Through the miracle of email, today I have for you a wonderful story about the Radford family and their generations of great gardeners. Enjoy!
Looking Back
By Elizabeth Mitchell
Some of my fondest memories are those when I was a child. Being one of seven children in a two-bedroom house, we were very close. My father was a disabled WWII veteran, and my mother held down a full-time job to provide for us. Things were tight raising seven kids and believe me, appetites were growing as quickly as we were. My dad raised pigs that were butchered in the winter and stored in the can house. Unlike today's packaged meats, ours was cut up and laid out on shelves. Dad always slayed the salt to it for preserving, which kept it fresh all winter. I've yet to find any tastier bacon and rendered cracklings--great for bread sopping'--as what we had.
Looking back, although we weren’t starving by any means, my dad planted huge gardens. Yes, more than one. We had three just about every summer. It was always a ritual to get called out of bed every Saturday morning to go work in the gardens all day. Unlike most kids our age, we hardly ever got the opportunity to watch television on Saturdays.
We planted fields of potatoes; this main staple food was cooked every day in some shape or form. We had cabbage, corn, beans, turnips, hanovers, carrots, beets, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, peppers, radishes, parsnips, cucumbers, squash and pumpkins. It took all seven of us, along with Mom and Dad, to complete the task of plowing, planting, hoeing and weeding the gardens. I remember a lot of times we had lunch in the garden, sampling all the fresh, crisp veggies, but by sundown we were exhausted and couldn't wait to go to bed.
We had plenty of good eating in the summer. We loved having roasted corn and potatoes in the open fire on a breezy summer night. When harvest time came, my mother would can most of the beans, tomatoes, beets and carrots. The vegetables were very rewarding in the winter months, and you could appreciate all the hard work that went into it. The vegetables that weren’t canned were what my dad called 'Holed.' This was a procedure where you dig a 3-foot, circular crater hole in the garden and put down a bed of straw. The vegetables were placed on the straw, then tarped over and mounded until heaping with dirt. In the winter, you could go out and dig in the side of the mound with a shovel, which sometimes was hard to do, especially when the ground was frozen. With a flashlight in one hand, you would reach into the hole and pull out vegetables. We mostly holed the potatoes, cabbage, turnips, green tomatoes, pumpkins, and hanovers. They kept all winter in the hole that maintained a 50-degree temperature, and tasted fresh-picked. I often wonder if anyone still uses this type of storage.
Now that my parents are gone, my brothers and sisters have continued to traditionally plant a garden of their own, with their children and grandchildren. Although I think it's slowly fading out with the next generations, I hope one of my three children keeps gardening going. Just recently I printed a free, 'Park Seed Planter's Guide' for my daughter as a Christmas gift. I believe she will use it and grow her own story someday.
I am endebted to Elizabeth Mitchell for preparing and sharing this fascinating look at her childhood gardening experiences and techniques. That's Elizabeth and her sisters in the picture at the top of the post, and the other picture shows her hard-working parents. If you have great gardening memories to share, please send them to me at ckuhl@parkseed.com. We love hearing from you!