Out of Town

Pig On the Ridge - 2016

If you're from the South and have grandparents that lived in "the country", it's likely that you've heard of something called "campmeeting."  It's usually held during the late summer months when the heat of the sun starts to become bearable.  Hundreds of attendees would gather for worship under a central meeting place, a place that's surrounded with "tents" build with simple materials (wood, concrete blocks, etc.)

This is what Friday night at Pig on the Ridge feels like to me sans the worship experience.  Hundreds of people crowded into a small area outside, having fun and eating food. Besides the moment on the dance floor where a gentleman was rushed to the hospital, I've never had a bad time heading out here.  Due to the effects of the SC Flood of 2015, I didn't make it last year.   So glad I was able to get out there this year.

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 So here's the famous "drunk chicken" man.  People from miles away come just to get the scraps off of this grill.  Whole chickens with cans of Milwaukee Best Ice injected into their cavity sit upright on this charcoal-fired grill, flavoring the chickens with a unique taste that causes lines to form and block the main path to the remaining vendors.

Now, the chicken is awesome.  Crispy on the outside, moist on the inside, seasoned all the way through....I get it.

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A medical emergency happened while attendees were dancing in the street.  Thankfully there were qualified people at the event that was able to help the person who appeared to have issues breathing.  It was a dire moment.  The music stopped.  One lady sobbed uncontrollably.  People curiously ran toward the person, wondering what was going on.  CPR began and continued until the emergency vehicle arrived.

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They worked on him a little more, carried him away, a moment of silence was observed, and the festival continued.

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Portrait of a Farmer

I was so ready to get to the South Carolina Photo Expo that I left on Friday afternoon.  It didn't start until Saturday, but I knew some photographers would be in town and I did not want to miss the opportunity to commune with them.  Since I didn't really have an agenda I decided to take the long way.  And when I mean the long way, I mean it took me 4+ hours to get to Myrtle Beach from Columbia. As I was driving I decided to make a little challenge for myself. Here's what I posted.

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I don't know why I considered it goal number 6.  I didn't have a goal number 5, 4, or even 3!  Nevertheless, goal 6 was created.  Around that time I was near Highway 403 in Timmonsville, SC.   A LOT of the dilapidated buildings lined a street that seem to be once considered the "Main Street."  I passed a few people as I headed toward the outskirts of town.  It was here where I ran into Mr. Rush.  He was picking butter beans on the side of the road.

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I pulled to the side of the road, grabbed my camera, and got out of the truck.  Understanding that I was a stranger, I didn't want to scare him.  So, I spoke to him as I walked towards him.  We shook hands and began talking about the half a bushel of butter beans he'd already picked.  One other thing....he referred to the tin tub sitting near by as a "Number 3 tin."  I haven't heard that kind of talk in a long time.  Only people that have lived on the farm know what that stuff means.

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As we talked I began to think about people like Mr. Rush and my dad.  They both grew up on the farm.  They both kept the values and lessons they've learned on the farm.  They also have great spirits.  You can see it in their smile and hear it in their laughter.

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As we spoke I began to noticed how expressive he is with his hands.  That's when I noticed those worn-in planter/farmer hands.  So awesome.MrRush-105 MrRush-110 MrRush-113

We talked a little while longer and said our farewells.  As I was walking away I took a couple more pictures of him pulling the plants. MrRush-115 MrRush-116