“Timberbeast” is a slang term for a logger or lumberjack. Once the term had a negative connotation, but today, the term is used more as respect for the hard work those in the logging and forestry industry do every day. Virginia Tech even hosts an annual Timberbeast Competition in timber events.
My dad was a Timberbeast. He loved to cut wood. Lots of wood. My first experience in working with a Timberbeast came in the summer right after third grade. My stepdad, Bob, and my mom had just married, and their honeymoon was in Hannibal, Missouri, about 60 miles from home. A veritable romantic Mark Twain experience, or so I am told.
My brother, Craig, and I were excited to see them when they returned home because as part of the deal, we moved from the city to the farm, and this was new and exciting for us. However, about five minutes after they returned home, Bob yelled out, “boys, get your work clothes on.” I need to preface this with the fact that before this moment, we had lived in the city and just hung out with friends and rode our bikes. We had no idea what work clothes were.
I remember us asking Bob what are work clothes. He said that jeans and a T-shirt would do. We then headed into the woods in a three-quarter ton Dodge truck complete with chain saw, gas cans and an Igloo thermos full of water. We were told that our job was to haul brush and to load the cut wood into the back of the truck. It was hot. There were bugs. After about an hour, we decided that this was not as fun as we thought it would be.
After a brief discussion, Craig and I decided to call it a day and pass the time in the cab of the truck, listening to the radio and slurping down water. It was a decision that became our first lesson in accountability and discipline. We quickly learned that Bob made no distinction between biological kids and step kids. The next several hours of hauling brush and loading wood were done through teary eyes and under protest. We were in those woods until dark. It was then that we knew our lives had changed forever.
A few years later, my dad and Grandpa John bought some old sawmill parts at a farm auction and built a sawmill at the house. It was powered by our John Deere 60 tractor with a belt connecting the tractor flywheel to a larger flywheel on the sawmill that drove a 4-foot saw blade. I am quite sure it was not Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) compliant. For example, if the belt would start slipping, my dad would holler at me to get the belt dressing — imagine a giant, sticky black crayon held on the underside of the belt while it was running to apply sticky substance that gave it more grip. However, my main job was to handle the rough-cut slabs and lumber, as he ran the logs through.
Once, I had basketball practice, and my mom volunteered to take my place at the sawmill, which proved disastrous. While she was lifting an uneven slab off the mill, it bowed into the blade and before she could let go, it pulled her into the blade. I went to see her in the hospital and learned that she had a giant bruise on her back where the sawblade bolt had made contact and a serious cut on her left arm. And her wedding ring had been cut off when her left hand contacted the sawblade.
I can tell you that I truly know what guilt feels like, sitting in my mom’s hospital room thinking that I should have been there and not at basketball practice.
Our home was 100% heated with wood. We also supplied firewood to those in need at our church. My dad traded rough-cut lumber to other farmers, and he took vacation days from work just to cut wood. Forty years later, I run my own chain saw. After a couple of hours cutting wood with my office-worker physique, I realize what a Timberbeast my dad was — running a saw all day with his only breaks being to get a drink of water, refill the gas tank on his Homelite 550 and to sharpen the chain on his chain saw while he smoked a Pall Mall.
According to the U.S. Forest Service, Arkansas ranks No. 3 in the nation for economic impact of forestry in the United States and ranks No. 1 in the southern states. Arkansas has 19 million acres of forestland covering 56% of the state — my dad would have loved it. Forestry contributes 4.1% to our state’s economy, and in total, contributes over $6 billion to the state. Arkansas is No. 2 in the South for total seedlings grown and No. 1 for the number of hardwood seedlings grown.
With all the national attention on carbon dioxide, I think it is fair to say that Arkansas is doing its part through forestry to remove carbon from the atmosphere. More importantly, timber, paper products and related industries provide jobs for 26,778 skilled workers. I am proud to say that the electric cooperatives support this important industry. Fifteen of our 17 distribution cooperatives provide electricity to timber and paper product manufacturing companies and companies that service those industries, such as Domtar, Georgia Pacific, Weyerhaeuser and Greenbay Packaging.
I thought it only fitting this month to recognize those who support this vital industry and to truly pay homage to the amazing Timberbeasts in our great state. And to thank them for all they do to support our economy, while also doing a phenomenal job at managing the forests and keeping the industry sustainable.