I took a day-drive from Athens, GA to Madison, GA today with the Robinson family and on the way back I stopped by in a small post-industrial rural town called Bostwick. I’ve never heard of this place before and had no reference for its historical context, but it turns out that this sleepy pit-stop between cities was and still is a cotton-town!

While driving through, we stopped along the side of the road and met John Ruark of Ruark Farms. At first, I didn’t want to disturb him and his small crew as they operated heavy machinery in a cotton gin, but he saw me and my camera from afar and waved me in, telling me that I could virtually go anywhere in the facility undisturbed; I was shocked he wasn’t afraid of letting me in due to some sort of liability or safety concern.

**John Ruark of Ruark Farms**

Quality control checks at the Ruark Farms cotton gin

Inside the seemingly open-air facility, John casually led me through a tight maze of heavy machinery, all clanging and banging away loudly as cotton plants and seeds traveled through the machine lines and ultimately came out as giant compressed cotton clouds. The noise was deafening at times but the sight was incredible to witness (at least for this city boy!).

The final product at this cotton gin saw the freshly spun cotton tightly bound and bagged for shipment off to its next stop. Eventually, John tells me as he points to my sweatshirt, this cotton will become used in a number of textiles just like my clothes.

I witness John and his small team move nimbly through the factory, careful to keep perfect timing on certain machines to ensure quality control. Some of these men told me they had been working here for decades and that some of the machinery was more or less the same since the 1970’s.

Inside, cotton webs hung from every corner and light fixture and the sun lit up every cotton particle in the air. It was quite beautiful given the late time of day.

While the factory itself was a joy to walk through, the thing that stuck with me the most was just how seemingly trustworthy John and his team were with a random photographer showing up and deciding to photograph them at work without any prior notice. John trusted me and I am thankful he did.

Near the end of their work day, they powered down all their machines, closed up shop, and stood for one group photo. What a absolute joy to be connected to the people who make the cotton I use every day. As we all packed up to leave, John invited me back whenever I was in town — I think I’ll take him up on the offer!

Discovering Bostwick: My Unexpected Stop in Georgia

The last of the Meatpacking District holdouts

Here I go (again)