"Aunt Jemima" is now "Pearl Milling Company" (ummm, what?)

[Blue_true]

24. When I was a really young child, my dad would go to a syrup shack.

The shack wasn’t much, just a tin roof held up by some small tree members that had been cut at the same length. Even though the Civil Rights act had been passed, the only grocery store that would (and had been before the Act was passed) serve Black people was the A&P. My parents often got things like fresh vegetables and cured meat from the Black farmers that produced the items, that was cheaper for a poor Black family and it supported Black farmers that made the stuff.

The inside of the syrup shack wasn’t much, a cauldron that was fired directly by oak wood, a grinder that grinder the juice out of the sugar cane, a funneled piece of that looked like tin or zinc that funneled the juice into a trough that dumped in the cauldron. A mule walked around in circles, powering the cane grinder. The ancient old man that owned the syrup shack would pat the mule when it was time to grind more cane and stop it once enough juice had gone into the cauldron, the mule then rested, ate and drank water. There was a large stack of fresh sugarcane on the old man’s truck, which was always parked at the back of the sugar shack. The syrup was excellent, the shack was right off the biggest highway in town, so lots of people would stop by and buy a gallon of the inexpensive but good syrup, Blacks and Whites (one of the only places where I actually met White kids my age whenever my dad stopped there).

Your post brought back a fond childhood memory. It is amazing how people made stuff then. It was simple, but for some reason, nothing needed preservatives, mostly because it was local and locals used it up right away.