Rite of Passage

December 26th, 2007 | webmaster | Memory Lane

By Larry Simmons

After reading Joyce Walters’ article ‘Working in Tobacco – A Positive Experience’ in the August issue of the Advisor, I couldn’t help but add my own observations to the memories her writing evoked. In the 1960’s, I always thought it strange to hear a ‘city kid’ talk of working in a grocery store or mowing lawns to earn money during the summer vacation from school.
After all, if you lived in the country, there was only one summer job and that was working in tobacco. I also never got used to the term ‘barning tobacco’ since my family always referred to harvesting as ‘putting in tobacco’ which wasn’t grammatically correct, but we knew what it meant.

During my years of working in tobacco, I always felt there was a sort of hierarchy that existed in the jobs you were asked to perform. Those hired to perform each job were usually selected by age, maturity, work ethic and for certain jobs, by gender. As I remember, the required list of skills necessary to put in a barn of tobacco consisted of one or more tractor drivers, barn help, handers, stringers, hangers and croppers. Stringing, cropping and hanging were jobs that required a certain level of skill, dexterity and endurance, so older teenage boys, girls and adults were usually asked to fill these positions. I don’t really know if the young ladies who worked in tobacco felt they had a ladder of succession to ascend in order to reach the higher paying jobs, but the boys definitely did. Handing, unloading drags, carrying full sticks of tobacco to the hanger and generally keeping things straightened up under the shelter were tasks that could be performed by younger children.

At the barn, unless you were still an infant, there was a job for you. Children who were too young to perform any of the aforementioned jobs picked up leaves that fell off the benches or those that were dropped from the drags. They kept sticks arranged for the stringers and occasionally raked up the stems and pieces of leaves that accumulated on the ground during the day. Handing (you know, handing leaves to the stringers) was one of my least favorite jobs and yes I started out having to stand on a soft drink crate to reach the bench. The worst part about handing besides having a fussy stringer, was that every time you neared the end of your pile of tobacco, someone would bring another huge pile and drop it in front of you. The pile would often be high as your shoulders and you would have to reach up to grab the leaves. That was very tiresome for young handers but it probably built up your muscles. Some boys liked to hand because they could stay at the barn and flirt with the girls, but I always thought it was a kid’s job and never cared much for it. Sometimes, you would have a stringer who only wanted a certain number of leaves in each handful or they wanted them held a certain way so she wouldn’t grab your hand when reaching for them. Another thing
about handing that I never liked, especially as a youngster, was that it normally paid less than the jobs performed by the older boys and adults.

When I became old enough to be asked to crop, I felt somewhat flattered that I could now prove my manhood and command the respect that was due those who had reached this pinnacle. Well, my experience as a cropper turned out to be not that great. Not only was I very slow, I quickly realized that working conditions at the barn were much better than in the field. Most folks started ‘putting in’ shortly after daybreak while the tobacco was still wet with dew, so your clothes were soaked after a short time in the field. As the hot morning sun began beating down upon my back, I understood the wisdom behind starting work so early. Your clothes quickly dried out but then the tobacco gum would start accumulating on your hands and clothes as a black, sticky covering that caused everything you touched to stick to your hands. Cropping also required some unique skills such as walking long distances while bent over at the waist, running one hand around the stalks of tobacco removing what you hoped were only ripened leaves and balancing yourself with a bundle of leaves tucked under your free arm. Cropping methods were as varied as the people performing them. Some cropped while walking backward, some crawled and others were so slow they required
help to keep up with the other croppers. I am naturally right-handed but cropped left-handed, carrying my bundle of leaves under my right arm. It was hard work and I definitely was not a sought after cropper in the community.

Another job usually performed by an adult was hanging (placing the sticks of tobacco on evenly spaced parallel two by fours called tier poles in the barn). This required the balance of a gymnast, no fear of heights and a fair amount of strength to hoist the sticks of green tobacco from the ground up onto the tier poles of the barn. I’m still amazed at how much tobacco some stringers could put on a stick because they would almost lift me off the tier poles when I pulled them up into the barn. When first starting to fill a barn, someone would usually stand on the lower tier poles and hand the sticks up to another hanger who was near the top of the barn. I worked two seasons as a hanger for my great uncle and hung every stick of tobacco during that time entirely by myself. Believe me, it’s no fun climbing up and down those tier poles filling the top of a barn. I was truly relieved to get the top of the barn filled and be able to stand in one spot for a while. A short break for a soft drink and snack helped to rejuvenate everyone and it gave me a chance to get out of that hot barn for a few minutes. After the barn was filled, everyone would usually join in to clean up under the shelter, attempt to wash the gum off their hands and arms and say their good-byes until the next week.
I’ll never forget the green stain that remained on my hands for several days even after I had washed them with everything imaginable.

All these memories seem far removed from the modern inventions that now perform these jobs. My grandparents would be appalled at the techniques that are used to harvest tobacco today. Probably no one would have thought that performing the menial tasks required to harvest a crop of tobacco forty years ago would have a lasting influence on our adult lives, but I beg to differ. From my perspective, I learned how to be a team member, to respect adults and elders, to help others in need and to follow instructions. I saw lifelong friendships form, relationships bloom between boys and girls and some even led to marriage. I saw folks of different races work side by side in genuine harmony and respect for each other. There were no stereotypes or profiling, just people working hard to earn an honest living. I watched children grow tall and strong and gain respect in the community as they accepted responsibility both inside and outside their immediate family unit. I learned that my elders valued a hard day’s work and a strong work ethic and that it was important to listen to their wise council. I secretly admired the perseverance and determination of my parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles and older adults in the community.

Recalling this period in time evokes different memories from each person who grew up this way, but that’s only the beginning of the story. The values gained by each of us would help to mold and shape an entire generation of young adults as they moved out, married and began to raise their own families. We harbor a sincere desire for our children to appreciate the sacrifices and life lessons that are important to us and those lessons learned in the tobacco patch are part of that process. As each of us earned our ‘rite of passage’ to progress from children’s job to adult jobs in the tobacco fields and barns of southeastern North Carolina, we continue to extend that same example to future generations that they might achieve even greater goals than we ever imagined.