ALL THINGS HISTORICAL
Kirby Lumber: miller's tale
Archie P. McDonald

My father-in-law, B.L. Barrett, was born in Fuqua, graduated from high school in Kirbyville, and married Edna Idell Bass, born in Warren. What does Fuqua, Kirbyville, and Warren have in common?: saw mills operated by John Henry Kirby. A succession of Mr. Barrett's step fathers and Miss Bass' father's family all worked in mills Kirby operated north of Beaumont until they "escaped" to oil refinery employment in one of Jefferson's county's coastal cities.

Life for laborers in a Kirby mill, in company towns, followed the rhythm of whistles from tram trains bringing logs for processing to the signals by which the mill itself marked its day from work time to quitting time, including the blasts that indicated accidents or fires or other dreaded events.

The pay wasn't much and even that likely came in the form of "script" or "chit" - paper or coins made of inexpensive metal and issued by the company in lieu of real United States currency - redeemable only at the company store. Prices there kept the worker about one payday short of ever becoming debt free, and thus obligated come Monday morning for another six-day week of work.

If a worker succeeded in securing legal tender for a necessary trip to Beaumont or Houston, his pay might be discounted as much as twenty-five percent. His family lived in company houses, with rent adjusted similarly to mercantile store prices. Perhaps the company even owned the church house where the worker's family worshiped.

The family probably had access to a company clinic, if ailments proved sufficiently critical, with dispensary services available for less serious maladies and injuries.

A great many East Texans lived this life during a significant portion of the 20th century. They lived in Bon Wier, Burkeville, or Buna, in Silsbee or Kirbyville or Koontz. When time permitted they hunted and fished and gathered wild berries or nuts- I especially remember the chinquapins, which apparently are no more. A Saturday night dance, a Sunday preaching, pivoted week upon week of cooking meals over coal oil stoves, working at the mill from daylight to dark, kids going to school, Monday wash days...until the trees were gone. Then the mill, and the men, moved, to do it all over again.

This column is provided as a public service by the East Texas Historical Association. Archie P. McDonald is director of the Association and author of more than 20 books on Texas.