I’ve spent some time traveling down rows of tobacco. In freshly plowed ground, I’ve struggled to keep my balance as I lugged a pressure sprayer filled with insecticide. At other times, I’ve walked, almost leisurely, with a hoe in my hands as I looked for stubborn weeds or grass. Then, again, I’ve walked briskly down the rows topping tobacco trying my best to keep up with the torrid pace set by my late father. He could take two rows at a time, topping with both hands, and never seem to slow down. And I have cut and spiked tobacco in rows that seemed to grow longer by the minute.
But my favorite recollections of tobacco rows were of the times when I was a small boy, probably 10 years old. That was a time when a boy was expected to help, but not to carry the full responsibility of an adult.
I remember the days before sucker control, the days before MH-30 and later, Royal MH-30. Anyone familiar with tobacco knows that three suckers appear in the top of a tobacco plant soon after it is topped (when the terminal bud is removed.) And when those three suckers are removed the plant will “sucker” from top to bottom.
As growth inhibitors, the MH-30 family of sucker control products; under proper conditions, brought sucker grown to a halt. But they also slowed the growth of the tobacco plant.
In the early days of sucker control products, my father felt he got the most growth from his tobacco if we removed the initial top suckers after topping before he applied MH-30. It meant more work, but it made for longer top leaves in the tobacco plants.
Needless to say, we pulled a lot of suckers in my growing up years. In the years prior to the arrival of MH-30, there were times when we were forced to pull suckers from top to bottom.
As a boy, I got the job of crawling down the row and pulling the bottom suckers. There is a world unto itself near the ground in a patch of mature tobacco.
Hidden under a canopy of big, broad, drooping tobacco leaves, you could barely see the sky. Except in the hottest weather, the ground was cool and moist, made more so by suckers removed in earlier days. Sometimes suckers, fading from green to pale yellow, almost covered the ground. It made for a smell unique to the tobacco world.
And then, there was the soil; deliciously soft and brown, giving up an occasional flint rock or arrowhead – soil which had a rich, clean smell about it. It was the kind of dirt that felt good in your hands as you rubbed off accumulated tobacco gum.
One year, after a prolonged dry spell, my father opted to “prime” one particular patch of tobacco. Down the rows my brothers and I went, removing the brown leaves from the bottom of each stalk of tobacco. As we worked along, we created piles of leaves at varying intervals. Later, the leaves were picked up and moved to the tobacco barn for spreading out or stringing up. That year, I was just the right size for the job. It was the only time I remember when working in tobacco was fun.
Of course, working in tall tobacco when you are a boy has another advantage. Because no one can see you, they don’t know exactly where you are. So, you can slip in a little “rest” now and then. My brothers contended I was really good at taking breaks in tall tobacco. Of course, I accused them of the same.
Those were good days. A boy came out of the tobacco patch at quit‘en time with ground-in dirty on his knees and on the heels of his hands. Tired bodies made for the best sleep.
I learned many life lessons down those tobacco rows. Sometimes when I think back on those days, I can smell the musty earth and feel the soft dirt in my hands.
Copyright 2017 by Jack McCall
