Our Maine Street's Aroostook Issue 10 : Fall 2011 | Page 51

Aroostook County
Potato Harvest
by Catherine Shaw Bowker

As I look across the road at the potato field slowly
nearing time for its harvest, I am reminded of its stages as
it moved from seeds this spring to the beautiful blossoms
in July and now to its current state. I also recall this year’s
Maine Potato Blossom Festival week, an exciting time for
Fort Fairfield.

As a kid I loved this week with its activities and
the giant parade. Many years Dad designed and built a
wonderful float for the parade and all of the kids in the
family (and sometimes the neighborhood) were part of it.
The entire family worked on the float in some way. Dad
was the designer and carpenter, Mom and my aunt made
the costumes, and the kids helped glue, paper mâché, and
paint. We actually won a couple of trophies for the floats,
but the goal was having fun.

The floats always had a theme – a message to
distill to the parade watchers. One year the theme was the
importance of reading and its ability to build children’s
imaginations. Dad covered our Plymouth station wagon
with strong brown paper, leaving only a small hole in the
windshield so he could see as he drove the parade route.
On the roof of the car was the Mad Tea Party from Alice
in Wonderland. My cousin, Chris, was the Mad Hatter, his
sister, Shelley, was Alice, and I was the Red Queen (Dad
took a few liberties). My little sister, Judy, sat on the hood
of the car reading a giant book, Alice in Wonderland,
naturally. On the side of the float were placards with the
message, “Enjoy the Magic of Reading.”

Another year Dad made a giant fish. It had a paper
mâché head and was at least ten feet long. My little brother,
Joe, who was about five at the time, carried a fishing rod
with the fish hooked to it. Around his neck was a sign,
“You should have seen the one that got away.” The rest of
us, Chris, Shelley, Judy, and I were supposed to be under
the fish to walk it down the route. We hit a snag when we
realized none of us was tall enough to hold up the head.
Of course, we discovered this about two hours before the
parade. Larry, a neighborhood kid, was walking down the
street during our discovery so Dad called him over and
asked if he wanted to be in the parade. He said yes, and we
had our fish head. I’ll always remember our sidestepping
the horse pooh as we walked the parade route (no one had
to follow behind and shovel in those days). Thinking back

on it, our sidestepping probably made the fish look like it
was wriggling to get away.

So, what does all of this have to do with potato
harvest? The Potato Blossom Festival celebrates potatoes
– the Industry Dinner, mashed potato wrestling, potato
picking contests, the Farm Family of the Year, and the
potato queen pageants. But how many people who come to
celebrate the blossoming of the potato actually understand
what it is like to get those potatoes out of the ground and
to the market? Of course, those directly involved in the
industry know, but sadly, few others really understand
anymore. When I was a kid celebrating during the festival, I
understood the hard work it takes to harvest those potatoes.
For most kids today, the festival is just another annual
summer event in The County. Sadly, even many of us who
did work during the harvest have forgotten the real reason
for the celebration. Technology can be a wonderful thing,
but sometimes we lose a lot to gain a little. In this case, we
have lost the lessons kids learned by working in the fields for
three weeks every fall. As I look at the field across the road,
I am reminded of those days of harvest and the hard, but
satisfying work.

When I was a kid in the early sixties, nearly every
school-aged kid worked during the fall recess from school.
Harvest wasn’t a three-week vacation; it was three weeks of
hard work, dirty, tired bodies, and for many of us, money
to buy winter clothes.

While some of today’s students work during harvest,
it is still not the same. For one thing, the kids working
are likely working to buy a new electronic devi