life in a red state 211week,” one store offered without warning, and then another. Not the next
week either, nor the next. A tomato is not a thing that can be put on hold.
Mountains of ripe fruits piled up behind the packing house and turned to
orange sludge, swarming with clouds of fruit fl ies.
These tomatoes were perfect, and buyers were hungry. Agreements
had been made. But pallets of organic tomatoes from California had be-
gun coming in just a few dollars cheaper. It’s hard to believe, given the
amount of truck fuel involved, but transportation is tax- deductible for the
corporations, so we taxpayers paid for that shipping. The California grow-
ers only needed the economics of scale on their side, a cheap army of
pickers, and customers who would reliably opt for the lower price.
As simply as that, a year of planning and family labor turned to red
mush.
Our growers had been warned that this could happen—market buyers
generally don’t sign a binding contract. So the farmers took a risk, and
took a loss. Some of them will try again next year, though they will likely
hedge their bets with Delicata squash and peas as well. Courage, practi-
cality, and making the best of a bad situation are much of what farming is
about. Before the tomatoes all rotted away, Appalachian Harvest found a
way to donate and distribute the enormous excess of unpurchased pro-
duce to needy families. The poor of our county were rich in tomatoes that
summer.
“We were glad we could give it away,” one of the farmers told me. “We
like to be generous and help others, that’s fi ne, that’s who we are. But a lot
of us are barely making ends meet, ourselves. It seems like it’s always the
people that have the least who end up giving the most. Why is that?”
In Charlottesville, Asheville, Roanoke, and Knoxville, supermarket
shoppers had no way of knowing how much heartache and betrayal might
be wrapped up in those cellophane two- packs of California tomatoes.
Maybe they noticed the other tomatoes were missing this week, those lo-
cal ones with the “Healthy Farms, Close to Home” label. Or maybe they
just saw “organic tomatoes,” picked them up, and dropped them into their
carts on top of the cereal boxes and paper towels. Eaters must understand,
how we eat determines how the world is used.
They will or they won’t. And the happy grocery store music plays on.