06/01/2022
A slightly different post for Sam Terry's Kentucky, one that isn't about a specific person, event, or date. Instead, a visit to the past for those who grew up on family farms and worked in the to***co patch.
Lessons Learned in a Kentucky To***co Patch
By Sam Terry, IV
Sam Terry's Kentucky
In years past nearly every young person who grew up with a connection to a farm in Kentucky spent some time in the to***co patch. By my own recollection, some of the best lessons in life were given under blue skies surrounded by what was then Kentucky’s top cash crop. In the past few decades, the significant role of to***co has diminished for many families as the crop is raised by fewer farm families whose numbers have also dwindled.
Too many young Kentuckians of today have missed out on some valuable lessons as they participate in the evolution of a year’s to***co crop from the old-fashioned burning of plant beds to eventually end with the melodic chant of an auctioneer in a local warehouse. In years gone by, farm families worked together through the process and along the way, created memories to last a lifetime. When there weren’t enough workers to accomplish the task, neighbors and relatives frequently pitched in.
If you are of a certain age, you remember the work of burning a bed in which to sow to***co seeds, a process that was later replaced with chemical gases that were eventually replaced with hydroponic methods of obtaining young seedlings. There were lessons to be learned pulling young plants in preparation for being set in freshly-worked soil.
Kentuckians of all ages heard stories worthy of sharing while riding a to***co setter being pulled by a slow-paced tractor moving in straight lines to yield beautiful rows that would make any farmer and his family proud. It wasn’t unusual for school-aged children to miss a few days of school in order to get the crop out, in fact, it was standard procedure for many Kentucky families. I suspect that some of the lessons learned on those days might have proven more valuable than the ones being taught in their classrooms.
When spring days gave way to the hot and muggy days of summer, many young Kentuckians spent their days with a hoe in hand chopping weeds among those precious plants. When the plants produced suckers, the workers endured the sticky residue of the to***co plants. When the striking pink blooms appeared, those same folks again waded through the by-then-tall plants to top the to***co.
It was during the to***co-growing process that youngsters learned about worry and came to realize that there are some things beyond human control. Humankind found ways to control insects, but there was the ever-present worry about disease or hail storms that could devastate a family’s crop in a short amount of time.
Finally, in the waning days of summer, young Kentuckians returned to the to***co patch to bend the huge plants and with a smart whack, cut it from now-thick trunks before spearing it onto wooden to***co sticks. Anyone who participated in the cutting of to***co quickly learned the dangers of to***co knives and spears and more than a few still have the scars to prove the lesson they learned.
The most agile young Kentuckians shimmied up wooden poles and across tiers in to***co barns where they methodically hung the prized plants for curing as yet another part of the process. By the time Thanksgiving arrived, provided weather conditions were favorable, to***co would be sufficiently cured and ready for stripping by hand in yet another series of lessons to be mastered.
Soon, it would be off to market buoyed with the hope of a good price per pound. If a family was lucky, there would be enough money to pay off bills or loans, improve the family home, assure another semester at college, or perhaps give a special gift at Christmas. Young men learned that the hopes of purchasing a first car or buying that special young lady a diamond ring were tied up in the once-green leaves of to***co.
To***co was the king of crops in Kentucky just as cotton was for our neighbors to the south. To***co provided for our families’ needs, paid for our education long before scholarships and financial aid packages became the norm, and it taught everyone about life.
In recent years human rights groups have reported that youngsters working in to***co were exposed to health hazards. They have cited details from young people working in to***co in Kentucky, North Carolina, Virginia, and Tennessee. One group noted one young man’s report that “conditions are inhumane and they should improve them.”
One author of a report on to***co and the labor used to produce it, wrote that “the U.S. has failed America’s families by not meaningfully protecting child farmworkers from dangers to their health and safety, including on to***co farms.”
That group later announced that they would encourage state and federal legislation that would prohibit anyone under the age of 18 from doing work that involves touching to***co. In addition to complaints that youngsters were exposed to ni****ne and various irritants, working in the crop was risky because it involved using sharp tools such as knives and spears, involved heavy lifting, and working at heights.
Needless to say, our standards have changed but I maintain that Kentucky to***co farmers and the children they reared were rarely harmed by hard work to earn an honest living. The life lessons taught in Kentucky to***co patches helped produce some of our state’s most authentic individuals. The monies earned raising to***co provided for Kentucky families. Thousands of parents were able to help their children fulfill their dreams through education and earned opportunities because of to***co.
Perhaps what is missing from this scenario is the fact that none of the individuals expressing concern about young people working in to***co actually grew up in a Kentucky to***co patch and they unfortunately did not learn about life and hard work that it is slightly different from the descriptions found in textbooks.
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