Life in a Southern Cotton Mill Town
It was powered by steam and its mournful sound could be heard for what seemed
like miles in all directions. The whistle at Siluria Mills would blow loud each
morning at 4:30 a.m. to wake up the employees on the first shift. It would sound
a call to work at 5:45 a.m. and then blow at 6:00 a.m. sharp to start work. The
whistle blew at 1:45 p.m. for the second shift's call to work and promptly at
2:00 p.m. to start the shift. The third shift was summoned at 9:45 p.m. and the
10:00 p.m. blast indicated that work should begin. That rhythmic cycle started
all over the next morning. It was a Monday through Friday ritual and the sound
of the whistle was the heartbeat of that little town.
The 1950's were a wonderful time to be a kid in rural Alabama. Siluria was a
small cotton mill town (we called it the mill village) about 20 miles or so
south of Birmingham. We were poor but so was most everyone else so we really
didn't know any better. The company owned the houses and the employees rented
them. The more important your job the nicer the house you could rent. Most all
the executives lived in the large and well-kept homes on Main Street. Some of
the folks who had the lowest paying jobs (not that any of them paid much) lived
down by Buck Creek in an area called Green Top. Most of those houses still had
outdoor facilities (outhouses). Looking back now I guess my family was somewhere
in the middle, between "dirt" poor and just "sort of" poor. The company also
provided a doctor for its employees. Appointments were not available so it was
first come first serve. As a result, all the sick people would try to get there
at 8:00 a.m. when the doors opened. As you might imagine, huge crowds arrived at
the same time during the cold and flu season. I can still remember waiting for
hours with my Mother to see the doctor.
The company also owned a small grocery store for its workers. However, most
of the stores were a mile up the road in the little town of
Alabaster. Alabaster is located on U. S. Highway 31 that in the
1950's was the main route from Birmingham and points north down to Montgomery
and Mobile connecting travelers with the Gulf Coast of Alabama, Florida and
Mississippi. As a result, stores sprung up where the traffic was.
My parents worked in the mill on the first shift and many times, weather
permitting, would walk to work as did many people who lived in the mill village.
Even though we didn't have much in the way of material things, we had plenty to
eat (Daddy always had a garden) and we had clean clothes to wear. My folks got
up with the 4:30 whistle and Mother would cook breakfast every morning complete
with "made from scratch" biscuits and my sister and I would get up, eat and go
back to bed until it was time to get ready for school. Even after all these
years breakfast is still my favorite meal.
Cast of Characters
Many people in the mill village had a nickname. We had folks like Wormy,
Meatball, Eagle-eye, Puncher, Tangle-eye, Nub, Bub, WOP (and it was never an
ethnic slur) Coot, Pebo and of course several Bubba's. In fact, the folks who
worked in the mill were referred to as "lint heads" because of the cotton lint
that collected in their hair. As I remember, no one seemed to be bothered by
that term as it was in a time before we became the United States of the
Offended. Today, my friends and I laugh about the fact the mill village was
nothing more than a ghetto, we just didn't know what to call it way back then.
It was a tough place and as a kid you had to be "street smart" to avoid trouble.
My two best friends, Howard Moore and my cousin, Pete Atkisson and I, for
reasons unknown could move freely around the mill village without getting picked
on. To this day, we still cannot figure out why the bullies never bothered us
much but I am so glad they didn't.
Recreation
The mill village had a movie theater where a kid could get lost for a couple of
hours on Saturday mornings watching news reels, cartoons, war movies and your
favorite cowboy. The greatest thing about the theater was that its air was
"conditioned" in a time when none, if any, houses had air conditioning. For
those of you who don't know, summers can be brutally hot in the Deep South. We
also had a recreation center that we called the "Y", complete with pool tables,
ping pong tables and a swimming pool. However, the pool had too many rules so
most of us kids preferred swimming in the creek or one of the many limestone
rock quarries that dotted the area. The thing I remember about swimming in Buck
Creek is that on certain days the mill discharged the dye it used in dying cloth
directly into the creek (this was long before the EPA) and some days our
"swimming hole" would be green, orange or black, just to name a few of the many
colors that would flow into the creek. Light blue was our favorite as it
reminded us of the ocean. Needless to say we had a variety of different hair
colors during the summer months.
I still remember the supervised boxing matches for the kids. They took place
under the giant Oaks and Elm trees in the park across the street from the “Y”.
The neat thing about it was we got to use real boxing gloves. My friends and I
got our bell's rung on many occasions in that boxing ring. A good old bloody
nose was sported around like a badge of courage. My friend Howard and I still
laugh about the time he got in the ring with Bobby Baldwin. Bobby was so fast
that he hit Howard at least four times in the mouth before he could even get his
glove up. That bout was over in a flash!
A Simpler, safer time
It was a time when kids could leave in the morning on their bikes and play all
day without the fear of being abducted. As long as you were home by the time you
were suppose to be everything was fine. We didn't have instant communications
via cell phone, pagers and text messaging devices but our parents could
generally find you if necessary.
Speaking of bikes, I remember that my friends, Howard, Pete and I, all three
could ride one bicycle (at the same time). With one person peddling, one sitting
sidesaddle on the bar and the third sitting on the handlebars, trying
desperately to keep their toes out of the spokes. I can only image what we must
have looked like peddling down that old dirt road to the creek. We rode this way
when two of our three bikes were out of commission either with a flat tire or a
broken chain.
In the summer people slept with their windows open and fans blowing
(remember, no air conditioning) and doors were rarely locked. People would stop
and give you a ride if you were walking, as everybody knew everybody else. Most
of the people who lived in the mill village were hard working, God fearing folks
and helpful neighbors. I remember Mr. and Mrs. Creamer lived across the street
from us and they had a telephone and we didn't. Mr. Creamer told my Daddy that
we were welcome to give out his phone number and if anyone called his house for
one of us he would send his son Johnny over to fetch us. I can still remember
that heavy old black rotary dial phone that sat on a little table in Mr.
Creamer's hallway. I think we finally got our own telephone in 1962 when I was
in the 10th grade. I believe that was the same year we also got a small air
conditioner unit that fit in the window of our den. Even though the unit only
cooled that one room, we all felt like we had finally arrived! A telephone and
air conditioning ... we were in high cotton and it was a wonderful time in my
life.
Changes Come to Town
Just as sure as that old mill whistle blew so did the winds of change. The
company sold its houses to its employees in 1965. In fact, my parents bought the
old house where my sister and I spent a good part of our childhood. The town of
Siluria, which was incorporated in 1954, merged with the adjacent City of
Alabaster in 1971. The town of Siluria was no more. But even today some of the
old timers still refer to the community as Siluria.
The cotton mill itself, which was founded by Mr. Thomas C. Thompson in 1896
and first incorporated in 1902, closed its doors for the final time in 1979. The
cotton mill still stands today, an old relic from a bygone era. The City of
Alabaster owns the buildings and property and has plans to tear down most of the
structure as it is in a bad state of repair. I think plans call for keeping the
office building and one other building along with the water tower for maybe a
museum highlighting its history.
Today
I have lived my entire life in this area and have witnessed many changes.
Alabaster is no longer a sleepy little country town but one of the fastest
growing areas not only in Alabama but also in the Southeast.
The high school where I graduated in 1964 is now huge. The school was named
Thompson in honor of the cotton mill's founder, who donated the land and a
considerable amount of his personal money to get it started. Incidentally, both
my sons also graduated from Thompson. They are grown now with families of their
own.
My sister Kathy and I never had to work in the cotton mill and that made our
folks very happy. As for my parents, Daddy passed away in 1972; Mother is now 88
years of age, still lives in Alabaster and is doing quite well.
As for me, I went to work with the telephone company in 1966 and attended
college on the company's tuition aid program. I retired after 30 years of
service with BellSouth Corporation. Today I am employed by an Alabaster based
company called SEPCO. The unique thing about my job is that my cousin, Pete
Atkisson, whom I mentioned earlier, has worked for SEPCO more than 40 years and
his desk sits to the right of mine just as it did 55 years ago when we started
first grade together.
Many of the old mill houses, including the one I grew up in, are long gone
now being lost to business development and road expansion. However, enough of
the old place still remains to bring back wonderful memories of my mill village
childhood more than half a century ago.