazlehurst in Jeff Davis County does not have to rely on memories like I do. He still grows the cane and makes the syrup.