Thomas Ard Sylvest
Written by a man who grew up in the poverty stricken hills of Louisiana during the 1930s depression, this is a book which will tempt you to ask whether it is real or fiction.
From cooking to recreation, from transportation to music, from schooling to simple every day duties, this book realistically shares the joys and pains, as well as the rewards and consequences of performing all those activities at a time when the words challenging and difficult definitely took on new meanings.
Discovering what had to be done in order to survive, without electricity, without antibiotics, without a family vehicle, without running water, and without cash, will almost shock you. If nothing more, you will develop an even greater attitude of gratitude regarding what we have and what is available to us today.
So honest and realistic is this sharing that this book would surely be a useful reference for a movie producer with a setting in that time and place. So informative is this book that a teacher recently remarked, “If you want your children to have a real genuine historical experience about life “in those olden days” and you don’t have a time machine, then this book should be required reading.”
In addition to sharing these remarkable memoirs, the author has added many inner self-revealing anecdotes, offering you as well, a powerful model on how to find the positives in many of life’s experiences.
You may have a hard time correctly pronouncing Natchitoches. You may not know what a “batten” is, or how to hitch a mule to a wagon. Farming may not be your thing. You may not like the taste of collard greens! But for sure, reading Collard Greens, will be an experience that your heart, mind, body, and soul will never forget.
A.. Dershak, B. A. Fourth grade teacher
Thomas Ard Sylvest was born in Provencal, Louisiana in Natchitoches Parish in 1925. At age 16 he finished high school. He graduated from Louisiana State University in Baton Rouge, Louisiana with a B.S. degree in Agricultural Economics. He presently resides in Gramercy, Louisiana.
Send email messages to the author at sylves_t@bellsouth.net
Managing Without Electricity
It is hard to picture the number of things that had to be done by hand when I was a kid because we had no electricity. Think how much longer it would take to do each of a hundred tasks. Consider that there were no switches to turn anything on or off. There was no light until someone struck a match. There was no heat until someone built a fire. There was no way to heat the family’s food or milk in a baby bottle without building a fire in the stove. Guess what? Minnie Fendlason Sylvest, my mother, nursed all of her thirteen children. And ten of us lived to be grown. Remarkably, there was a doctor present for each birth. Minnie’s grandfather was a doctor. Vince would graduate from Coyne Electrical Institute in Chicago, Artie would finish a two-year course at Normal, Dixie would graduate from Normal with a bachelor’s degree, Johnnie would become a registered nurse, Spurgeon would graduate from Louisiana Baptist Seminary in New Orleans, Frank would graduate from LSU, Pauline would become a registered nurse, Ard would graduate from LSU, Ruth would complete two years at Louisiana College, and Royce would get his master’s degree in sacred music from Louisiana Baptist Seminary. Our respect for the medical and health care professions is traditional.
Light was an interesting challenge. We had about six kerosene lamps, of which we kept about two in good working order at all times. You would call them “hurricane lamps” nowadays. Kerosene could be purchased at the grocery store. Almost every family had a galvanized one-gallon can with a spout and a screw-on lid to keep the kerosene from spilling. A gallon of kerosene cost us fifteen cents. That was the same amount we got for a dozen eggs. Most of the time we had no money, so we traded a dozen eggs for a gallon of kerosene. The closest store was six miles from our house. We had no motorized vehicle, so we had to hitch a ride to get to or from the store. There were very few vehicles on which to hitch a ride. During the school year I would take the empty gallon kerosene can on the school bus with me. I would carry a dozen eggs with me in an empty shortening or lard can. Shortening came in a half-gallon tin bucket. When recess time came, instead of playing like most of the other kids, I would get permission from the teacher to walk the two blocks from the school to the store with the eggs and the kerosene can. I would give the eggs to the storekeeper, and the storekeeper would pump the kerosene out of a tank into our can. Then I would take the can back to school with me and haul it home on the school bus. Try to imagine getting on a school bus in the twenty-first century with a gallon of kerosene.
A gallon of kerosene would last about two weeks in the wintertime when days have more hours of darkness. One of the processes of growing up was for a kid to learn to carry a kerosene lamp carefully without dropping it or breaking it, because it could easily set the house on fire. Can you imagine a ten year old carrying a kerosene lamp, ever so unsteadily, because his/her mom was so ill she could not get out of bed? That was one of the concerns of the parents of children in a home that had no electricity. During the months of the school year, there was the possibility that an adult could hitch a ride to town on the school bus and walk back home with the kerosene or other purchases.
