Charleston Had It All (((( The Series ))) |
Charleston Had it All #36 Watermelon Harvest Time for Sept. 7, 2006 Mildred Reeves Burnett Meanwhile looking back to July 23, 1936—Elmer Babb had the honors of shipping the first carlot of watermelons of the season, according to Missouri Pacific Agent Oliver. They were prime 33-pound average White Dixie melons. Other melon growers expecting to ship the same week were Waller Sprague, William Ollie Lawrence, and George Ancel Simmons. 1 Elmer Babb, a noted farmer, was grandfather of Charleston’s Charlie Babb, who played pro football for Miami Dolphins. Waller Sprague, also a cotton ginner, was grandfather of Sprague Hearnes son of Robert “Bob” Hearnes—Charleston notable accountant. Simmons was grandfather of George Simmons whom many know for his gregarious ways. When he was a kid, George picked up many a watermelon for his grandfather, who lived in the Concord District. Sept 3, 1936 watermelon season topped 1400 carlots. Charleston was the largest shipping point for watermelons in the United States, according to Mr. Oliver. 3 There were also lots of watermelons shipped by train from Bertrand, Diehlstadt, and a great many from Blodgett. During the same era the depot at East Prairie was shipping beau-coos of watermelons. By first week of August watermelon fields and patches bustled with men, wading early morning dew. Bending down, they picked 25-30-40 pound melons within running leafy vines, until a truck was filled. As they labored through the fields they’d pick and pass watermelons to the field roads, making several piles for later loading. Day after day men toiled in the sultry summer sun hidden beneath straw hats and faded overalls, wringing wet with sweat running down their backs. They’d wipe dripping sweat from their faces with the long sleeves of the cotton shirts they wore to keep themselves from blistering or a handkerchief they’d stuffed in a pocket. Boys old enough to pick up a watermelon toiled alongside the men best they could. It was a tiresome back-breaking job. Around the fifties, young boys picking watermelons to earn a little money threw their shirts off to get a suntan. In the sixties teenage girls bent to pick watermelons wearing drab cotton shorts and long-sleeve shirts. Up through the late twenties and well into the thirties farmers drove mule teams to the Missouri Pacific freight yard—depot— pulling wagons loaded with watermelons for shipment to market, crunching coal-cinders covering the yard. There they pulled up behind lines of mules standing with wagons filled with watermelons waiting turn to unload onto cattle-cars. Now and then a mule raised its head to whinny causing other mules to whinny. Watermelons were shipped on cattle-cars in order the melons get air, likened to livestock. The cattle-cars sat on side-tracks to be hooked to trains later. There were numerous rows of sidetracks and roads between for loading. The main railroad tracks were open for coming and going of trains at all times. The freight yard hinted of green manure plopped by the mules. Mule odors mingled with the hot humid air brought an unpleasant barnyard smell. No one paid any mind. Occasionally Men at the train yard played a wagon- lifting game. Taking turns, they lifted a wagon as they filled it with watermelons. When a man could lift the wagon no longer, he was out of the game. One such occasion the last man left in the game was Mr. Pennybaker, a big man wearing faded overalls. Pennybaker positioned himself just right, gripped the back end of the wagon, and with all his might lifted it full of watermelons. Before farmers completed change-over from wagons to trucks there’d be both at the depot loaded with melons. Mules went out about World War Two. Finally small farm trucks, with wooden sideboards and tailgates, replaced wagons and mules entirely. Then trucks loaded with watermelons lined at the depot during melon harvest as much as 60 long, as did the wagons. I have learned there were cattle-cars on side-tracks strung from Charleston to Diehlstadt being loaded. When turn came to load the cattle car, the farm workers tossed melons assembly line fashion, one at a time, off the truck to the men in the cattle car, and onward to the last man, who was called the stacker. The stacker was a man who had a special knack to stack watermelons. The stacker stacked the melons three deep filling one end of the car, and then the other to near the middle, strawing the melons as he stacked. Across the back, he stacked melons filling in the center to the door. The door was closed and sealed by Mr. Oliver the agent. 1 Charleston Democrat- July 23, 1936 |