I was recently asked to write a short suspense with author friends, but unfortunately that was put off to the side for now. However, for three years I have been scratching notes and pondering the idea of writing a historical series. Most readers know me by my sweet Amish Romances or quick moving suspense novels, but historical fiction is my favorite genre, and one I have yet to tackle. I’m really excited to begin working on this.

I grew up surrounded by the timber industry, and recently had an invite to sit in a Master Loggers class locally. Times have changed drastically, but I found much of what I learned in the two days to be very informative. I didn’t attend day three, since it covered chainsaw safety. I have no desire to pick up a chainsaw and cut down a tree, even if Mr. Steele did have me help cut a few logs for firewood last fall.

When we think of logging, that burly woodsman who carried and ax and was accompanied by a blue ox often comes to mind. In reality, Paul Bunyan and Babe are mythical characters in a complex industry and loggers aren’t all rugged heroes in our favorite books either.

Forest products are a $270-billion-a-year industry, from paper to building materials. Logging has been around since the early 1600s, and has changed dramatically over the decades. I grew up hearing stories of my great uncles timbering and how quickly accidents happen. In fact, Logging has been the second most dangerous job on the planted since…forever! My maternal grandmother has shared so many tales of lumber camps and how living in a home that was rolled on logs to the next site was for her. I have seen men cut off fingers and recall the very day I was taking a walk, with Cody, my eldest, in a stroller when I heard a sound I will never forget. It was a tree being felled, which I have heard many times, but the cries after, and soon sirens that followed, echoing up hollers and across valleys, told me then someone had been lost to our close-knit community. Years later Cody endured a horrible accident in a mill, and I’m so thankful God was with him for as bad as it was, he was spared a worse outcome. The dangers are there, but timber drives men onward,.

My heritage was built on men who helped build our country, one board at a time. From cutters, to millers, to buying and selling of logs, sawdust and income filled pockets and feed families.

Early on timber was cut near waterways, making transportation easier to reach mills and overseas. From ax’s and two-man saws, to gas powered chainsaws and tree cutters, concern grew over the pollution of water and disruption of natural ecosystems. Loggers have been forced inward to preserve habitats. In fact, it’s against the law to cut within a hundred yards of water.

Certified Master Loggers

Researching a new series has taken me into a look of new and exciting places. I’ve touched bees, smoked hives, ventured into caves, discovered bones, was charmed by flower quilts, learn to forage natural herbs, and even made goat cheese! But never did I think I’d be taking a course in how to properly log timber.

The Kentucky Master Logger Program is an education program that teaches logging methods that benefit both industry and the forest. Created in 1992 by Jeff Stringer, this partnership program is conducted through the Uk Department of Forestry, Kentucky Division of Forestry, and Kentucky Forestry Industries and Association.

It’s illegal for a logger to cut without certification, which is 6 credits hrs of safety and instruction. Everything from how to safely transport logs over waterways, to building trusting relationships with landowners is covered. There is even a directory of licensed loggers registered on the Kentucky Master Logger website. I was surprised to find so many names I knew well, and see who was up-to-date and who wasn’t.

I was honored to be welcomed to sit in by Director Beth Williams. Beth was a former ranger with 20 years experience. She was also a lumber grader for many years, and that impressed me most of all, as it’s a hard skill to master. I sat at a small table in the back of a class of 30 loggers and 2 rangers. Rangers are required to take these courses as it is their duty to inspect logging sites and prevent bad actors from bending the rules. I had no clue Fleming County was so remote it didn’t have a ranger, but like Fish and Wildlife officers, I’m sure they see over districts too.

Loggers from young to old in a sea of baseball caps, denim shirts, hoodies, and beards filled the large room. Generational farmers and other’s whose income comes solely from Kentucky timber. Laced up boots tramped into the room, all giving me a kind nod as they took their seats. A few recognized me, as they still sale their logs to my father who at 83, still gets up each morning to put in a full day’s work, but said nothing more than a passing hello to me as they found a seat. During one of the breaks, a gentleman a few seats ahead of me, hummed. It was a lovely sound, a mix of an old church hymn and something straight out of a James Still book. I could imagine him logging a lonely hillside, his Appalachian sound echoing through the hollers.

I filled a notebook with facts and information about timber thief, safety, and water quality. Water is key to these programs, thus the changing of an industry to keep on keeping on, without disrupting water flow and ecosystems. It’s a huge change from logging in my great-grandfather’s day to today. After I returned home the second day, I took a few moments to scan the heavy binder each one us were given. I had no idea how many endangered species were in my area or how awesome skidder bridges were in preventing sediment into streams. Some of this may seem boring to you, but when I do get to writing this series, these details will certainly matter.

All in all, it was a worthy course, chockfull of great information, and I was blessed to takeaway a few good stories from some of the loggers too.