Claire MacAllister, GPC Joint Enrollment Student, Fall 2006

Summers on a Tobacco Farm

Hot weather. Good home-cooked Southern cooking. Tobacco farms. The little country store. These are stereotype perceptions of the South, but in reality, they actually do symbolize our rural heritage. My mom’s childhood days on the farm display living proof of “good ole’ days” in the deep South.

During the summers from 1965-1969, my mom, her older sister Anna, and her younger brother Carl spent two to three weeks out of their summer vacation at their granddaddy’s farm near Tifton, Georgia. They went in the hottest time of the summer, July. No paved roads were to be seen anywhere. Gnats flew all over the place, annoying everyone. There was no way to stay cool outside in the scorching heat. Tobacco farms covered the area, including my great grandpa’s tobacco farm.

My mom and her siblings, as well as her younger cousin, Lynn, who lived at the farm, all assisted in the tobacco farming process for eight hours a day. Before the children were of any help, the tobacco would manually be picked off the stalks; workers would sit on a moving device with several seats on it that rode down in between the tobacco rows, and the workers picked off the tobacco leaves as the machine rode through. The machine then tied the leaves with twine on a wooden stick about three feet long. Once they were packed tight, the tobacco sticks were hung in the barn to cure, or dry out. Once the leaves dried so that they were crinkly, the excited children finally got the chance to help. Their job was to gather up the tobacco sticks from inside the barn and take them to the old abandoned house on the farm. Then they broke off the end of the twine and pulled the leaves off the stick. Since they got paid by the stick, a friendly competition evolved to see who could earn the most money. On average, each child ended up finishing about fifty sticks a day. (But in Lynn’s case, she was the most experienced and fastest because she grew up on that farm.). The kids then laid the tobacco on burlap sheets, and once there was enough tobacco to be sold, it was taken to the market.

After eight hours of strenuous work, the four kids were ready to finally take a break from the farm and enjoy some relaxation time at the house. During their lunch break, they headed over to the little country store, where my mom always got a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a grape Nehi (a grape soda in a bottle), which cost only ten cents. Furthermore, a candy bar was available for just five cents! In the evening, her Granny would cook a large meal, for example, fried chicken, biscuits, green beans, mashed potatoes, and of course, sweet tea. But before they ate, they needed to cool down, which, despite wearing shorts and tank tops outside, was hard to do because their air conditioning unit was rarely turned on, and all they had was fans that sat on the floor. The kids then took turns for their baths and were usually asleep by nine o’clock at night, which wasn’t surprising on account of their exhaustion. In the little spare time they did have, the kids swung on everyone’s favorite front porch swing or climbed trees.

Although homesick towards the end of the trip, my mom’s favorite parts were living the farm life, and spending time with loved ones. She absolutely adored being with her Granny, who would make everyone laugh by saying things like “Oops, I stepped on a frog.” My mom and her grandmother were sincerely close. My mom also loved working on the farm, not only because it made her feel useful, but also because she earned two cents a stick, which meant money for her; she would save up that hard-earned money to buy an Elvis record. Despite the good times, she cried when she was homesick. Even though she shared a room with her siblings in the house on the farm, it is normal for any eight-year-old to miss his or her mom and dad. Today, my mom continues to reminisce about her cherished memories of family and farm during the Tifton summer.