I first photographed this house in 2001 and it was still standing in 2015. I haven’t driven past it in a few years and am not sure if it survives. Typical of many tenant houses, it was of board-and-batten construction and had a small shed room at the back. These small utilitarian spaces were often associated with farming and/or turpentining and supported large families in many cases. It’s hard to imagine what life must have been like in such a small space without any of the modern conveniences.
This is one of my favorite Irwinville Farms barns. I don’t think all of the barns and houses were originally painted white, but in images from the project in the Library of Congress, many were. This may be one of just a couple that are still painted. These tobacco barns were built so well that there are still a few around today, nearly 90 years later. That’s amazing considering they were built to be used and they were given a lot of wear and tear in the labor intensive culture of tobacco harvesting.
This storefront has been associated with Irwinville Peanut & Grain for many years, but it was built in 1938 as the retail store for the Irwinville Cooperative Association, an offshoot of the Irwinville Farms Project. It has been modified over time.
In her book Irwinville Farms Project: The Making of a Community (Yawn’s Publishing, Canton, Georgia, 2012), Joy Wilson McDaniel notes that the store cost $8,747 to build, and along with the Cooperative Office, “just about completed the construction work on the town of Irwinville...” [in regards to the Irwinville Farms Project].
This stock and hay barn stands on a property which still includes an Irwinville Farms house. These amazing utilitarian structures were built for about $200 during the Great Depression as part of an economic rescue program designed to bring farmers out of the devastating downturn which began in 1919 with the proliferation of the boll weevil and continued until the start of World War II. A few of these barns remain today, in varying states of repair, but all should be considered of historical importance.
I’ve discussed Irwinville Farms extensively in the past and will be updating some sites I’ve already visited, as well as adding other examples from my archive.
I initially couldn’t determine if this structure was residential or if it was even original to this location. I was first inclined to call it a central hallway cottage or tenant house, and Clint Dowdy writes that it was indeed a residence and that his great uncle lived here. I didn’t see a chimney but Clint writes that it was at the rear of the structure. It’s a neat form.
As I’ve discussed extensively over the years, the Irwinville Farms Project was one of numerous resettlement communities overseen during the Great Depression by the Farm Security Administration and the Resettlement Administration, as a means of helping rural communities much in need of outside assistance. Even though they are highly endangered, the structures related to this project are still well represented in the Irwinville area and are an invaluable resource that deserve documentation. The barns were all originally painted white but have faded in the nearly 90 years since they were built. They cost less than $200 to build and were considered very efficient. A testament to their quality is the fact that so many are still standing.
R. B. Tucker, Sr., graduated second in his class at the Bear Automotive School in Rock Island, Illinois, and owned and operated this franchise in Ocilla for many years. Bear was one of the first national automotive repair chains, and is still in existence, I believe.
Riding through Ocilla as a kid, those two yellow signs with the happy bears really got my attention.
I thought this beautiful sunset over a finished cotton field would be a good way to end the year. Happy New Year to everyone; be safe and be joyous.
One of my favorite things about riding dirt roads is encountering little swamps and wetlands. In fall and winter, they are at their most colorful.
This photograph was made in 2010. The house has been gone for many years. My friend Cindy Griffin and I called it the “voodoo house” after we found a creepy voodoo doll here.