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Barefoot In The Sand: Remembering the Waning Days of the Hopewell Community (1998) Bruce C. Gragg 6/123

have to go through the muddy slough to get to the water. The roadbed
had been built in the late thirties, and they were so slow about
paving it that several areas had big gullies washed out. It was
through one of these gullies we were able to drive right to rivers
edge. A good swim was always a special treat when we had worked hard
and needed a good cool refreshing pick-me up. We liked to go
swimming, either in the river or Bay Creek.

On many occasions, I will probably refer to the Suwannee River. This
sleepy little Southern River, immortalized in song by Stephen C.
Foster, is not much more than 150 miles long, if even that long. I am
very proud to have been raised near, this famous little river. It
drains a large portion of the big swamp and all its satellite
wetlands. There were so many areas to collect water, it usually took
a while for it to drain off. Around Fargo, Ga. the river is so narrow
in places the trees on each bank almost touch over midstream. During
dry time, often it is no more than a large creek. However, after a
very wet season, it can be a very dangerous river. The water is dark,
not so much from its depth, but from Tanning leached from the many
cypress trees and palmettos in the area. The water is the color of
strong iced tea. The tanning does not effect the flavor of coffee or
other drinks made with it, or if someone just dipped up a cup to
drink. While on fish fries, the river water was used to make the
coffee. I always thought river water coffee couldn't be beat for
taste. The shallow to moderate slope to the banks and the cypress and
tupelo trees in the shallow water made bream fishing very good,
especially during Spring bedding. Two people in a boat would drift
slowly close to the bank, and fish around the trees and stumps in
shallow water. The one in front of the boat did the fishing with a
short keen cane pole and light line, using wigglers and just a little
sinker, a small cork float and a small hook. The guy in the back did
the paddling or holding the boat speed down. First you fish one bank
for a distance up or down the river, then turn and fish the other
side to the point where you began. By now with good luck you will
have a good stringer of fish to cook right there on the rivers edge.
While one is cleaning the fish, the other is mixing up hushpuppy
batter, making coffee, cooking grits or what had been predetermined
as the menu. Of course if this was a family affair, the duties would
be spread around so all could have a hand in preparing the meal. To
get fish any fresher than this they would have to still be swimming.
The cooking would be better in a big deep iron skillet. The coffee
would be made with river water and a hand full of coffee dumped in
when the water began boiling. After it boils for a little while, then
allowed to set there and steeps for a few minutes, made a drink that
is very hard to top. The bream cooked in real hot oil, not scorching,
needed to cook only a short time. I can't think of a better way to
spend a portion of a late Spring

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