October 2025
JONESBORO, La. — Life has a funny way of working out sometimes. When I first moved to Ruston, deep in the heart of the piney woods of north Louisiana, I knew I was going to see my fair share of loggers and foresters around. Three houses down from mine is one of those foresters. I pass by the corporate office of Hunt Forest Products every day dropping my kids off at school, and one year my children’s baseball team was sponsored by Weyerhaeuser’s Ruston office. But for some reason it never really clicked with me that I would become real friends with a logger before I even realized he was a logger.
Inside This Issue
COVER: Backwoods Degree
JONESBORO, La. — Life has a funny way of working out sometimes. When I first moved to Ruston, deep in the heart of the piney woods of north Louisiana, I knew I was going to see my fair share of loggers and foresters around. Three houses down from mine is one of those foresters. I pass by the corporate office of Hunt Forest Products every day dropping my kids off at school, and one year my children’s baseball team was sponsored by Weyerhaeuser’s Ruston office. But for some reason it never really clicked with me that I would become real friends with a logger before I even realized he was a logger.
Article by Patrick Dunning, Associate Editor, Southern Loggin’ Times
SOUTHERN STUMPIN': Spotlight On: Bill Abbott
On September 2, Bill Abbott, retired owner of Abbott Log- ging Co., based in Millbrook, Ala., breathed his last, just nine days after his 83rd birthday. There’s not too many people left in the business who will remember Bill Abbott. Most of the people he ever worked with are long gone, and it’s been more than 20 years since he hung up his saw chaps for the last time. His company was never profiled in the pages of Southern Loggin’ Times. His was never a big-time operation, never a top producer, just a small business doing its best to barely get by, and losing ground most days. But it didn’t matter. To those who knew him best in his own little corner of the world, he was a giant of a man who left behind a legend and a legacy that will be remembered for generations. In that way, he might have been more representative of this thing of ours than most SLT cover stories.
Article by David Abbott, Managing Editor, Southern Loggin’ Times
FROM THE BACKWOODS PEW: Beach Bums
Most industrial companies have some sort of safety program. They often have their workers, who might be exposed to some hazard in the workplace, meet periodically to review actions and circumstances where they need to be alert, and thus safe in their work. The timber busi- ness is no exception, where employ- ees are constantly exposed to dangers from flying, slithering and crawling critters, plus extreme weather. But enough about why they love being foresters; they also have to be aware that occasionally they will face activi- ties where danger is present—and we all know how bad those paper cuts hurt, but the printer has to have paper! Besides the paper cuts, there are falling trees, heavy equipment, and chainsaws. Any of these can give you a bad day if you forget to treat them with respect.
INDUSTRY NEWS ROUNDUP
- As We See It: We’ve Been Here Before
- FMIC Agency Goes Independent
- Retired AL Leader Joel Moon Passes
- Domtar Shuts Down Grenada, Miss. Mill
- CLA Announes New Chairman
- “Mighty” Joe Young Left Timeless Legacy
- Senators Reintroduce Pine Beetle Act
- GP Invests $800m In AL River Cellulose
- Letter Asks Trump To Act Quickly
- EU Wood Pellet Use To Increase
- Trump, USDA To Kill Roadless Rule
- U.S.F.S. Supports Private Timberlands
- Drax Idling Operations In Arkansas
- Data Centers To Use Mass Timber
Up Close, Personal
SLT editor accidentally forms a close friendship with logger Ricky James
Article by Jessica Johnson, Senior Editor, Southern Loggin’ Times
JONESBORO, La. — Life has a funny way of working out sometimes. When I first moved to Ruston, deep in the heart of the piney woods of north Louisiana, I knew I was going to see my fair share of loggers and foresters around. Three houses down from mine is one of those foresters. I pass by the corporate office of Hunt Forest Products every day dropping my kids off at school, and one year my children’s baseball team was sponsored by Weyerhaeuser’s Ruston office. But for some reason it never really clicked with me that I would become real friends with a logger before I even realized he was a logger.
See, I’ve always prided myself (and by extension my stories) on digging into the heart of the matter, going beyond asking if a given operation has a Cat skidder or a Tigercat. Instead I choose to ask about the family, how old are the kids, what’s the outlook for the future. It has been a battle I’ve fought against since I first joined the staff at Southern Loggin’ Times. Do readers really want to know where someone buys their oil if it’s three states away? Or do they want to know why whoever it is running the crew got into logging? How the loader operator is a cousin or married to the owner’s sister and every Friday everyone cracks a cold beer and splits some chicken before knocking off for the week? I mean, that’s what I want to know when I read the stories that fill these pages.
But for some reason, my ability to see the obvious came back to bite me in the booty earlier this year. I was sitting at one of my boys’ basketball games next to one of my best friends and her family. This was not uncommon, as the Nomeys are like family to us, our boys being in the same grade at school, and playing all the sports possible together, having “spend the night” parties at both houses and generally being boys together. I’ve spent many a game huddled next to Brea cheering on our “Cougars.”
Her husband was coaching the team, and I happened to catch a glimpse of her father-in-law, who we all affectionately know as Pawpaw Ricky, wearing a Hunt Forest Products jacket. Mind you, I had lived in Ruston and been friends with the Nomey family for three years at this point. I’ve sat next to this man through tackle football, flag football, baseball and basketball. We both have a tendency to get a little bit rowdy when it comes to the boys playing sports and referees that perhaps can’t see things as well as we can up in the stands, but that’s not important. Point is, I have been around him a good bit. But for some reason it never came up what Pawpaw Rickey does for a living. When I saw the jacket, I just assumed he worked in the mill as an operator. I was wrong…embarrassingly wrong for the “Southern Loggin’ Times girl.”
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