THE CHANGING LANDSCAPE ALONG TOBACCO ROAD
CHANGE COMES SLOWLY
Methodist Bishop, Dr. Ernest Fitzgerald, wrote a story in Piedmont Airline’s monthly magazine that illustrates the attitude of farmers about their tobacco. It showed the wry humor of the farmer, the difficulty in creating change, and the need to hone a sales pitch with just the right message for your audience.
The agricultural staff from North Carolina State University was touring rural areas, making an impassioned plea for farmers to start growing grapes. In a talk to a farm group, one of the staff got carried away with enthusiasm and said, “All you have to do is plant your fields in grape vines. sit back and watch them grow, and all your worries will be over.” One old tobacco farmer, sitting down front, said in a loud voice, “I ain’t worryin’ none now.”
THE GOLD LEAF FINALLY GIVES WAY TO A NEW CROP
But eventually the grapes did come.
Some North Carolina tobacco land has converted to vineyards. The state has more than 525 vineyards and 185 wineries across the former tobacco growing region. This transformation is still in progress, and a good thing, although grapes produce about the same profit per acre that tobacco once did.
The Yadkin River is the most prominent natural feature in the northwest part of the state (along with nearby Pilot Mountain - immortalized by Andy Griffith, and on the cover of my book.)
This Yadkin Valley, so dear to my heart, has 69 vineyards and wineries. It is now better known for wine than for tobacco. The vintners take just as much pride in their product as tobacco people ever did. See Yadkin Valley Wine Country and Index.
And personally, the change is welcome. I never used tobacco, but that is most certainly not the case with the new regional crop. My doctor, to whom I am grateful, prescribed for my continued good health, four ounces of red wine daily. And I dutifully follow his orders.
GRAPE VINES ENTANGLE WITH MY TOBACCO ROOTS
My knowledge of wine goes little beyond knowing white from red. But some years back, I had a couple of friends who moved to Charlotte from California. They took pride in being wine connoisseurs. They discovered a wonderful winery about 70 miles north of Charlotte, Hanover Park Vineyard in Yadkin County, and they wanted to take me there. I frequently travel to that area, and I planned to meet them at the winery on a Sunday afternoon. They warned that I might never find it, but I asked for general directions, and then assured them that I would have no trouble.
When I arrived, they had made a picnic lunch, and we ate in the yard of the winery. They wanted to know if I had trouble finding my way to Courtney crossroad.
I pointed and said, “You see that house over there - that was the home of my Uncle C.N. ‘Newn’ Baity. And that house across the road, that was my Uncle Lindsey Baity’s house. Over there in those woods are two houses where my cousins Charles and Clarence Baity live. And the big white house down the road there – that’s where they brought me from the hospital when I was born. And that old building you see at the edge of the vineyard - that was the office of the Baity Basket Company started by my grandfather and Uncle Newn in 1920.”
I lived about a mile and a half down the road until I was four years old, and I was probably related by blood or marriage to two thirds of the people within 3 miles. Graveyards at two nearby Baptist churches are filled with scores of my relatives. Yes, those roots go deep, and no matter how much the world has changed in eighty-two years, the memories flood in every time I journey back up Tobacco Road.
If you are in the area, visit Courtney and Hanover Park Vineyard. The proprietors, Michael and Amy Helton, will be happy to see you. Tell them I sent you to visit their vineyard AND my very first stop on Tobacco Road in 1939.