I was raised on a tobacco farm. The farm belonged to my great, great grandaddy. My dad was born in the house next door, where my grandparents still lived when I was born. My granddaddy was born in the big house in the field behind out house. It was still standing when I was little and we used to go and explore in it, but it was no longer liveable. My dad was the next to the youngest child out of 5 and the only boy. You would have thought that he and my granddaddy would have been really close, as he was the only boy, but I never got that impression. Dad had an agronomy degree from NCSU and he had lots of ideas on how he wanted to help to improve production on the farm, but my granddaddy was not open to suggestions. After a rocky couple of years (which I do not remember, as I was too young), Dad went to work with Cargill as a seed salesman. After a couple of years of that, dad returned to farming. It was the one thing that he truly loved. We grew tobacco, corn, soybeans and peanuts. Tobacco season consumed us. That will lead to several other blog topics at a later time. In all of dad’s confusion now, the one thing that stands out to him and he tells everyone that he sees, is that the farm is one of the few in NC that is an officially declared Centennial Farm (been in the same family for over 100 years). He has the documentation and plaque to prove it. When he gets around anyone, he will tell them about how there is going to be a presentation and a dinner to honor the farm (that actually happened about 30 years ago). We don’t correct him, we just tell him how wonderful that is and how proud we are. And that is the truth!
My Dad’s Farm
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