Most importantly, L.L. Draughon (pronounced “drawn”) was my great-grandfather. Lyman Latham was a gentle man, in every sense of the word, who ran this farm in its first heyday – the period when mules gave way to tractors. L.L. lived off the farm in the little town of Whitakers, about seven miles away, but drove a carriage pulled by a horse named Joe out to the farm each day to oversee the goings-on of the farm. His noon-time nap was taken in the small room upstairs that is now the office of the cider company.
The husband of a devout Methodist, he was unlikely to have made any hard cider, but then just how many pies could great-grandma make from all those apples?