I live about 20 minutes from Amelia, and have taken many a ride through that part of the country. Simply gorgeous. I'm also a history/Civil War junkie, which that area is also famous for. Little tidbit: Thelma Warriner's roots in that area spanned many generations. Her grandfather, Powhatan Bledsoe, was actually a Confederate Surgeon in the 32nd Virginia Infantry Regiment. The stories must have been incredible.

I have lived in this scene has been lived many times as a kid at my Grandparents' in Chireno, Texas. Difficult for a stranger to discern friend from family (a great feeling!). Thank you Shorpy!

I believe that's a clothespin bag hanging on the screen door handle.

I've been coming to Shorpy for years but I finally registered for this photo. It brings back so many memories of visiting my great-grandmother in Live Oak, Fl., a rural area. My dad, her grandson, helped build her house along with some of the other men in the family. We had dinners there just like this. There was a washer on her porch, too. My brother and I thought the washer was just for show but she actually used it. Only one room in her house had a window AC unit. After the meal, the women would wash dishes and the cousins would run and play outside until it was pitch dark. Not a TV, phone, computer or video game in sight. Wow.

I also remember looking in the sugar bowl and there were a few ants in it. She called them sugar ants. Her house was spotless but those ants really freaked me out.

The wringer washer isn't the only appliance to be kept on rural porches. Many food freezers, both upright and chest were placed there as well.

As with all the other commenters, this photo brings back memories of my childhood.

Being a city boy, I never had the opportunity to experience much "outdoor" dining like the folks here, but I did notice that except for one lady, all the men are around one table, and the ladies have their own group.

Sunday dinner at my grandparents' house was mandatory, and all the men sat at one end of the long dining room table, the women at the other. We kids, of course, had our own table in the kitchen, and were not allowed at the "grown-up" table until you reached a certain age. It was a big moment in my life when, at about the age of 13, my grandfather, who always sat at the head of the table, told me I could sit "with the men". I sat next to my dad, who beamed with pride at my inclusion.

My God! How I miss those Sunday dinners!

What are those iron pots doing in front of the screen door? And is that plastic over the door to keep the chill out?

This is a hypnotizing time portal.

[Those are galvanized steel washtubs. - Dave]

I'd have gotten up to give one of the ladies on the glider, a chair that wouldn't be such a difficult thing to get out of, once the meal was done.

I can taste that late afternoon as I peer into this moment captured on film, and I know how the evening will approach. Soon, everyone will polish off what they can eat, and the hostess will offer pie, or maybe home made ice cream. The folks will clear off the mess, the men will stow away the tables, and they'll sit and chat into the coming dusk with the lightning bugs as company. Then, goodbyes are said all around, they pile into their cars, and in a moment, all that are left are the Millers and the Warriners. And as Marvin and Thelma say their goodbyes and take the short walk through the field to their farmhouse, the last golden strands of sunlight drain away from the sky.

The frozen pipes Lectrogeek mentions wouldn't be an issue here, as this machine has no plumbing.

Grandma heated water on the stove and carried it in buckets to this washing machine, which did nothing but agitate. After agitation, Grandma ran all the clothes through the wringer to squeeze out and save the hot soapy water. Then all the clothes were rinsed in a tub of cold water and went through the wringer again. After all the clothes were washed, whites first, the soapy water was simply drained out onto the ground.

Our family's farmhouse, in Callahan, Florida, was much like the one in this photo, complete with the washer on the back porch. Now a dryer has joined its replacement there. In the days of drying clothes on a line in the back yard, it was a shorter trip that way.

Things I didn't like about those Sunday dinners: having to kill the chickens beforehand; shelling peas on the porch beforehand; when the preacher was a guest; and the inevitable dessert made of Jello with whipped cream and marshmallows in it. Pineapple upside-down cake or pecan pie was more to my liking.

We had the glider and the metal chairs, and, as Bob Wilson recalls, they had thick layers of paint. Good times!

I've been reading this site for years but never commented. I am originally from Tennessee and though I am in my late 30's I have very fond memories of family get togethers at my Grandparent's house. Their house was sort of like the one here above. They also had mostly 1940's-50's metal yard furniture which Grandad had painted with a million layers of paint so that once they started to chip there would be many colors to see underneath.

We too would move everything outside for occasional summer dinners, complete with paper plates and plastic silverware. Seeing this photo brings back a lot of very familiar sights, sounds and smells. I can look at it and just imagine that its late in the day yet still pretty hot. The humidity is high. I can imagine the air is filled with the sounds of a million insects buzzing away. Perhaps a slight summer breeze with a dramatic thunderstorm on the way for the evening.

I remember after dinner, which was usually something fried ( chicken, fish, or something like that along with any number of casseroles) we would sit around and tell stories and most of the time stories everybody had heard many times but we sat and listened like we had never heard them before.

After my Grandparents passed away that kind of era in our family ended. The metal furniture is now dispersed amongst all of us ( one is at my aunt's, a few at mom and dad's) and not too long after that I moved to California. Sometimes I really miss those days. People simply don't do those kinds of things anymore.

It's just a really comfy looking (and rusty) swing seat.

[Specifically, I think it's a glider bench. -tterrace]

Although I'm originally from Oklahoma, this image resonated with me--we had a back porch that sported a Maytag wringer machine, a ladder like that, and a galvanized bath tub we used about once a week, taking turns. This isn't likely to be a front porch--that would've had a glider or swing and a plant or two. This is the business end of the house.

I don't doubt that for some families in some communities, the washing machine on the porch was a form of conspicuous display, akin to the price tag on Minnie Pearl's hat. But I think there was a practical reason as well. It was notoriously difficult to use a wringer washer without getting water on the floor. For this reason, northerners usually put the washing machine in the basement, where there was probably a floor drain, and where the pipes would be protected from freezing.

Southern homes typically didn't (and still don't) have basements, as there is no frost line to dig footings beneath. You don't want to put the machine in the house, so you put it on the porch. You don't have to worry much about frozen pipes in that climate. There might be a few freezing nights per year; they are predictable. You can drain the pipes and the machine, or you can plug in a light bulb in there overnight to keep it warm.

Another overpowering Shorpy photo. I can smell the food and the country side. The friendship is obvious. Even the washing machine is strangely not out of place. I’ve been to places like this and they remain very special, but I don’t have the photo! Thanks again for this wonderful place!

My Southern roommate in college in the '50s explained why washing machines were placed on the front porch. To impress the neighbors, of course.

If I had to describe my "vision" of a farmhouse, it would be this. Porch loaded with stuff -- washing machine, laundry line, ladders, everyday needful things.