Son of Nathan Emanuel Marion and Fannie Marlowe Tindal, husband of Martha Wallace.
Brother of:
Elizabeth Tindal Goude Woodbury
James M. Tindall
Seaney Tindal Goude
Samuel B. Tindal
Half brother of:
William Walter Tindall
George Nesbit Tindall
BRITTON'S NECK MAN, 90, RECALLS 'OLD DAYS' IN MARION COUNTY
CENTENARY - "I'm a little tired," said 90 year old Emanuel Tindal as he sat on the porch of his farm home located below Brittons Neck. "I've been working pretty hard, you see, in tobacco. But being an obligin' fellow, I'll try to tell you how it was in the old days and hereabouts."
Tindal is tall and thin and his skin has weathered to the color of brown parchment, but his memory is an excellent thing and he hears well and his eyes are good enough - with the help of glasses - to enable him to read a daily newspaper. He expressed a conviction that "that Powers feller, who the Russians hold, will not be shot. Mr. Ike, he told the Russians, 'you dare not shoot this man!'..."
Tindal was born in August 1870, in Woodbury Township in Marion County. His father was a farmer. More exactly, according to Tindal, "a pretty good sized landholder." The big money crop, way back then, at least for the Tindals, was timber.
"The land wouldn't make much cotton," he recalls. "Real good corn country, however, and rice did very well. My daddy, he owned between two and three thousand acres. By far the most of it was covered with timber. Some of the best black cypress you ever saw."
The oldster sighed, "Just about all gone," he said. "Gone like all the family and all the boys and girls I grew up with..."
"Woodbury, as you probably know," continued the old man, "was the cradle of Marion. There's burial markers down there which go back to the late 1600's. Everything grew high: the grass, the trees, the wild grapes. There were few Negroes, in this country, back then. Not too many white folks. I knew nearly all. My father - he was an Emanuel also - was born in Horry County, just across from Marion. I had one brother and two sisters. My brother was a sort of delicate man. Never able to do much hard work. And he died young, only about 60. My sisters too are dead.
"Daddy fought for four years with the Confederates. All over the South; Virginia, Mississippi and even Tennessee. Came through without a scratch. He was 84 when he died.
"Well, like I said, being that I was the only hearty boy in the family, I worked early and late. Hard work don't hurt a man. After work, there was always good, substantial food waitin' at home for me. And kind treatment. I lapped up both." Tindal gave a little chuckle.
"We did what farming we could during the good weather," said Tindal. "Daddy, he was one of the best in the neighborhood...when he couldn't make it, everybody had a failure. There was little money around. But money really bought something. When I was a boy, you carried your money in your pocket and your groceries home in a wagon. Today, you carry a wagon load of money to the market, and your groceries home in your pocket."
Come the cold winds, the rains of fall and winter, and young Emanuel Tindal's work only really began.
"In August," he recalled, "I ringed cypress trees to the outer heart. By winter they were dead and easily felled. With every freshet I would float them to the Little Pee Dee, from it to the Big Pee Dee and down to Georgetown.
"I would couple the great logs together into a long raft. About 40 to 50 logs. I'd put a boat on top - which we used to paddle back home with - and with a 30 foot sweepoar to keep the raft from snagging ashore, I'd be off to the Port City."
Alone? "Hardly ever." said Tindal, "Sometimes, but not often, daddy would go along. Many times another young feller would accompany me. It was about 75 miles to Georgetown via the riverways. Windin' and windin', this way and that through the wild and wooded country."
How long would it take to float the timber down the river?
"Three or four days," informed the old gentleman. "But it has taken a week. If you caught a flood tide above Georgetown, the raft would move hardly at all, until the tide went down. But it was worth the trouble." He closed his eyes remembering.
"A man got the feeling of having done something," he resumed, "when he reached the city, and sold off his logs. I used to walk the streets of Georgetown proudly. A small bundle of bills in my pocket. Money needed badly at home. So bad, that I usually kept a hand over the pocket that held the money. Feared it would be stolen in the city, you know. I'd look in nearly every shop window. Gosh but there were some pretty things offered for sale...I wanted them all. Wanted to but mother and my sisters pretty clothes; wanted to buy daddy things like rich men had...but I never spent a cent. Daddy, he handled money as well as King Solomon could..."
What, in 90 long years of living in one section, did Mr. Tindal consider the most exciting events he remembered?
"Well," he said quickly, "there was the big quake. I had just turned 16 that same month. The disturbance came in the night. I was in the bed in my father's home when the house did that crazy dance. But I didn't stay there...ran out into the yard. Folks kept a lot of sheep in those days. These were bleating, the cows were lowing, the dogs barking and people, they were praying and wailing to God. It was a time to remember."
From the misty past the old gentleman came swiftly back to the present.
"Another calamity," he said, "took place just a week or two ago. Began to rain. Poured for two days and nights. Twelve inches they said. As big a rain as ever I saw. And I saw two men in a boat in a tobacco field, cropping the weed!"
Wonders never cease for Emanuel Tindal. Perhaps that's why he's going strong at 90 years of age.
Written by Eugene Fallon for the Florence Morning News, August 21, 1960, page 20
Brother of:
Elizabeth Tindal Goude Woodbury
James M. Tindall
Seaney Tindal Goude
Samuel B. Tindal
Half brother of:
William Walter Tindall
George Nesbit Tindall
BRITTON'S NECK MAN, 90, RECALLS 'OLD DAYS' IN MARION COUNTY
CENTENARY - "I'm a little tired," said 90 year old Emanuel Tindal as he sat on the porch of his farm home located below Brittons Neck. "I've been working pretty hard, you see, in tobacco. But being an obligin' fellow, I'll try to tell you how it was in the old days and hereabouts."
Tindal is tall and thin and his skin has weathered to the color of brown parchment, but his memory is an excellent thing and he hears well and his eyes are good enough - with the help of glasses - to enable him to read a daily newspaper. He expressed a conviction that "that Powers feller, who the Russians hold, will not be shot. Mr. Ike, he told the Russians, 'you dare not shoot this man!'..."
Tindal was born in August 1870, in Woodbury Township in Marion County. His father was a farmer. More exactly, according to Tindal, "a pretty good sized landholder." The big money crop, way back then, at least for the Tindals, was timber.
"The land wouldn't make much cotton," he recalls. "Real good corn country, however, and rice did very well. My daddy, he owned between two and three thousand acres. By far the most of it was covered with timber. Some of the best black cypress you ever saw."
The oldster sighed, "Just about all gone," he said. "Gone like all the family and all the boys and girls I grew up with..."
"Woodbury, as you probably know," continued the old man, "was the cradle of Marion. There's burial markers down there which go back to the late 1600's. Everything grew high: the grass, the trees, the wild grapes. There were few Negroes, in this country, back then. Not too many white folks. I knew nearly all. My father - he was an Emanuel also - was born in Horry County, just across from Marion. I had one brother and two sisters. My brother was a sort of delicate man. Never able to do much hard work. And he died young, only about 60. My sisters too are dead.
"Daddy fought for four years with the Confederates. All over the South; Virginia, Mississippi and even Tennessee. Came through without a scratch. He was 84 when he died.
"Well, like I said, being that I was the only hearty boy in the family, I worked early and late. Hard work don't hurt a man. After work, there was always good, substantial food waitin' at home for me. And kind treatment. I lapped up both." Tindal gave a little chuckle.
"We did what farming we could during the good weather," said Tindal. "Daddy, he was one of the best in the neighborhood...when he couldn't make it, everybody had a failure. There was little money around. But money really bought something. When I was a boy, you carried your money in your pocket and your groceries home in a wagon. Today, you carry a wagon load of money to the market, and your groceries home in your pocket."
Come the cold winds, the rains of fall and winter, and young Emanuel Tindal's work only really began.
"In August," he recalled, "I ringed cypress trees to the outer heart. By winter they were dead and easily felled. With every freshet I would float them to the Little Pee Dee, from it to the Big Pee Dee and down to Georgetown.
"I would couple the great logs together into a long raft. About 40 to 50 logs. I'd put a boat on top - which we used to paddle back home with - and with a 30 foot sweepoar to keep the raft from snagging ashore, I'd be off to the Port City."
Alone? "Hardly ever." said Tindal, "Sometimes, but not often, daddy would go along. Many times another young feller would accompany me. It was about 75 miles to Georgetown via the riverways. Windin' and windin', this way and that through the wild and wooded country."
How long would it take to float the timber down the river?
"Three or four days," informed the old gentleman. "But it has taken a week. If you caught a flood tide above Georgetown, the raft would move hardly at all, until the tide went down. But it was worth the trouble." He closed his eyes remembering.
"A man got the feeling of having done something," he resumed, "when he reached the city, and sold off his logs. I used to walk the streets of Georgetown proudly. A small bundle of bills in my pocket. Money needed badly at home. So bad, that I usually kept a hand over the pocket that held the money. Feared it would be stolen in the city, you know. I'd look in nearly every shop window. Gosh but there were some pretty things offered for sale...I wanted them all. Wanted to but mother and my sisters pretty clothes; wanted to buy daddy things like rich men had...but I never spent a cent. Daddy, he handled money as well as King Solomon could..."
What, in 90 long years of living in one section, did Mr. Tindal consider the most exciting events he remembered?
"Well," he said quickly, "there was the big quake. I had just turned 16 that same month. The disturbance came in the night. I was in the bed in my father's home when the house did that crazy dance. But I didn't stay there...ran out into the yard. Folks kept a lot of sheep in those days. These were bleating, the cows were lowing, the dogs barking and people, they were praying and wailing to God. It was a time to remember."
From the misty past the old gentleman came swiftly back to the present.
"Another calamity," he said, "took place just a week or two ago. Began to rain. Poured for two days and nights. Twelve inches they said. As big a rain as ever I saw. And I saw two men in a boat in a tobacco field, cropping the weed!"
Wonders never cease for Emanuel Tindal. Perhaps that's why he's going strong at 90 years of age.
Written by Eugene Fallon for the Florence Morning News, August 21, 1960, page 20
Son of Nathan Emanuel Marion and Fannie Marlowe Tindal, husband of Martha Wallace.
Brother of:
Elizabeth Tindal Goude Woodbury
James M. Tindall
Seaney Tindal Goude
Samuel B. Tindal
Half brother of:
William Walter Tindall
George Nesbit Tindall
BRITTON'S NECK MAN, 90, RECALLS 'OLD DAYS' IN MARION COUNTY
CENTENARY - "I'm a little tired," said 90 year old Emanuel Tindal as he sat on the porch of his farm home located below Brittons Neck. "I've been working pretty hard, you see, in tobacco. But being an obligin' fellow, I'll try to tell you how it was in the old days and hereabouts."
Tindal is tall and thin and his skin has weathered to the color of brown parchment, but his memory is an excellent thing and he hears well and his eyes are good enough - with the help of glasses - to enable him to read a daily newspaper. He expressed a conviction that "that Powers feller, who the Russians hold, will not be shot. Mr. Ike, he told the Russians, 'you dare not shoot this man!'..."
Tindal was born in August 1870, in Woodbury Township in Marion County. His father was a farmer. More exactly, according to Tindal, "a pretty good sized landholder." The big money crop, way back then, at least for the Tindals, was timber.
"The land wouldn't make much cotton," he recalls. "Real good corn country, however, and rice did very well. My daddy, he owned between two and three thousand acres. By far the most of it was covered with timber. Some of the best black cypress you ever saw."
The oldster sighed, "Just about all gone," he said. "Gone like all the family and all the boys and girls I grew up with..."
"Woodbury, as you probably know," continued the old man, "was the cradle of Marion. There's burial markers down there which go back to the late 1600's. Everything grew high: the grass, the trees, the wild grapes. There were few Negroes, in this country, back then. Not too many white folks. I knew nearly all. My father - he was an Emanuel also - was born in Horry County, just across from Marion. I had one brother and two sisters. My brother was a sort of delicate man. Never able to do much hard work. And he died young, only about 60. My sisters too are dead.
"Daddy fought for four years with the Confederates. All over the South; Virginia, Mississippi and even Tennessee. Came through without a scratch. He was 84 when he died.
"Well, like I said, being that I was the only hearty boy in the family, I worked early and late. Hard work don't hurt a man. After work, there was always good, substantial food waitin' at home for me. And kind treatment. I lapped up both." Tindal gave a little chuckle.
"We did what farming we could during the good weather," said Tindal. "Daddy, he was one of the best in the neighborhood...when he couldn't make it, everybody had a failure. There was little money around. But money really bought something. When I was a boy, you carried your money in your pocket and your groceries home in a wagon. Today, you carry a wagon load of money to the market, and your groceries home in your pocket."
Come the cold winds, the rains of fall and winter, and young Emanuel Tindal's work only really began.
"In August," he recalled, "I ringed cypress trees to the outer heart. By winter they were dead and easily felled. With every freshet I would float them to the Little Pee Dee, from it to the Big Pee Dee and down to Georgetown.
"I would couple the great logs together into a long raft. About 40 to 50 logs. I'd put a boat on top - which we used to paddle back home with - and with a 30 foot sweepoar to keep the raft from snagging ashore, I'd be off to the Port City."
Alone? "Hardly ever." said Tindal, "Sometimes, but not often, daddy would go along. Many times another young feller would accompany me. It was about 75 miles to Georgetown via the riverways. Windin' and windin', this way and that through the wild and wooded country."
How long would it take to float the timber down the river?
"Three or four days," informed the old gentleman. "But it has taken a week. If you caught a flood tide above Georgetown, the raft would move hardly at all, until the tide went down. But it was worth the trouble." He closed his eyes remembering.
"A man got the feeling of having done something," he resumed, "when he reached the city, and sold off his logs. I used to walk the streets of Georgetown proudly. A small bundle of bills in my pocket. Money needed badly at home. So bad, that I usually kept a hand over the pocket that held the money. Feared it would be stolen in the city, you know. I'd look in nearly every shop window. Gosh but there were some pretty things offered for sale...I wanted them all. Wanted to but mother and my sisters pretty clothes; wanted to buy daddy things like rich men had...but I never spent a cent. Daddy, he handled money as well as King Solomon could..."
What, in 90 long years of living in one section, did Mr. Tindal consider the most exciting events he remembered?
"Well," he said quickly, "there was the big quake. I had just turned 16 that same month. The disturbance came in the night. I was in the bed in my father's home when the house did that crazy dance. But I didn't stay there...ran out into the yard. Folks kept a lot of sheep in those days. These were bleating, the cows were lowing, the dogs barking and people, they were praying and wailing to God. It was a time to remember."
From the misty past the old gentleman came swiftly back to the present.
"Another calamity," he said, "took place just a week or two ago. Began to rain. Poured for two days and nights. Twelve inches they said. As big a rain as ever I saw. And I saw two men in a boat in a tobacco field, cropping the weed!"
Wonders never cease for Emanuel Tindal. Perhaps that's why he's going strong at 90 years of age.
Written by Eugene Fallon for the Florence Morning News, August 21, 1960, page 20
Brother of:
Elizabeth Tindal Goude Woodbury
James M. Tindall
Seaney Tindal Goude
Samuel B. Tindal
Half brother of:
William Walter Tindall
George Nesbit Tindall
BRITTON'S NECK MAN, 90, RECALLS 'OLD DAYS' IN MARION COUNTY
CENTENARY - "I'm a little tired," said 90 year old Emanuel Tindal as he sat on the porch of his farm home located below Brittons Neck. "I've been working pretty hard, you see, in tobacco. But being an obligin' fellow, I'll try to tell you how it was in the old days and hereabouts."
Tindal is tall and thin and his skin has weathered to the color of brown parchment, but his memory is an excellent thing and he hears well and his eyes are good enough - with the help of glasses - to enable him to read a daily newspaper. He expressed a conviction that "that Powers feller, who the Russians hold, will not be shot. Mr. Ike, he told the Russians, 'you dare not shoot this man!'..."
Tindal was born in August 1870, in Woodbury Township in Marion County. His father was a farmer. More exactly, according to Tindal, "a pretty good sized landholder." The big money crop, way back then, at least for the Tindals, was timber.
"The land wouldn't make much cotton," he recalls. "Real good corn country, however, and rice did very well. My daddy, he owned between two and three thousand acres. By far the most of it was covered with timber. Some of the best black cypress you ever saw."
The oldster sighed, "Just about all gone," he said. "Gone like all the family and all the boys and girls I grew up with..."
"Woodbury, as you probably know," continued the old man, "was the cradle of Marion. There's burial markers down there which go back to the late 1600's. Everything grew high: the grass, the trees, the wild grapes. There were few Negroes, in this country, back then. Not too many white folks. I knew nearly all. My father - he was an Emanuel also - was born in Horry County, just across from Marion. I had one brother and two sisters. My brother was a sort of delicate man. Never able to do much hard work. And he died young, only about 60. My sisters too are dead.
"Daddy fought for four years with the Confederates. All over the South; Virginia, Mississippi and even Tennessee. Came through without a scratch. He was 84 when he died.
"Well, like I said, being that I was the only hearty boy in the family, I worked early and late. Hard work don't hurt a man. After work, there was always good, substantial food waitin' at home for me. And kind treatment. I lapped up both." Tindal gave a little chuckle.
"We did what farming we could during the good weather," said Tindal. "Daddy, he was one of the best in the neighborhood...when he couldn't make it, everybody had a failure. There was little money around. But money really bought something. When I was a boy, you carried your money in your pocket and your groceries home in a wagon. Today, you carry a wagon load of money to the market, and your groceries home in your pocket."
Come the cold winds, the rains of fall and winter, and young Emanuel Tindal's work only really began.
"In August," he recalled, "I ringed cypress trees to the outer heart. By winter they were dead and easily felled. With every freshet I would float them to the Little Pee Dee, from it to the Big Pee Dee and down to Georgetown.
"I would couple the great logs together into a long raft. About 40 to 50 logs. I'd put a boat on top - which we used to paddle back home with - and with a 30 foot sweepoar to keep the raft from snagging ashore, I'd be off to the Port City."
Alone? "Hardly ever." said Tindal, "Sometimes, but not often, daddy would go along. Many times another young feller would accompany me. It was about 75 miles to Georgetown via the riverways. Windin' and windin', this way and that through the wild and wooded country."
How long would it take to float the timber down the river?
"Three or four days," informed the old gentleman. "But it has taken a week. If you caught a flood tide above Georgetown, the raft would move hardly at all, until the tide went down. But it was worth the trouble." He closed his eyes remembering.
"A man got the feeling of having done something," he resumed, "when he reached the city, and sold off his logs. I used to walk the streets of Georgetown proudly. A small bundle of bills in my pocket. Money needed badly at home. So bad, that I usually kept a hand over the pocket that held the money. Feared it would be stolen in the city, you know. I'd look in nearly every shop window. Gosh but there were some pretty things offered for sale...I wanted them all. Wanted to but mother and my sisters pretty clothes; wanted to buy daddy things like rich men had...but I never spent a cent. Daddy, he handled money as well as King Solomon could..."
What, in 90 long years of living in one section, did Mr. Tindal consider the most exciting events he remembered?
"Well," he said quickly, "there was the big quake. I had just turned 16 that same month. The disturbance came in the night. I was in the bed in my father's home when the house did that crazy dance. But I didn't stay there...ran out into the yard. Folks kept a lot of sheep in those days. These were bleating, the cows were lowing, the dogs barking and people, they were praying and wailing to God. It was a time to remember."
From the misty past the old gentleman came swiftly back to the present.
"Another calamity," he said, "took place just a week or two ago. Began to rain. Poured for two days and nights. Twelve inches they said. As big a rain as ever I saw. And I saw two men in a boat in a tobacco field, cropping the weed!"
Wonders never cease for Emanuel Tindal. Perhaps that's why he's going strong at 90 years of age.
Written by Eugene Fallon for the Florence Morning News, August 21, 1960, page 20
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