Long Live the King
Some things, some objects or products, some materials and artifacts, simply become representative symbols of a place or a time. Try thinking of Egypt without including the Pyramids, or King Tut's burial mask. New York city without the Empire State building, or now more fittingly, the Twin Towers. By extension, the largest portion of the rest of the world cannot visualize the United States, without imagining the Big Apple. Think of baseball without Babe Ruth, or Fenway Park, that green monster staring down, intimidating everyone who steps into the batters box. There's a name for these sorts of symbols, they've come to be known as icons, and I believe there's also one for my South, King syrup.
Growing up, my family didn't have much, we were not impoverished, not pitiful, just simply poor. Yet, I can't remember ever going without a meal. I can however, remember times when flour and grease made up the better part of what meals we were lucky enough to have. My Mother, with help from my Grandmother and Grandfather, took the responsibility of raising us three very seriously. When my Grandfather died, times got pretty tough. I didn't really know how tough they were though, as I didn't have a concept for money then, much less the lack of it. I simply thought we ate allot of corn-bread, and boiled potatoes. While Mom and G-ma didn't have much money, they did have strong backs, and a garden spot. In the worst of those times, after the vegetables ran low, we ate cornmeal mush, which is what my G-ma made when there was not enough grease and milk to make cornbread. If you've never had it, thank the good lord as you lay your head down this evening, imagine a cross between grits and grade school paste.
It's interesting, when times are sand-paper rough, how precious simple things can become. To this day, I get angry at myself if I waste a single sheet of paper while doing a drawing. I still clean my plate, feeling guilty if I don't, that I have somehow deprived someone of part of a meal. Back then, I couldn't understand why my G-ma never threw away a glass jar, or container. I realized later, that she married in 1934, during the height of the depression, and it became as clear as the mayonnaise jars that lined the shelves under the sink. For me, the most precious thing,(probably because it was rare), was King Syrup.
It came two ways, in a little glass bottle (which my G-ma also saved), and a stubby tin with a paint-can lid. It was on the short list of things I would save my lunch money up to buy, amongst comic books, balsa-wood airplanes (the kind with the rubber band propellors), and chewing tobacco. When I had a craving on for King Syrup, that little glass bottle just wouldn't do, it was a tins worth or nothing. There were several places in town where you could find it in the tin, the A&P had them, they could also be located at Winn-Dixie (but only sporadically), and finally, one store within walking distance of my house, Horton's.
A type of place that's rare now, Horton's was a grocery, gas station, and butcher's shop all in one. I knew everyone who worked there, from Mrs. Horton who had opened the place with her late husband, to John Ray, the meat cutter, a good friend to my Grandfather. You couldn't buy a car there, or a machine gun, but pretty much anything else was right there on the shelves. I bought my first Zippo lighter there, God knows why, I was ten (I still have it, and it still works), and John Ray's pork sausage is a local legend, even more-so now that it's gone. They had a magazine rack, with nothing too racy, Hot-Rod and Chopper magazines could be had, but no Playboy or Penthouse or Cosmo were displayed, which I can only credit to my belief that Mrs. Horton had never actually looked at the pictures in Hot-Rod or Chopper. There was feed, for animals from dogs to cats, cows to chickens, as well as a selection of comics, and balsa-wood airplanes (the kind with the rubber-band propellor), so it's enough to say that Horton's was a regular stop for everyone in my family, and my destination of choice for King Syrup in the tin.
If you've never had King Syrup, mores the pity. One of the great experiences in life is to smother a buttered biscuit with the stuff. Karo, while good, is missing something, Oh Boy! Syrup is just not a sufficient, and has an unusual whang to boot. Nope, King Syrup is King for a reason. Most syrups are purpose built, maple flavored kinds begin to fall thin when applied to anything other than a waffle or pancake, and white syrup is worthless other than as an ingredient. On the other hand King Syrup is rich, and thick, with a spicy flavor that can't be explained other than to say Molasses can't hold a candle to it. Unlike other types of syrups, King is good on just about anything, from biscuits to country ham, pancakes, to sausage or peanut butter, and I've gone as far as to just pour it over a plateful of food. Hell, it even made corn-meal mush edible, and has the honor of being the only syrup I will eat all by itself, with a spoon, or walk nearly two miles (one way) to buy.
Things have sure changed since the cornmeal mush days, Mrs. Horton has passed on, and with her, the store. Oh, it's still there, but under new ownership, I never stop, it doesn't even smell the same. John Ray long ago quit the butcher shop, first to open one of his own, and later, poetically, to work at a local funeral home. I haven't bought a tin of King Syrup in years, I don't know if they still sell it that way. I've taken it home in bottles, but truth is, I don't think it tastes the same, the way Pepsi hasn't been the same since they introduced it in plastic. There's something about the proper container for a product, that amplifies the sensation of quality and value, kinda like praying in a beautiful church. I miss it, badly, just like the Sugar Hill community in which I was raised, and learned to love King Syrup. Like Horton's store, it's still there, but filled with strangers on strange errands, and now that the road has been shifted from its old course, it just doesn't look like home.
I don't know why King Syrup has the place it has in my heart and memory, but I feel sure that there's something you recall that has a similar place. There's a great deal from that part of my life that I would love to have again, but cannot. However, if there is a chance they still sell King Syrup in the tin, maybe I can find a place that carries it. Hey, do you think there's a chance they have balsa wood airplanes, (the kind with the rubber-band propellors) there too?
Course, what the hell do I know?
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