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Show Mr Working people . y, ; and the marketplace 11? Review i Wednesday March 26, 1986 Clutching his can of sorghum syrup, Southern-raise- d 1C Ernest Lewis gets a touch of friendship from traveling syrup salesman George Duncan. Sweet, sweet sorghum syrup George Duncan is a traveling syrup salesman. Not your average job, but not your average man either. You see, George Duncan is sweet on America. And he peddles a product that echoes the golden ages of America that, according to him, are long gone. This is nostalgia, he drawled with an accent that reflects his upbringing in the deep South. Selling the sweet memories of youth in 5 cans, a full 44 fluid ounces, Duncan offers products that have been replaced by white, refined and granulated sugar. His syrups, the dark tangy sorghum syrup, the delicate sweet ribbon-can- e syrup and the brown sugary cane molasses, are made to delight the palate. He said his product is so delicious, your tongue will beat your brains out for 30 minutes. But his syrups, that carry his name on the label, are only available from the back of his double-cabbe- American-mad- d, e, pickup truck still going strong after 260,000 miles. On the road for 42 years, he spent the last nine parked alongside highways, inside parking lots, next to parks or anywhere a steady flow of traffic will see the banner that simply shouts, SORGHUM. And if the wind or traffic should blow a sheet of trash onto his spot Duncan is the kind of man who will pick it up and pack it out. He is on the road most of the year, living up to the American ideal of free enterprise, because, I dont want to give what little I make to those in big business. His style of making a profitable living is in danger because cities and towns are more and more restricting the activities of traveling sellers. The city councils and the chambers of commerce are making things hard on me. You used to see a lot of guys selling like this, but not so much anymore, he said. d d and The ' America in If Duncan said, you do youre what an American has to do. And he has heeded that call himself. He was pensioned out of the Navy at the end of World War II after spending $even months in a body cast, from here on down," he said, with his hand bumping his . OshKosh-coveralle- wool-shirte- Adams apple. . But once he was able to work, to be independent and productive, he turned his pen- sion checks back to the government. I think my government needs it for the control of the country more than I (need it), Duncan said. Another reason he doesnt need his pension is that he works for what he earns. And has for all his working life. My fcfther taught his kids to work. He said if you dont teach your kids to work they become parasites. ; Yet he had fun growing up in the hill country. I had more fun growing up in them hills than a barrel of monkeys in a grape vine, he said. Born in the early years of this century in a beginning the heart of the Bible belt that gave him a deeply rooted Christianity Duncan proudly said, I have lived in the best days this country has ever known. He remembers times when Good Samaritans were easily found and when a dollar, was worth a dollar and bought a dollars worth of food. And the time when the people across the street were neighbors instead of strangers. He told of the crowds who were attending an uncles funeral. You couldnt get within two blocks of the church with all the cars and people who were there, to pay last respects to a man who lived a life of giving help when it was needed. His wanderings across the backroads and blue highways of America have taken him everywhere. Usually traveling with his wife of almost 50 years, Duncan said he has found only good places. There are no bad places, and Ive been to them all. He has been in every state and in every province of Canada, but he was in Hawaii before it was a state. This father of seven takes diligent care from the planting of the seed to the selling of his product. When he makes his syrups he plants seeds in the spring, waits through hot summer nights stultifying with humidity, harvests, mills and boils down the juice in the fall. And still he is on the road almost all year. Yet he has no worries about the operation back home in Kentucky. You dont have to if you hire honest men, he said. forty-- foot . . - George Duncan takes a moments rest from selling his syrup. But to get maple syrup he must buy it. I get the first pour from the first vat. I dont wait for it from the second vat. They add water and heat it some more and call it light amber and thats the kind you can get in the stores. I buy only the best grade A fancy and you cant get that in any store, he said. This last trip to Utah when he was parked off the highway in Sunset, he was selling syrup that is superb on, hot cakes, waffles, toast, french toast, com bread and muffins. It can be baked into cakes, cookies, said Dunbreads, rolls and ' V ' sV .v , whole-wheat- s, can. And it is excellent in beans, he contin- - ued. And he sells a product with no preservatives, no chemical additives and complete with five nutrients iron, potassium, calcium, niacin, and riboflavin. His syrups are rare in the West but are commonplace in the South. The sorghum syrup has been part of the Souths everyday diet, especially for older people who remem- ber it from before World War II. laLast week in Colorado an she was a jewel, he said. dy came up But his products originated even before the old lady was a child. His syrups were what the settlers and colonials used for sweetening before the granulation of sugar was perfected. Ribbon cane syrup is the oldest variety of syrup in this nation, he said. The cane originated in Barbados and was cultivated before the Revolutionary War. And in the rare breed of men, like George Duncan, it is still cultivated, processed and sold, continuing one of our countrys sweet traditions. - . . :i': , ? - - , - .'''-'- I dJ . George Duncan Story and photos by Robert Regan Clinton resident stops by the truck with the SORGHUM banner, left, while other customers decide from syrup varieties that fill George Duncans pickup truck. I |