I had decided definitively to let any further mention of
tobacco to be left behind forever. But
as my memory churned and after I checked with my sister (Ivy then- Iva now) to
make sure I was not hallucinating, one more scene screams for telling.
Tobacco as already said was THE CASH CROP. There was no room
for getting it wrong. One season the
sporadic cold days threw off the stripping activity. There were days when our
fingers we so cold our tied tobacco hands were sloppy and loose. Auction day
was approaching and there were unstripped stalks.
Daddy whose fear he would not get the crop to market on time
moved the tobacco into the house. He moved the living room furniture aside and
set up the stripping table. We worked
tirelessly all morning, all afternoon and into the evening. We were in sight of
success a knock came on the door. Mommie answered. Two neighbors had brought
meat from the heifer they butchered that day. Mommie was humiliated by the
sight of tobacco trash, tobacco hands, tobacco dust on our living room floor.
Mommie got over it. The tobacco made it to the auction. We
had the money from our CASH CROP.I am now done with tobacco.
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