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At the dawn of spring, we began our preparations for the planting of back yard vegetable gardens, some of which were big enough to be classified as urban farms. By this time of the year, we were busy every day after school trying to turn the still semi-frozen earth into fertile soil in advance of the plant-ing of the seeds.
The changing of the seasons was marked by what we did when we came home from school, when we were growing up on the East Side of Niagara Falls during the 1950s and '60s. Toiling in the garden, in the warming early spring air, was a great break from the drudgery of shoveling the heavy, wet, late winter snow.
By this time of the year, we were ready to be outdoors, not cooped up in the oil-burning, forced-air furnace-heated stuffy confines of the house. Reading and re-reading the little 5 cent packets of seeds, labeled with exquisite pictures of the beautiful crops they would yield, was a favorite pastime during the dark cold days of the seemingly perpetual winters.
Spring was welcomed, embraced, celebrated. We took on our chores in the garden with absolute glee.
We all had garden duties after school. It was the same in most of the neighborhoods all over the city in those days, when "hoeing" meant something entirely different from what it means now. Having a Victory Garden was just part of the urban landscape then--few families were without them.
Planting our gardens as soon as possible after the winter thaw was a symbol of great family pride. Timing the planting so we got the right things in the ground at the right time was a skill we learned from our parents who, like millions of Americans during World War II, depended on their gardens to supplement their pantries.
Like so many others in our neighborhood, Dad was raised on a farm. So he taught us how to plant, tend and harvest our gardens. We plowed, raked, weeded, watered, fertilized, sprayed and did everything we could to have the best garden on the block.
We planted rows of greens, cabbage, mustards and turnips and, of course, collard greens, some from seeds and others from tender little starter plants. Dad would drive us out to the farms in Ransomville and Wilson to find the best he could.
Our corn, tomatoes, peppers, potatoes and okra were as good as any, and better than some. But we were most proud of the collard greens. They were the subject of great debates among the neighbors and friends from all over the county. Back in those days, families used to visit friends and each other.
One of the most intense discussions among the parents, while the kids were running around playing hide-and-go-seek or "doctor," was the friendly revolving argument about who had the best collard greens in town. Of course, everyone's was "the best."
Planting the gardens and tending to them taught us some very fundamental principles. In addition to the simple fun of spending time together as a family, it taught us the value of work.
We learned that you harvest what you sow. At the same time, it put some incredibly delicious meals on the table.
The garden always produced more than one family could possibly eat, can or freeze, so Mom gave much of it away. That was probably one of the most valuable lessons we learned.