BENNINGTON (Vermont) BANNER

October 19, 2007

Jamaican hands harvest local fruit

JOHN WALLER, Staff Writer

BENNINGTON — Apple pie, doughnuts, pumpkin pie and apple cider line the shelves of the red barn that welcomes tour buses and tourists to Vermont each fall. At first glance, the barn is quintessential Vermont, but high up on nearby Carpenter Hill, where apple trees touch the sunset, a group of Jamaicans harvests the fruit synonymous with fall in the Green Mountain State.

By mid-October, the crew of 50 men has been reduced to eight, as most returned to their tropical home with the fall's first chill. Although it's a warm fall day, the men wear winter hats, fleece jackets and heavy pants as on Thursday they bend to pick the strawberries and raspberries that remain in a small field below the barn.

On Thursday, the men pick what may be the last berries of this season, as the first frost will soon come and burn what remains. These men, however, who arrive in March, will stay until December, long after the tourists, who snap pictures and videotape the Jamaicans from the parking lot above, have gone home.

"Farming's the greatest to me. It's what I like," said Trevor Francis, a 53-year-old life-long farmer who goes by the name, "Chapper." "All things come from the earth, you know?"

Francis says the only language he speaks is English, but when he begins to talk with his fellow workers, the English he speaks is incomprehensible at times to the American ear. Most would consider his language a Creole, a language that is a mix of so many different languages, it has eventually become its own. Most have said the Jamaican language is built out of the island's diverse past, full of trade, wars, slavery and colonialism.

These men who work at Southern Vermont Orchards, which supplies The Apple Barn on Route 7 in Bennington, have been coming back now for a number of years, some since 1980, others since 1988, 1990 and 1999. All of the men entered an agriculture program through Jamaica's Ministry of Labor. The program then randomly places the men in American farms when orders come in for work.

If the men earn the trust of their employer, they can be asked back year after year until age ends their working careers. Although the eight Jamaicans who live together in a trailer on the orchard come from all over their island, their motivation for leaving home is the same: They all dream of a better future for their kids.

"I hope my kids do better work, more educated work, because this work is rough," said Nehemiah O'Connor, a 59-year-old who wore a red-hooded sweatshirt with a picture of Grumpy, from "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs."

O'Connor, who is unsure of where he acquired his Irish last name, said he has 33 children, ages 10 to 44.

Francis, who has come to the orchard from St. Catherine, Jamaica, for 17 years, described his daily phone call home to his wife and kids as "the best thing in life." He said that when he was young he used to work with a machete and pick axe; now he gets the pride of seeing his children work on computers.

"I always say I don't want them to be like me," said Francis, all of whose kids have attended college in Jamaica. "I tell them, 'I brought you in, I should have full responsibility to make sure you're taken care of.'"

Francis, who got the name, "Chapper," working in an auto-body shop as a kid, said he has always wanted to go scuba diving in Jamaica or go to church on Sundays in Vermont, but his work has taken the priority in his life and he is completely dedicated to it.

Alrton Ellison, who has a child who works for the government in Jamaica, said he to works hard to make sure his children get the proper education. "I think they should do something, get more qualifications, do something like that," he said. "I do this for them."

The only thing the men seem to do other than work, eat and sleep is watch, "Law and Order." All of them said it was their favorite show, and they watch it in their trailer every night.

Francis, a former sugar cane harvester in Florida, said he doesn't know when he will retire. Every day he worries that an accident or sudden disease could strip him of his life's work and financial income.

"Affliction can happen anytime," he said. "You never know what tomorrow is going to bring, and this program is not going to help you because you need to be strong and healthy to work."

The career-ending moment Francis fears may have been experienced by one man in the group in late August, proving the sacrifices these men make go well beyond the long hours of planting and picking far away from home.

Easton Baker, 56, almost died on Aug. 28 when the tractor he was riding flipped over, nearly crushing him underneath. With his foot still in a bright purple cast and a blood clot in his chest preventing him from flying home, Baker said he is not sure if he'll ever be able to do this kind of work again.

Baker, who wears a Boston Bruins hat, an unbuttoned purple Hawaiian shirt and gray sweat-pants, was driving a tractor on Carpenter Hill Road, which weaves between the apple trees, when a fallen tree and oncoming car forced him to swerve the tractor off the road and into a ditch.

"I'm so lucky to be around today," said Baker, leaning on his crutches. "I jumped off just in time."

Baker, who has worked at the orchard since 1980, spent two weeks in the hospital after his accident and still visits the doctor five days a week to make sure his body is healing properly. Although he knows the injury could cause a financial strain on his family of a wife and seven kids, he has been able to accept it.

"We are human, things have to happen to us," said Baker, who believes that as the man of the house he is responsible to provide for his family. "No one knows what happens until it happens; if they did, it wouldn't happen. Life is a mystery, what can you do?"

All of the men appeared to share Baker's philosophy on life: It is what it is.

Elvis Poreman, a goat, pig and vegetable farmer in Jamaica, said November and December are challenging months for him and the other workers. "The only problem is when times get cold; cold is not my friend," said Poreman, 47, "but you know you got to work with the system."

Francis shared his fellow worker's sentiment. "It gets a wicked, wicked freezing," he said.

As for the masses of tourists who travel to the barn and often watch them pick: "They want to get the cheese and the syrup," Francis said. "Sometimes you have to turn sideways to get by people in the store. I've never seen anything like this before."

The most striking of the men because of his height, Melborne McPherson, 42, said he can understand why people would travel to Vermont to see the foliage. "It's a beauty," he said. "I always tell my wife about the leaves, it's a beauty, you know? I hope someday she can come and see them. Everyone would like the experience to come and see the beauty of America, see what it's like."

The native of St. Thomas, Jamaica, who has worked on the farm since 1999, towers over the other men. The tall, bearded man with a gold front tooth, who grows carrots, scallions and gungoo peas, wears a brown one-piece winter suit with a loose brown winter hat that flops back and forth when he walks.

When asked if he will retire in America, it is clear that Jamaica is still his home.

"Jamaica is my country," McPherson said without a moment of hesitation.