A classic late-19th century vernacular house, this example near Lands Crossing is yet another illustration of the expansion of the utilitarian central hallway form. A shed room was added at the rear of the structure and another wing was attached, perhaps a kitchen. I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t logs beneath the siding. The windows bordering the door are a bit unusual. One would expect to find full-length sidelights instead. I suspect this is a later modification, done for a practical reason. It’s one of the nicest and oldest examples of this house type in Irwin County.
Another barn from deep in the archives, this one was photographed in 2010. I believe it collapsed a few years later, but cannot confirm at this time. It was located somewhere off Five Bridge Road and was notably larger than other tobacco barns I’ve documented in Irwin County.
This shotgun style building originally served as a store, if I recall correctly, but has been the Mystic post office for many years. My father and I have bought stamps and sent mail from here on several occasions and it’s an experience in itself. It still has a tiny wood-paneled lobby with the old-fashioned mail boxes. And it’s only open for a couple of hours each day. Call me delusional, but I think it’s important for small communities to have services like this. Irwinville lost its post office a few years back and it’s still sorely missed.
This is the last of the Irwinville Farms locations I’ll be sharing for a while. I’m hoping to document more the next time I’m in the area. This one is located near Jeff Davis Park and is another good example of the quality construction of the Irwinville Farms project. I really wish all the surviving structures of the project could be added to the National Register of Historic Places, or at least recognized locally. The families that have maintained them for nearly 90 years obviously appreciate them and I am grateful for that.
The Fever Tree (Pinckneya pubens) has many names, often just known as Pinckneya, but is also called Fever Bark, Georgia Bark, Georgia Fever Tree, Florida Quinine, and Poinsettia Tree. It’s a small short-lived shrub-like tree that grows in wet areas on the edges of swamps and is easily recognized by its pink poinsettia-like blooms. I found this one on Ten Mile Road near Coleman’s Pond.
Numerous sources state that Pinckneya bark was used by indigenous people for the treatment of fevers, hence the name fever tree. Until the proliferation of modern medicines in the mid-20th century, it was widely collected for its bitter bark, which has quinine-like qualities, and was used as an immunization against malaria and various fevers. Over time, wild stocks were reduced by collecting but I believe it has recovered somewhat. It’s still a bit difficult to find unless you know where to look.
Eastern Fox Squirrels (Sciurus niger) are the largest species of tree squirrel in North America and occur throughout much of the Eastern United States. By sight, they look about two to three times the size of the much more abundant Eastern Gray Squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis). I know some places where they’re almost sure to be seen from time to time, but overall, their habitat seems to be decreasing. In my experience, they’re most abundant in piney woods and sand ridges. Fox squirrels have numerous color variations, some of which have been grouped into subspecies. The nearly solid black ones are some of my favorites but I rarely see those.
I believe this one is known as a Sherman’s Fox Squirrel(Sciurus niger shermani). They’re quite energetic so I was lucky to get this shot. It was photographed in the vicinity of Big Creek Church Road. Endemic to northern Florida and southern Georgia, Sherman’s Fox Squirrels can weigh up to three pounds and are characterized by a black head and a white nose and ears, with other variations in coat and tail colors, including black, silver, and tan. The Florida State Parks department notes: “…much of the squirrel’s habitat has been lost to development and deforestation. Because of this, the squirrels are protected throughout Florida with law prohibiting the hunting and capturing of these creatures.” I’m not sure if this is the case in Georgia and found no prohibition on hunting them here.
This is located near the Riverbend community, and I’ve stopped many times over the years to photograph it. The “striped’ roof always catches my eye. With so many photographs, I don’t know why I’ve never published it, but I’m finding quite a few Irwin County images as I re-edit posts, and perhaps it got overlooked. I believe Diana Griffin identified it for me on social media years ago, but since I’m not on those spaces much anymore, I don’t have access to that information. It is a double-pen house, indicated by the two front doors, and in that respect a relatively rare form. Double-pen houses are most often associated with tenancy, but not always. A shed room at the rear of the house is also visible, which was a common amendment to these types of structures.
I wish the quality of these images were better, but this is a heavily shaded location and I had to settle for what I could get. These photographs date to 2012 so I’m not certain this house is still extant. But what a great house it is, a textbook example of the workhorse of the tenant farm era, the single-pen cottage. This one had a chimney that would have cost more than the house, undoubtedly. It served its purpose of shelter and warmth, but gave little comfort otherwise. Houses of this type were often built in rows, on a larger farm, reminiscent of the arrangement of slave dwellings on earlier plantations. Of course, a small farmer may have only had one or two such houses on his property. I know nothing about this one, except that I think it was worth documenting.
I photographed this little house numerous times over the years and it finally collapsed in 2018. There was a large shed room that ran across the back side and continued into a small wing, visible behind the tree at right, but it was essentially a classic example of the hall and parlor style often associated with tenant housing. I like to imagine it in its younger days, when someone took care of it and called it home.
