Spanish Moss = Okra

Spanish Moss = Okra

Daddy and Mother grew acres and acres of okra every year.  Men and women (often with children) came early in the morning and picked okra all day, acres and acres of it.  In the 60’s, they were known as ‘field hands’ while they were in the field.  When they weren’t working in the field, they were friends, classmates, acquaintances, and strangers.

Two days after picking the field of okra, the same field needed to be picked again.  Then it needed to be picked again in two days.  The field was picked three times per week.  I knew some of the field hands by name.  I played with Allie Mae’s daughter in the back of truck when she and I were allowed to do so.  David Taylor, Allie Mae’s husband, was Daddy’s right hand man and his good friend.  Scrappy was always in the field picking okra when it was ready to be picked. 

Each field hand took a bushel basket and picked the okra one by one, cutting or snapping the stem, and dropping the okra into the basket.  At the end of the day, the field hands would tell Daddy how many bushels they picked and he would pay each one according to how many bushels he/she picked.  Mother, Daddy, and the rest of us would take over.  The baskets were picked up from the field by my brothers and Daddy, beginning earlier in the day.  They were brought to the platform, a covered area next to Daddy’s shop, and the okra were dumped bushel by bushel the sorter.  We lined the sides of the chute, as soon as we were old enough to help, sorting by size and quality. Daddy or Mother often at the end, doing the last bit of sorting.  If the okra was sorted into the bushel baskets by grade properly, Daddy would receive a better price.  There were normally #2’s (large but edible), #1’s (the best of the best, small and tender), and culls (too big or too damaged).  On some occasions we would also grade out #3’s (between 2’s and culls).  I can’t imagine how many bushels of raw okra (the best way to eat it) we consumed over the years, while standing there grading okra.

Sometimes when Daddy would dump a bushel of okra into the grader, a big clump of moss would be revealed. Some of the field hands who were new to the area would fill the bushel basket ¾ of the way to the top, scoop out a hole in the center, fill the hole with a lot of Spanish moss, then top it off with okra.  Because okra is light in weight and only the center had moss, no one could tell that a bushel had moss until it was dumped. 

Daddy had to make a new rule.  He would only pay for baskets that had the picker’s initials on the side.  After the bushel was filled, the picker would take a large okra leaf, ball it up, and use it to mark his/her initials on the side.  This stopped the theft.  (Taking money for work a person didn’t do, using trickery to make it look as if he/she had done the work, is simple theft.)

I imagine that there are few people who look at Spanish moss hanging from a tree and automatically think of okra!

Bushel Basket

If anyone has a photo of grading okra, picking okra, or a more appropriate photo that you'd like to share, please let me know!  edith@buyabutterfly.com

Aerial view of the farm. The long white building is the tractor shed. The platform was part of the tractor shed.