Wayne Seidl on wed 24 may 06
Sheron and all:
I, like many of my friends grew up (in CT) going to work for the summer =
in
the tobacco fields in the Windsor area. CT used to be one of the =
leaders
for growing shade tobacco for cigar wrappers (the outside layer). Most =
of
that area is condos now. We were all "city kids".
At 11-15, the hardest part of my summer was going to work. Rain or =
shine,
get up at 4AM to go to the bus, work in the fields starting at 5:30 and =
done
by 4PM. Home by 5PM. 6 days a week. No time off for good behavior .
I was a picker. Fast and small. You got paid on how many baskets you
picked per day, paid weekly. No way to know if you got ripped off, but =
at
that age you didn't think about that. A whole $0.75 per hour, and an
incentive for over so many baskets per day, they called "piece work". =
You
had to really hustle to get piece work.
Basically, a picker grabs a basket (a rectangular plastic bin like a =
modern
recycle container), and goes to the end of a row. You sit down, legs in
front of you, basket between your legs, and pick the bottom two leaves =
from
the plant on your left, and the bottom two leaves from the plant on your
right. Scoot forward a bit, do it again...and again, and again. Each =
plant
was about 6 inches from the next. If you were lucky and had long arms, =
you
could do two or three plants on each side. Too hot, even though we were =
"in
the shade", which was basically shade fabric stretched over the rows. =
Temps
regularly got up to 100 or better in the rows. After a while, you just =
stop
sweating. Dries too quickly.
All of the "pickers" wanted to be "hangers". Those guys were the taller
ones, mid-late teens, that got to work in the barns. The baskets would =
come
in, and the teen girls (stitchers) would sew the stems together. Three
leaves in, three leaves out, facing each other. Once the leaves were
stitched, the boys would climb ladders and hang the tobacco bundles on =
long
poles that ran the length of the barn. Hundreds of poles, all =
horizontal.
We used to call the climbers "monkees". No, that wasn't a compliment =
.
Thinking about it now, that couldn't have much of a job, because it was =
up
and down a ladder all day; but at our age, we reasoned that at least you
were out of the sun, and got to talk to the girls. At 13, that was a =
big
deal . I never did get to be a monkey. I got a paper route at 15, =
and
that made me enough money to not have to work summers any more. Year =
round
income! What a deal!
I joke now with my partner that the reason I had such a nice butt was
because of all the exercise it got growing up skimming over rocks and =
dirt,
sticks, the occasional bees nest (swarming yellow jackets or ground
hornets...ow!) all summer for four years. Damn, that hurt, thinking =
about
it. We rode to the fields on a school bus and on the way home, a lot of =
the
kids would stand. You had to bring your lunch if you had any, they gave =
you
water if you were near enough to the truck (not often). Most of us =
brought
a canteen. I was one of the lucky ones. I got to put Koolaid in mine =
when I
remembered to buy it, and had the money.
My highest paycheck was $32 one week. I was in heaven that week. After =
my
folks took "room and board" of $20 per week (all the kids in our family =
that
were working paid the same to help out) I got a whole $12! Mom made me =
put
half of it into savings, but I had $6 to spend any way I wanted! WoW! I =
was
rich! LOL
Fond memories. Would I do it again? Not a chance .
Best,
Wayne Seidl
-----Original Message-----
From: Clayart [mailto:CLAYART@LSV.CERAMICS.ORG] On Behalf Of Sheron =
Roberts
=20
snip
I too grew up on a tobacco farm,
"handing" tobacco at the tender age
of 7, standing on a Coke crate so I
could reach the leaves on the bench
and be at the right height for the
"stringer" to take the leaves from my
hand. ANd like E, I have worked
every phase of the production, from
planting, through harvesting, to
carrying to market and watching
the auctioneers toss and rifle through
the piles of carefully "tied" tobacco
that we worked so hard to get neat
and straight, hanging on their
every word. Waiting for that shout
of "Sold!" to American or Lorillard
or whatever company was buying
that particular grade or color of the
"golden leaf."
snip
Sheron in the Tarheel State
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