The Potato Harvest

In all honesty there is nothing interesting about my family. I’m not related to any famous movie stars, or musicians, or athletes. I don’t have any rich uncles, or crazy serial killer cousins. The most interesting thing about my family that comes to mind is potatoes. Yes potatoes, pomme de terre, those round little rock vegetables that you grow underground.

You may be wondering why potatoes pertain to any part of my family history, and how they could be interesting in the slightest. Let me answer all of your questions by stating that my Dad is from northern Maine; Specifically Eagle Lake, which is right next to Fort Kent. My Grandfather was born and raised in Eagle Lake and my Grandmother was actually born in the United Kingdom, then later moved to Eagle Lake; My Dad was actually born in Connecticut, but was raised in Eagle Lake. If you know anything about the agricultural industry of northern Maine you would know that potato farming is huge industry up there. A couple times a year my family and I make the trip up to Eagle Lake to see friends and relative that still live there; On the drive in there is only one road, and all you can see to either side of the road is miles, and miles of open potato fields. It is an understatement to say that potatoes are a big deal up there.

The craziest time of the year in Eagle Lake is early fall, because that is when the potato harvest is. Kids in high school get time off, about a week or two, just so they can help harvest the massive amount of potatoes that are buried in the soil there. It baffles me that schools in that area let their students out of school so they can go dig up potatoes; And the kids usually get payed to do it too. But if you ask my Dad he would probably tell you something like that he worked eighteen hour days, in the freezing cold and didn’t get paid a single dime. My Dad has numerous stories about the potato harvest, and all the trouble he would cause. He said that he had drive the harvest truck around even though he was only fifteen at the time and didn’t even have his driver’s permit yet. I think he was probably just being a hooligan taking the potato truck for a joy ride.

It is really strange how such a little insignificant thing that you would never think about twice, like a potato, would have such an influence on a community. I think it is actually pretty interesting, and I enjoy hearing about what happens during the potato harvest every year when I go up to Eagle Lake to see my family.

Photo by Eleanor Martin