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Post by BuckSkin on Feb 25, 2022 9:36:47 GMT
April 2018 Streetview shows this building to be vacant, derelict, and with an old shingle roof. It shows the adjoining building to have a new metal roof and being renovated to be a martial arts academy. In this photo, this building has a new metal roof. The small sign by the new double-doors says it is a steakhouse; that would explain the big black bull. However, it appears that venture has failed and the place is once again abandoned, with a realtors banner in the window. My speculation is that the ongoing Corona Virus pandemic shuttered the place before they had a chance to fire up the grille. I bet that bull could be bought cheap. In the corner on the South side of the street in the foreground is the historic Simon Kenton Tobacco Warehouse; I wish I had gotten photos of it while it is still there. Although this is not a very large tobacco warehouse as tobacco warehouses go, for most of the 20th century, Maysville was home to one of the largest tobacco auction warehouses in the world. Northbound KY Hwy 11Maysville, Kentucky Mason County Sunday_19-December-2021 38° 38' 11.90" North Latitude 83° 45' 14.35" West Longitude Elevation: 512' Photo Taken through the glass of a Moving Vehicle   |
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Post by cats4jan on Feb 25, 2022 11:36:41 GMT
… and all decked out for Christmas 😉 How about a bunch of them...  |
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Post by hmca on Feb 25, 2022 22:58:49 GMT
Janice, how fun that you have scrapbook pages of subjects that can be added to various member posts.
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Post by cats4jan on Feb 27, 2022 3:56:41 GMT
Thanks Helen - I've been making scrapbook layouts for over 15 years. I seem to have something on every subject LOL
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WayneS
Established Forum Member
Posts: 476 
Open to constructive criticism of photos: Yes
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Post by WayneS on Mar 1, 2022 19:01:31 GMT
April 2018 Streetview shows this building to be vacant, derelict, and with an old shingle roof. It shows the adjoining building to have a new metal roof and being renovated to be a martial arts academy. In this photo, this building has a new metal roof. The small sign by the new double-doors says it is a steakhouse; that would explain the big black bull. However, it appears that venture has failed and the place is once again abandoned, with a realtors banner in the window. My speculation is that the ongoing Corona Virus pandemic shuttered the place before they had a chance to fire up the grille. I bet that bull could be bought cheap. In the corner on the South side of the street in the foreground is the historic Simon Kenton Tobacco Warehouse; I wish I had gotten photos of it while it is still there. Although this is not a very large tobacco warehouse as tobacco warehouses go, for most of the 20th century, Maysville was home to one of the largest tobacco auction warehouses in the world. Northbound KY Hwy 11Maysville, Kentucky Mason County Sunday_19-December-2021 38° 38' 11.90" North Latitude 83° 45' 14.35" West Longitude Elevation: 512' Ah yes, Maysville KY, back in 1975 I spent 6 weeks there, on a training course, and attended some tobacco auctions, don't remember if it was the above mentioned warehouse. Maysville's other claim to fame is that it is the birthplace of singer Rosemary Clooney! i.ibb.co/ZV92nqY/1975-Maysville-KY-Tobacco-Auction-8.jpg, i.ibb.co/dWKCDPH/1975-Maysville-KY-Tobacco-Auction-2.jpg, i.ibb.co/vc58zLK/1975-Maysville-KY-Tobacco-Auction-5.jpg |
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Post by BuckSkin on Mar 1, 2022 20:12:13 GMT
Ah yes, Maysville KY, back in 1975 I spent 6 weeks there, on a training course, and attended some tobacco auctions I am so thankful that you included these photos of how it used to be done back before baled tobacco took over. I had some of those "baskets" stenciled "Freeman's Tobacco Warehouses - Harrodsburg, Kentucky" ; alas, my crook brother made away with them. The reason I had the baskets was that, when they weighed our tobacco one year, we were over-weight by that much tobacco and they set those baskets of tobacco back on our truck. To those of you who don't know what a tobacco basket is, you can just see the edge of the basket the guy is kneeling in in the second photo; and, if you look closely underneath the stacks of tobacco, you can barely see the baskets; they are what holds the stack and allows it to be picked up with a fork-lift. After that, the next year, I can well remember my father holding sticks of tobacco and standing on the bathroom scales in an attempt to get an average weight per stick and then he only loaded enough sticks plus a few to achieve our allotted weight. The best thing to happen to children in Kentucky was when they done away with tobacco; before that, farmer's children were nothing more than field hand slaves. Back in those days, you could get your tobacco check in greenback cash before you left the pay-window; at least around here, church-going farmers would get the cash and throw a big drunk and lose the rest in a crooked card game before they got home with it; and, the poor wife and kids (and the people they owed) would have to do without Christmas another year. My father was no saint; but, at least he made it home with most of the tobacco money; a lot of them didn't. Again, thanks for posting those photos; they bring back memories. |
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WayneS
Established Forum Member
Posts: 476
Open to constructive criticism of photos: Yes
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Post by WayneS on Mar 2, 2022 2:23:18 GMT
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Post by BuckSkin on Mar 2, 2022 3:15:57 GMT
I am enclosing the rest of the pictures I took at the auction that day, hope they are of some value to your collection Many many thanks for these ! I wish I had started my passion for taking pictures many years before I did; there were so many things that were taken for granted that should have been documented and are now gone forever. Any idea who the horse is; Man-O-War maybe ? What part were you playing at the tobacco warehouse ? |
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WayneS
Established Forum Member
Posts: 476
Open to constructive criticism of photos: Yes
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Post by WayneS on Mar 2, 2022 4:12:27 GMT
I am enclosing the rest of the pictures I took at the auction that day, hope they are of some value to your collection Many many thanks for these ! I wish I had started my passion for taking pictures many years before I did; there were so many things that were taken for granted that should have been documented and are now gone forever. Any idea who the horse is; Man-O-War maybe ? What part were you playing at the tobacco warehouse ? I am seeing nine pictures and what appears to be a broken link to a tenth, between the eighth and ninth; are they all here or is there a tenth ? I believe it was a statue of Man-O-War, but can't guarantee, as it is close to 50 years ago, I was strictly a fascinated Canadian visitor, who had no idea what a tobacco auction even was!!! I was in Maysville, when I joined Browning Manufacturing, as a Sales and Technical Rep for Central Canada |
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Post by BuckSkin on Mar 2, 2022 5:12:59 GMT
I was strictly a fascinated Canadian visitor, who had no idea what a tobacco auction even was!!! And here's me thinking maybe you were a buyer for R.J.Reynolds or Philip Morris. I am sure glad you had the opportunity to attend a sale as that is a piece of America that everyone should have gotten to experience. Small farm families scratched and struggled all year, working towards those couple of seconds that would determine whether they had a Christmas and whether the business owners who had been carrying them all year would get paid. Back in the early days, the warehouses and cigarette companies mostly stole farmers tobacco, auctioning it off for less that it cost to sell it and then sending the farmer a bill for "floor expenses" instead of a check. |
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Post by BuckSkin on Jun 13, 2022 12:25:58 GMT
Buckskin, I am enclosing the rest of the pictures I took at the auction that day, hope they are of some value to your collection
Most definitely Yes; I have had a most enjoyable experience researching and learning about the statue and it's namesake, Man o' War.
I can actually feel my hands on the reins and my boots in the stirrups as the earth flies beneath us; it makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.Man o' War Statue
29-March-1917 – 01-November-1947
Lifetime Earnings: $249,465 ($4,828,982 in 2022)
A dollar today only buys 5.1% of what it could buy back then.
Man o' War did not run in the Kentucky Derby; however, he did win both the Preakness and Belmont Stakes.
Man o' War was the sire of Triple Crown winner War Admiral.
The statue was at Faraway Farm until 1977, when it was
relocated to Kentucky Horse Park.
I highly recommend reading THIS, THIS, THIS, and THIS.
Follow these coordinates to the Stallion Barn on Faraway Farm
38° 08' 38.54" North Parallel --- 84° 26' 23.89" West Meridian 923' American
Here are the digital equivalents if you prefer to work that way.
38.14404 Latitude -84.43997 Longitude 281.3304 meters
Faraway Farm
Huffman Mill Pike off Russell Cave Road
Lexington - Fayette County - Kentucky
Sometime in 1975 |
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Post by BuckSkin on Jun 15, 2022 12:32:13 GMT
Warehouse Tobacco Basket for Hand-tied Tobacco
The demise of the tobacco program shuttered an entire basket-making industry.
If it hadn't been for a table-full of people eating underneath, I would have gotten a shot of the edge that would have had the warehouse name stenciled on.
Home Place on Green River
2022_Spring Festival and Plow Day
Taylor County - Kentucky
Saturday_30-April-2022
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Post by BuckSkin on Jun 20, 2022 12:36:49 GMT
Photo by WayneS - Late Fall 1975 - Tobacco Warehouse - Maysville, Kentucky Handing the tobacco off the truck.
Most dirt-scratching Kentucky farmers had no building to park the loaded truck inside, out of the weather.
The tobacco had to be "in case"(damp and pliable, instead of dry and krinkly) for both the loading and unloading.
A damp foggy night with no rain was best; if it was dry and the wind a'blowin', you could forget it.
Dry tobacco would come all to pieces when handled; plus, dry tobacco would not "book down" on the truck.
On the other hand, you didn't want it too wet, else they would dock you both on weight and price.
Most would load the truck and tarp it the night before and then head out to the warehouse way before daylight the next morning.
No matter how destitute, everybody had a couple war surplus "Army" tarps; big, thick, oily, 20 x 30 affairs that smelled strongly of whatever carcinogenic substance the U.S.Government had treated them with; whatever it was, if a kid less than twelve got against one, big red whelts would appear and they would break out in a rash.
Although some had the convenience of living within ten or so miles of a warehouse, most had a three- or four-hour drive in a badly over-loaded weaving and wobbling truck with untrustworthy tires and one working headlight, and at least one side glass missing.
Most farmers never prepared very well for a trip, nor any other event for that matter; whatever was wrong with the truck last year was still wrong with it this year.
My nervous-wreck grandfather and three of his equally unworldly neighbors undertook to take a big load of tobacco to the warehouse in Lebanon, Kentucky; a feat not to be taken lightly in the best truck and they were equipped far less than that.
Old KY Hwy 55 between Columbia and Campbellsville was bad enough; crooked as a snake, barely one vehicle wide, and you had to descend the bad hill at Tebb's Bend and cross Green River on the narrow 1907 iron bridge.
But the journey on old 55 between Campbellsville and Lebanon was worse and definitely not for the faint at heart; you had to navigate the legendary "Mulders Hill" (Muldraugh Hill) and then cross the Rolling Fork River on yet another narrow iron bridge.(Now KY Hwy 289)
Them old men, as usual, were about three sheets in the wind, hollering a conversation with one another over the roar of the truck, the howling of the tires, and the wind coming through the missing glass.
When they disembarked, the little-bitty master-cylinder was about half-empty and none of those sharp knives thought to check it; it was half-empty when they parked it in the fencerow the year before; there is no reason to assume that it would have gained in the mean time.
At least one of the wheel-cylinders had dried out and developed a bit of a leak during the long unused period of rest; there were possibly a few rusted pinholes in the old metal brake lines as well.
Being of a nervous nature, no matter how much Stab-n-Kill they had consumed, whoever was driving would ride the brakes at the slightest provocation; and, with each application of the brakes, another squirt of DOT 3 would splatter the inside of the wheel rims or run down the inside of the frame.
All concerned had been dreading Mulders Hill ever since the trip was conceived; they had had knots in their bellies for weeks and recurring nightmares of coming over the hill out of control, missing the bridge, and crashing into Rolling Fork River.
It didn't help that just about all the loafers at Ed Logan Hadley's store on Sulphur Creek were telling stories about some acquaintance or other who had met with some terrible fate on Mulders Hill.
Fearful, dreadful, and worried as they might be, them old men were busy talking and let the hill sneak up on them.
Seasoned veteran truck-drivers that they were, they frantically tried to double-clutch and gear the big Clark 5-speed "Bulldog" transmission down; but, once in Neutral, all they could manage was to grind the teeth off the gears.
Frantic application of the brake pedal was met with an unresisted fall, plumb to the floor, and it stuck and stayed there; it may as well have, as no amount of fierce pumping is going to pressurize an empty system.
Someone grabbed the "emergency" brake handle and managed to snap the old rusty cable in two.
Them old men had no business driving a blind mule to a slide on flat ground, let alone a way overloaded ton-and-a-half International truck with no brakes on Mulders Hill.
The hill is so steep that things under the seat will slide and roll out under your feet, such as all of those Coke bottles worth three-cents apiece and that old Owlhead pocket-knife you lost seven years ago and gave up on ever seeing again.
Don't forget it is dark as the bottom of a mine and that one working headlight comes and goes according to the whims of the generator.
In the first hairpin, not the worst but the first,they started swapping end for end; one side and then the other coming five-feet off the ground, scattering tobacco all over.
After grandpa's head passed his hind-end for the fifth time, the back-end of the truck jammed into the shale rock bluff with the hind wheels spinning six feet above the ditch.
They clumb out and found much to their surprise that none of them was killed.
Other than the hind wheels being way off the ground, the old truck didn't appear to be in any worse shape than it was when they headed out.
Although they had all been holding a pretty tight hind-end, without exception, they had managed to evacuate themselves into their drawers; they say you will do that right before death, no matter who you are.
Their entire summer's wages and all of their Christmas money was scattered all over the hill.
Once it got light enough to see, it wasn't long before the road was full of good Samaritan's gathering up the scattered tobacco, putting it back on the scattered sticks; it wasn't the first load of tobacco they had seen scattered on Mulders Hill.
It took two big pair of mules to get the truck back on the road.
Somebody went to the crossroads store and got a pint can of DOT 3 brake fluid and restored the brakes to a somewhat mushy responsiveness.
With the tobacco once again loaded, one of the more nervy locals put her in Bulldog and navigated the truck to the bottom of the hill.
My grandpa and his associates rode over the hill in a Roadmaster Buick, the driver holding his head out the winder(window).
At the bottom of the hill, they retook possession of the truck, crossed the iron bridge over the Rolling Fork, and continued on to the tobacco warehouse.
Tobacco sold and big checks in hand, they stopped at Three Pines and oiled themselves up good for the return journey.
That ordeal ruirnt grandpa and he never was the same again.
When he got back home, his eyes were big as hoot owls for weeks and his nerves never did return, not that he had any to begin with.
Not long after that, grandpa got religion and joined the Whitecaps, made a big donation and became a deacon.
He didn't completely quit drinking and cussing, and he still lusted after other men's women; but, he never tempted his fate again and was never on Mulders Hill ever again.
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Post by jackscrap on Jun 21, 2022 6:49:00 GMT
Boy's own adventures on steroids!
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Post by BuckSkin on Jun 21, 2022 10:01:30 GMT
Boy's own adventures on steroids! I could not count the times I have heard my grandpa tell of his near-death experience on Mulders Hill. Question: Being of a similar distance from the Equator, my thinking is that, although in reverse, your climate should be very similar to ours; which got me to wondering, do they or did they ever grow tobacco in Australia ? |
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