Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, July 22, 1990 TAG: 9007220142
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: D-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARY BISHOP STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
No more wondering what pesticides lurk within those lettuce leaves, and no more waxed cucumbers.
Linda and John Thornton, farmers in Botetourt County, are cultivating a community of gardeners to take the mystery out of mealtime.
For as little as $50 and a little weekly weeding, they and gardening partners from Roanoke and thereabouts are raising a summer's worth of organic produce with intimate knowledge of how it's grown, right down to the squishing of the squash bugs.
"I must have squashed hundreds and hundreds of squash bugs," said Rebekah Rice, a graduate student in architecture who drives from Craig County for the Tuesday harvestings at the Thornton farm near Fincastle.
She and her gardening partners are pleased that they're in complete charge of at least some of their food. They decide what to grow, when to plant and when to pick.
So far, they've produced tomatoes, sweet corn, beets, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, green beans, radishes, cucumbers, peppers (sweet and hot), squash, basil and dill.
Most of the 18 gardening families, especially one living in a Roanoke apartment, couldn't grow in bulk - or in much variety - the bountiful crops they get at the Thornton farm.
And they aren't saddled with all the work. Come vacation time, other members tend the crops. If a gardener can't make it out to help harvest, another will drop off his or her share of the pickings.
The gardeners are moving on to meat. A flock of 20 young turkeys for Thanksgiving are plumping up in the Thorntons' barnyard. Lambs and hogs will be offered, too. Dairy products are being talked about.
The Thorntons had been reading about Scandinavian and Japanese experiments in what's called "community-supported agriculture."
They decided to give it a shot this spring even though it was late, by gardening standards. In April, they spread the word among friends and people whose children, like theirs, attend Community School, a small private school in north Roanoke County: They were starting a common garden.
The gardeners got together the first time in early May. The first plantings were May 8.
The deal is this: Each family paid $50 for seeds, plants, garden rental and start-up costs. Another $50 is due by Labor Day. But each gardener earns $6 credits for each hour of work, so some families have already worked off the second payment. Gardeners unable to work will pay the full $100 for a season's worth of fresh food.
This first year, the gardeners are learning how to time sequential plantings and how to cope with growth spurts after rainy periods. It's been far from perfect.
Early on, the weekly pickings were small, and mostly beans. Now tomatoes are ripening fast. Harvestings may go to Tuesdays and Saturdays.
Next year, the Thorntons and their partners plan to start earlier and get in some lettuce and peas. They'll tailor the garden to members' tastes. Anybody want kale? How about gourds? And if they hate squash, maybe next year their gardening buddies will remember not to drop any in their bag.
They'll record who likes what. "I can imagine having a computer printout would be a big help," said Linda Thornton.
They'll probably get their money's worth this summer - especially considering store prices for organic produce. But even if they didn't, members say they're having fun - and teaching their kids.
Mary Lou Greiner, a Roanoke artist, drives 40 miles from her home near Bent Mountain to work in the garden with her 10-year-old daughter, Evelyn. "She's a real nature nut anyway, and she's enjoyed doing the de-bugging."
That fits right in with the Thorntons' greater goals.
Educators and ecologists at heart, they're finding ways to use their 225-acre Thornfield Farm to reconnect people with the substance of life.
Until a couple of generations ago, most Americans knew at least one family who raised their own food. Now kids grow up thinking chickens come wrapped in plastic.
The distancing of people from their food sources is part of a general alienation from the natural world and an overall sense of powerlessness. "Every generation is farther removed," said Linda Thornton. And that, she said, is not good for the environment or anybody.
"Food doesn't come in the microwave package in the grocery store. It all really does come from somewhere," said Thornton, a Hollins College graduate with a master's degree in teaching from Brown University in Rhode Island.
The gardening collective is one of many ways she and her husband are teaching people on the rolling hills of their farm. The last two summers, they've run Camp Persnickety, a weeklong nature retreat for their daughter, also named Evelyn, 10, and seven of her friends. Next year, at the urging of son Lucas, 7, they might have one for him and his friends.
Linda, 39, and John, 40, also teach "an alternative course in natural and life sciences"- biology, life skills, general science, you name it - for middle-school kids at Community School.
Twice a week during the school year, students come to the farm to identify wildflowers, build a gate, plant a garden, milk a cow, wire a room, construct a wagon bed, make cheese, pluck a chicken, bake bread, wire a room. . . . The list goes on and on.
"It's a very grounding thing," said Linda. "It gives people a sense of what's real."
John Thornton's been farming since he was 15. His father, the late Roanoke lawyer John H. Thornton Jr., bought the farm in 1960 but kept his Roanoke home. Once young John got his driver's license, he moved to a cabin on the back of the place.
He's stopped along the way to graduate from Princeton University and earn a law degree from Washington and Lee University, but he's never really stopped farming. Since he and Linda married and moved to the farm in 1974, they've raised beef cattle and a dairy herd.
After last Tuesday's harvesting, the Thorntons and their fellow gardeners divided the produce in the shade of some trees near the gardens. The colorful piles lay in the grass - red cabbage, yellow cherry tomatoes, mounds of beans and cucumbers, all topped with sprigs of dill.
Two men carved into a sun-hot tomato with a pocketknife and slurped the dripping fruit.
The evening sun slanted across the fields. The blacktop of Virginia 606, snaking four miles through farmland to Fincastle, shone like a dark creek bed in the dying light. Cicadas began their sunset song as gardeners' children returned from barnyard play with turkey feathers in their hair.
Paul Finney, a Veterans Administration social worker, savors the food he helps grow there for his family of four. "I know where the stuff is grown," he said. "I know how it's grown."
He strapped a box of just-picked corn and squash on the back of his motorcycle. A couple of hours later, he was eating it at home in Roanoke. "It was wonderful."
by CNB