I guess most folks, as they get older, have a desire to find out
where they came from. That is, they want to know their
“roots.” In our family, my mother is the resident genealogist and it is from
her
extensive research that this branch of the Montgomery clan gets
its information about our ancestors. And on her side of the
family, you might say Momma’s roots are made of cedar – the
fact is, she was raised up in the hill country around Austin,
Texas, and was part of a family that made their living chopping
down cedar trees. That’s right, they were what most folks
called, “Red-neck cedar choppers.”
Back
in the old days, cedar choppers were not highly thought of. Some
considered them to be lazy or just plain trashy. Not true! Though
I’m sure some had a bad reputation, for the most part they were
good, hard-working people. “Some of the kindest people you’d
ever want to meet,” says Momma.
And as for lazy…well, have you ever taken a double-bladed ax and
spent a hot day in a cedar brake chopping trees and dodging
rattlesnakes? Lazy? I think not! Heck, most of us today would
probably just keel over with “Cedar Fever.” Momma says that
she never heard of Cedar Fever back then, I guess they didn’t
have anyone around to tell them they were supposed to get it. My
grandma’s maiden name was Fannie Ringstaff, and her family was
in the cedar chopping business. Working in the hills west of
Austin, these hard-working people made their living off the land.
And it was a tough way to live. They went to work early and stayed
late while trying to support their kids off meager earnings.
The Ringstaffs and their fellow choppers spent most of their time
in the area know today as Westlake Hills. Those familiar with this
scenic part of Austin probably have no idea that these beautiful
hills once were the domain of a people who worked extremely hard
from dawn till dusk – and entertained themselves at the end of
the week with a night of dancing to traditional fiddle and guitar
music – drinking beer and moonshine, while picnicking on the
banks of Bull Creek.
Heck, I can still remember swimming in Bull Creek when I was a kid
back in the 1950s – the water was clear, unpolluted, and you
could see fish with the naked eye. But, over the years, Bull Creek
has been turned into a contaminated stream – the old cedar
choppers would probably shed a tear if they saw the place today. Cutting wood for a living was all they knew and they did it to survive. Many of them were virtually uneducated and
they got by on the
strength of their physical labor – and not much else. They
scratched out a living from the land, as their ancestors had
always done, while striving to make ends meet. Most of the cedar
was sold as posts for fence building, while part of it was turned
into charcoal. Many of the families would travel into Austin and
trade the charcoal for food supplies. The
early cedar choppers didn’t really maintain a home – many
lived out of a wagon, sleeping in tents and traveling from one
cedar brake to another as they looked for fresh trees. Living off
the land, they hunted their meat, with most of the prey being
deer, squirrel, and rabbit. These folks were proud and independent
– they might have a fist fight over nothing on a Saturday night
and be friends again when they attended church on Sunday morning. My
ancestors, the Ringstaffs, chopped cedar until the years caught up
with them. My great grandparents, Richard and Margaret, followed
in the footsteps of their family with the same strength and
traditions. Richard (Grandpa Dick) was a fiddle player and would
play at the dances on Saturday night, but Sunday’s were sacred
to him – he’d put the fiddle down and refuse to play past
midnight on Saturday. I’m
proud of the “wood-chopping” side of my family tree – those
folks lived a hard life and did the best they could under the
circumstances. They had their pride and didn’t ask for handouts
– many of them sent their sons off to war – some died serving
their country, while others returned to the hills with
distinguished military records. That’s
good enough for me.
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