The last day of tobacco season

Growing up in eastern North Carolina where tobacco really was king, my family relied heavily on its cash-crop potential. I dreaded tobacco season because it meant being subjected to the intense summer heat almost daily. I do, however, have one pleasant memory: the closing day. The atmosphere was always different that day. Barn hands laughed and joked more, and kids were bribed to run errands they were big enough to do. My dad would leave the barn while the rest of us were finishing up. When he returned he would have at least two 5-gallon tubs of ice cream, one vanilla and one strawberry.

There would be enough for every worker and all the children to eat to their hearts’ content. Imagine being a child on that day, not having to ask for just one more scoop, but getting a heaping bowlful on the first serving and being offered more just because.

There was not a pump, faucet or well in the area, so I’m not sure anyone except whoever dipped the ice cream washed hands before we ate. But that did not matter. We were in ice cream heaven on that one day.

Jacqueline Dove-Miller, Youngsville, Wake Electric

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