Finding Ray 5

Jim said he didn't know. 

That hit me like a spinning back kick to the stomach. I looked at him and hoped he would say, "Just kidding." But he didn't.

They worked together until the wood yard in Durant, Mississippi stopped buying short wood which was the way they did pulpwood back in the day. Pulpwood is still cut by wooders and bought by wood yards across Mississippi and the nation, only now it is no longer in the six foot sticks of the old days, but is bought only in lengths of sixteen feet and longer. Those eighteen wheelers you see carrying the long skinny pine trees is how pulpwood is cut and sold today. Gone are the one and two ton trucks that have the makeshift racks on the back. Those were the bottom feeders of the timber industry, entrepreneurs who took a wore out truck, put a rack on the back and hauled wood for a living or maybe just a little extra cash. 

"That was around 2004, 2005 I think. When the pulpwood business as we knew it died, he just left. I didn't see him anymore. I converted my '68 two ton Chevy into a short log hauler. But Ray wanted none of that. I don't know why but he didn't."

My mind was turning in circles. Two thousand four was about the time I went to Steen Hill Road only to find Ray gone and his little cabin a pile of ashes. Were the two events connected? Another question I wanted to ask Ray.

"If I had to guess," Jim started back up, "I'd say he's in South Mississippi."

"Why?"

"There are only a couple of wood yards left that still buy short wood. He's hauling for one of those. Or working for or with someone who is. I'll bet you. That's all he ever wanted to do to make money."

"Do you have a name, a wood yard, where I can go and look for him."

He was silent a few seconds. 

"Naw. But I heard there was a couple of 'em left down there somewhere. I tell you who would know. Go to the wood yard in Durant and ask them."

"Where in Durant?"

"It's on Highway 51 just north of town. Going north it is on the right. You'll be coming south so it will be on your left. If you get into town, turn around and go back just a little ways. You'll see it. I bet those folks can tell you. You find a wood yard in Mississippi that buys short wood and you find Ray."

So I shook his hand, thanked him, and left. 

I was several miles down the road before I realized that I never asked him about Ray's age. I never asked all those questions about how he was known for generations and he never seemed to get any older. How could I forget? Duh!

I drove home, booted my computer and tried to plan out the next Friday. Fridays used to be dedicated to swimming. Now they were given to searching for Ray. 

I found Durant on the map and tried to see where the next wood yard might be. Then I did some googling and got numbers for pulpwood buyers and timber companies all over the state. Then I formed my plan. I would go to the pastors' breakfast in Carrollton next Friday morning. Some of those guys lived around there and they might know about the pulpwood business. I could ask them some questions. Then I would drive to Winona, get on Highway 51, and make phone calls while I drove to Durant. After Durant, the next wood yard that I knew about was in Terry, Mississippi. If my phone calls didn't yield results, I would drive there. Maybe. At least I would spend the day looking, calling, asking questions.