I figure I need to refresh memories about where the name of this blog originated, so here goes.
My grandfather, Jim Minter Sr. who we called Pop, bought the 50 acres and the house where we now live and where the Inman Farm Heritage Days shows are held, in 1936.
He called it the Po’ Farm, in reference to the “poor farms” that were prevalent in those Depression days. Fayette County’s government-supported poor farm, where people way down on their luck went to live, was out on McDonough Road.
My grandparents and my dad didn’t have to go to the poor farm, but my grandfather’s family did lose between 800 and 1,000 acres due to the financial ruin brought about by the boll weevil, the Depression, the untimely death of his father, and several other setbacks not of his doing.
Pop’s nickname for this place shows that his sense of humor survived the hard times.
I should know the whole history of this place, but I don’t. Some day, I’ll research it further.
A distant relative and renowned historian Joseph Henry Hightower Moore, estimates that the original part of this house was built around 1850, making it one of the oldest homes in Fayette County.
I’m told it was first occupied by the brother of one of two Inman residents named Daniel McLucas. Daniel lived in a large two-story house just east of our place. It burned when I was a teenager.
The Minter’s family home, present day.
The original part of our house is built with “cut nails” which have flat sides. The rear part was constructed with modern round-headed nails and was likely built sometime before 1900. We added the bedroom and bathroom on the west side of the house in the 1980s.
I had a visit years ago from a man named Askew McLucas, who lived here with his parents and seven siblings when the calendar rolled over from the 1800s to the 1900s.
He said his dad planted the pomegranate bush that is still hanging on in the backyard.
My grandparents bought this place for $500 from a man named C.E. Armour. In the 1940s, they bought the white frame house just off Highway 92 in “downtown” Inman. It’s now my brother Rob’s place. Calvin Hand, who worked with my grandfather on the farm, moved in here with his family.
When Rob and I were young, this house was my grandparents’ weekend place. It had no indoor plumbing and only enough electricity to power a few light bulbs and wall sockets.
Still, a weekend here was something to look forward to – meals cooked on a wood stove, evening visits around the fireplace, cutting watermelons on the back porch, roaming the nearby fields and woods and other simple pleasures. I can still see Pop Minter on the back porch making the initial cut on a watermelon with his small pocket knife then using a string to finish slicing the melon into smaller pieces.
After I finished school, my parent and I set about to spruce up the house and turn it into a rental. But the memories of the good times back in the day were so strong I wound up moving in myself.
When Joanne and I got married, she and our older daughter Tammy joined me here and that’s when I found out there was a fourth resident.
Joanne began to see an image of a small girl wearing a white gown. I didn’t put much stock into her “ghost” sightings until she said the young girl came and went through the wall in the living room. Joanne had no way of knowing that years ago there was a door in that very spot.
One day, Joanne was wiping the kitchen counter and saw the name “Gabriella” appear on the counter, or so she said.
I put more stock into Joanne’s story when Stephanie was small and I saw her come out of her room and go around the corner into the bathroom one night. When she didn’t come out after a reasonable time Joanne went to check on her. She had never left her bed.
Like the George Bailey family home in the “It’s A Wonderful Life” movie, the Po Farm house is old, cold in the winter and lacking many modern features. But it has served us well, and provided my family and me with countless cherished memories.