True grits: Edisto Island couple restore electric mill, revive way of life

  • Posted: Wednesday, January 19, 2011 12:01 a.m.
    UPDATED: Friday, March 23, 2012 12:31 p.m.
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Miller Greg Johnsman pours a 50-pound bag of Kentucky-grown corn into the hopper of his antique mill at Geechie Boy Market on Edisto Island.
Miller Greg Johnsman pours a 50-pound bag of Kentucky-grown corn into the hopper of his antique mill at Geechie Boy Market on Edisto Island.

Greg and Betsy Johnsman didn't just buy a mill, they were "entrusted" with it.

That's how he describes the purchase five years ago of a portable electric mill from a man in Saluda, who had it stored in his barn since 1963. The sale came with stipulations: that the mill be restored, used, seen by the public and never be sold again.

So after replacing some cast-iron parts with stainless steel ones to meet modern food-safety guidelines, Johnsman has a new home and future for "Geechie Boy Mill."

The old red mill sits on one side of the room inside a roadside market, also called Geechie Boy, off S.C. Highway 174 on Edisto Island. Since starting it up March 26 last year, their son's birthday, the mill has seen steady production turning corn into grits, meal and flour between its original 30-inch pink granite stones.

Customers include locals, tourists, mail orders, other markets and about 70 restaurants wise to the cachet of artisan food products.

"What is rare about this mill is that it's the only original, surviving electric mill in this state," Greg Johnsman says.

Save for the few stainless replacement parts, the mill is as it was built in 1945, including a 25-hp "bomb" of a motor driven by a 6-inch-wide canvas belt.

Also, Johnsman says, it holds the distinction of being the largest portable mill ever made. But at 1,700 pounds, "I don't find it very portable," he concedes.

Johnsman, 32, grew up Upstate in Powdersville. He learned the art of milling from Jack Brock, a third-generation miller. "He took me under his wings," Johnsman says.

That skill lay fallow as Johnsman went on to Clemson University, where he earned a degree in poultry science and a master's in agricultural education. He also met Betsy, 33, at Clemson before entering graduate school.

"I got my wife and another piece of paper, so it was worth it," says Johnson, smiling.

The couple eventually came to Edisto, where Betsy's father, Adair McKoy, has been a commercial tomato farmer for 30 years.

Five years ago, her family encouraged Johnsman to pursue his passion. "You love to mill, why don't you?" they told him.

Brock, his mentor and "a small group of old retired guys wanted to help a young person," says Johnsman. They helped him locate the mill and persuade its owner to let it go.

"It was an undertaking to dig it out of his barn," says Johnsman.

He took the mill back to the original manufacturer, Meadows Mills in North Carolina, for restoration and refitting work. At Meadows, in business since 1902, "The entire factory floor walked out to see the separator," Johnsman says.

The wooden separator consists of three screens that sift the ground corn into flour, cornmeal and grits. Johnsman says what remains amounts to chicken feed.

The corn he uses is an heirloom flint "dent" variety -- every kernel is marked by a dent. Johnsman says it's a harder-type corn that shatters into more even pieces and has a naturally sweeter flavor than modern corn.

He's pleased with his "high-end" source in Kentucky. He attributes the quality to using only the middle kernels on the cob, from removing the nub at the base of each kernel and from it being "certified bug free."

The Johnsmans are milling about 2,000 pounds of corn a week. The products are sold in 2-pound bags to the public and 25-pound bags to restaurants.

However, the old mill is capable of much more -- 20 bushels an hour. A bushel is 53 pounds. "We can't keep up with that," he says.

Because demand is greater for grits, Johnsman sells his surplus cornmeal for mash to make "white lightning" -- distillery-made moonshine, that is.

"If not for that, I would be overrun with cornmeal," he says.

Working with the mill has revealed the "improvements" made by Johnsman's predecessor. Every mill runs differently, so millers were apt to add something here and there to better its operation.

"I know what this nail does. ... The miller before, he has left his hand on it. I understand why he did little things."

Mills were a vibrant part of rural life, Johnsman says, a natural meeting place that brought the community together.

That the couple is able to revive milling on Edisto Island is a "God-given blessing," Johnsman says. "It's important to me to keep all the agricultural history.

"A lot of the locals will come in and thank us for preserving a lost way of life," adds Betsy. "People come in and have never seen a piece of equipment like this."

Teresa Taylor is the food editor. Reach her at 937-4886.