October 13, 2010 Edition

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A cotton pickin' day

When the fall of the year comes around, it usually reminds me of a time when cotton was harvested by hand. In the late '40s and early '50s, most of my fall days were spent picking cotton on a farm just off Highway 67, about three miles north of Walnut Ridge.

Each morning, shortly after sunup, we would gather up the necessities for another grueling day in the hot sun and head out to the cotton patch. These necessities included lunch, a couple gallon jugs of water, a straw hat with a green plastic visor, knee pads (if we had them), gloves and adhesive tape for our fingers.continued...