July/August 2002
Feature Articles
Holistic Health Q & A
by Dr. George Forster
Of whiplash and prescription drugs.
What is... the Organic Movement?
by Robert Roman
Part one of a three-part article detailing
the author's personal experiences and the growth of the organic movement.
UnCommon Sense!
by David Findlay
The Middle East, terrorism, weapons
of mass destruction.
Articles on the theme "To Worry Or Not To Worry"
What, Me Worry?
by AnneMarie Dyer
A vacation leads to some spiritual
insights.
Worrier To Warrior
by Lisa Raphael
The difference between someone who
worries and a warrior, a person of courage and vigor.
The Righteous Worrier!
by Rev. D. Kaye Patrick
Does worry really mean loving and caring?
Or is worrying a waste of time and energy?
Let It Go!
by Tracy Woolrich
Easy to say, but how to do it?
Why Worry?
by Bob Murray PhD
The underlying cause of over-anxious
reactions and generalized worry - and the solution.
A Balancing Act
by Charles Larsen
Of over-reacting and under-reacting
and the attempt to find a middle ground.
Too Blessed To Be Stressed
by Rev. Pat Cross
The power to choose between a human
or a spiritual view of our problems.
Remember Scarlett O'Hara
by Dave Hunt
A life without worry? How to achieve
it?
What is... the Organic Movement?
by Robert Roman
I raised my hand one night, back in 1974, and changed the course of my life. I was sitting at a meeting of the Columbia (MO) Community Grocery (CCG), a cooperative. I was there only because my friend Walter Bargen and his wife Babette had invited me. I had shopped a couple of times at the coop, but found the people very standoffish, unfriendly, and unattentive. Being new to the place, I felt uncomfortable. But Walter had said come along, so I did.
There were 84 people there, and I knew 3, myself included. We were there to find the next coordinator (the coop way to say manager) of the CCG. We sat for almost 3 hours listening to the people who had been involved in the coop tell us about what the job consisted of, what the pay was ($150/week), and how much help all of them would give the new coordinator. I kept getting more and more interested, but with my degree in psychology, and 3 years teaching math in the Peace Corps, I knew I wasn't qualified to run this thing. I knew nothing about a store, only the tiniest bit about the food, and had never run any kind of business. But I kept being interested. And my heart was beating fast, and my palms were sweating. These were the bad signs I knew about me that meant I was getting ready to open my mouth, and say something important to me. I used to hate those moments. What if no one else understood me? Understood how important this was to me? Laughed at me? Oh, the heartbeat!
But I did it. I raised my hand and said, "This sounds really exciting to me, but I don't know anything about how to do it. I just think it would be fun!" Oh, my god! 83 people stood up, applauded, yelled things like "alright" and "way to go" and then someone said, "What's your name?" See, they didn't know me, either. But they all congratulated me on being the new coordinator of the Columbia Community Grocery! They were relieved that someone had taken the job, and I was off on an adventure of a lifetime.
I was asked if I was going to the State Meeting of Coops in Kansas City. I said, "I didn't know there were other coops." They laughed so loud. For those of you who know there are thousands of coops in the world, I can now laugh with you. I became very involved in those meetings. I was soon elected to be chairman of the Citizen's Advisory Board to the Governor of Missouri for Cooperatives. I went to meetings for the founding of the National Consumer Cooperative Bank; was involved with Project Taproot, sponsored by the University of Missouri, to study and assist coops; was elected to the Board of our regional coop distributor of foods, New Destiny Federation (now called Ozark Coop Warehouse.) I lead meetings with two and three hundred people and had them reach consensus on items of business for the Federation, and taught coop principles and buying club formation to many groups.
And all that was just the beginning of this wonderful journey of organic, natural, biodynamic gardening, farming, researching, writing, selling, and living.
Do you know that strawberry plants do not stand 6 feet tall? They are maybe a foot at full growth. I know that now, but the day my landlord at the first place in the country I ever rented showed me around and pointed to the 6-foot tall plants and said, "This is your strawberry patch," I believed him! The next day, I had my friend Walter out, and showed him around. "That's not strawberries! That's giant ragweed!" We did find 3 nearly dead plants way under all the weeds, but it was disappointing for a patch that was supposed to be 8' to 10' and have great berries! That was the same year that I canned okra leaves, thinking they were spinach. My mom showed me the okras under the leaves.
But I did have some successes then, also. I canned 72 quarts of dill pickles. Every potluck, Robert brought pickles! And they were good! I put up 72 quarts of tomato sauce, 60 quarts of green beans, had sweet potatoes until next April, and learned to prune fruit trees. That is exciting! There may not be anything better in life than to take care of a fruit tree. That year I had apples, peaches, plums, and grapes. My old neighbors, who were at the rocking chair on the porch stage of their lives, told me that they watched me everyday, and that the apples I had that year were the best they had seen there in 43 years! That was success! And a thrill never forgotten, oft repeated. I ate poison ivy that year, too. I can get it really bad. Big blisters in way too many places. But I decided that year that little plant was not going to beat me! Someone said eat it in the spring, when it first comes up, and then a little more, and more. It is like taking the pills to build up an immunity. I DO NOT RECOMMEND THIS TO ANYONE!!!! It did work for me, however. That year, I mowed large patches of poison ivy, with just my shoes and shorts on. And it landed on me. No question about it! But, I did not get any blisters that year. Not that year!
I liked gardening. I stood in my garden for hours on end. Daytime, nighttime, sunlight, moonlight. Hours and hours. Have you sat in your garden and just watched and listened. No DVD, CD, cell phone, pager. Just you and the bugs? Have you seen those time-lapse movies of plants? I did, only I was there while the time lapsed. 6, 8, 10 hours straight. You see so much and learn so much. I watched the ladybugs lay their eggs on my nasturtiums, which I had planted next to my tomatoes, because the book said they were companion plants. I watched the eggs hatch and the little larvae develop. I watched them eat the aphids on my tomatoes. Hundreds of them. I watched my chickens, those beautiful Rhode Island Reds and Barred Plymouth Rocks turn over every inch of my mulch and my compost, digging for food. You have to sit still to watch a plant grow. You can do it.
I would talk to my organic grower friends in this little study group we formed. We were talking about what we could allow an organic grower to use, and still call the product organic. There were no set rules at that time. But in my living room, and in other living rooms or porches, or kitchen tables around central Missouri, we set down some rules for us. It turns out that right around that time, kitchen tables across America were birthing organic rules for local groups, and then some state groups. Since we had contacts with most of the early organic growers in MO through the coop network, our group was able to include most of MO in the rules. We contacted friends in other states to see what they were doing, contacted the Rodale folks to see what they were saying, and talked amongst ourselves as to what we felt was right and true. We set down the rules.
I also talked to these friends about an idea I had. It was easy to come to, but harder to prove or understand. We have this big thing in the sky called the sun. Everyone agrees that the sun's movement affects the growth of plants. We have seasons, cold and hot, longer days, shorter days. No problem here. And most of my friends used the Old Farmer's Almanac, which is a moon-based calendar. No one was able to explain the science, but we all felt like those old farmers were probably on to something. And you could always fall back on the effect on tides, so probably on sap in the plants. So a second big thing in the sky affects farmers. Now stay with me on a real easy next step. One big thing, two big things, three big things. Easy! Mercury! Why not? It must have some effect. Not so easily explained what the effect might be, but clearly it should have some. Right? And four big things: Venus, Mars, Saturn, Pluto, etc. They must have some effect. It only is logical, but hard to prove. My friends thought I was just a little too far out there for them.
Compost. The organic gardeners' best friend. I have made literally thousands of tons, yep, tons, of compost over my years. I used to walk out into the woods with an old Boy Scout knapsack and another canvas sack, and fill them with rotted tree stumps. I figured if it was good enough stuff to keep the forest healthy, it ought to help my garden. Leaves, grass clippings, old manure, new manure, restaurant waste, horse manure from the stables at Stephen's College, all for my gardens.
I also later worked on a large compost research project with my friend Tom. Tom was trying to show all of the counties around North Carolina that they could save their landfills if they would do something useful with all of their natural waste products. We composted sawdust, shavings, processing plant waste, chicken, turkey and hog manure, that otherwise was going to fill the landfill. We used the biodynamic preparations to turn that waste into fertilizer for the highway departments to use on their landscaping projects. We proved this was not only cost effective as a fertilizer, but saved the landfills as well.
After the coop days, I decided that I no longer wanted to put someone else's products on my shelves. I wanted to be one of those people producing product. I liked gardening, and decided that full-time gardening for me meant farming. So I set off to learn to be a farmer. My friend Julie, who I had met in Columbia, had given me a book called Gardening for Health & Nutrition by a couple named Philbrick. This book introduced me to biodynamic gardening, which I immediately saw as putting together what I was searching for spiritually, and what I was doing practically. This was spiritual organic gardening, so to speak. Julie had moved to a 350-acre farm in upstate New York, called Hawthorne Valley Farm. This was one of the only biodynamic farms in the US at the time, and they took apprentices.
Being the young, naive guy I was, I figured if I showed up there, they would be happy to put me to work. So I packed everything I owned into my 1964 Ford F-1 pickup, with homemade wooden sides, and headed for Hawthorne Valley (HVF). I arrived there on Thanksgiving Day, only to find the whole community at the dining hall, having dinner. So I walked in and asked for the farmer. I was directed to Christoph, a man with a beard, and a French beret. He was Swiss, and had a very strong accent. I told him who I was, and what I wanted to do. He told me that he already had his 3 apprentices, and would not have an opening until April, but that someone had already been selected for that position as well. But, he said he would see what he could do over the weekend.
Sometimes you find out you may be on the right path. Arthur, the Swiss apprentice, and a fabulous baker, who I had not met, decided over the weekend that instead of staying until April, he was going to leave in 2 weeks and go back to baking. So, Christoph agreed to take me on from Thanksgiving until April, but no more. This was a biodynamic dairy farm. They made yogurt and cheese for sale at the Farmer's Market in New York City, and for the community. They grew 5 acres of vegetables, baked a lot of bread, had a Waldorf School, a Visiting School Program for grade schoolers to spend a week or more on the farm, and much more.
I learned to work hard. My first job everyday was to be the silo unloader, because the electric one was broken. 4:45 AM, freezing cold, frozen, packed silage, and I have to pitch it down for the cows. 45 minutes, non-stop, faster than I had ever had to move, heavier than I had ever had to lift. Everyday I went up there in the silo dressed as warm as I could be with many layers. 45 minutes later, I was down to my T-shirt in 10 degrees below zero weather. After that little warm-up to the day, and a break for breakfast, we started the work of the day. Cleaning the barn, throwing down the hay for the cows, driving the tractor out to the field to make the compost piles of that day's cleanings, fixing the broken, frozen chains on the barn cleaner or the manure spreader, and then having tea. Meanwhile, the other, more advanced apprentices were making the yogurt and cheese. I eventually learned these crafts, but did not get to do them very often then.
After tea, we usually went out gathering firewood, as we were the main suppliers for 20 or 30 families. We would work for 5 or 6 hours, on a hillside, freezing cold, snowy ground, and chain-sawing dead trees from the woods. And then we had to carry the 8 foot long, usually 12-14 inch diameter logs to a central place to get them down the hill. Later, we sawed them into lengths for the stoves, and split them by hand. Every night I was so totally exhausted that I could not go to many of the events in the village. I managed one night a week to go to the agriculture study class that Christoph gave on biodynamic farming. It was required, but I loved it.
Christoph taught me how to drive a tractor. We had a Russian Belarus, a powerful tractor for cold weather climates. We also had several other smaller tractors which I drove as well. But Christoph would not show me how to milk the cows. He didn't think I was ready, didn't think I was tuned into them right. Since I rarely got to spend time in the barn during milking (remember the silage unloader and the wood!), he was right. But one Saturday afternoon, it was his turn to milk, and all the others were away for the day. I went in to help out. He had me milk my first cow by hand, so I would get a feel for the udder of the cow full, emptying, and when it was finished. As he got behind, I washed a cow, and then another. I told him when cows were finished, and he came over to take off the machine. Then he told me to take one off, and dump the milk into the tank. Then he let me put one on. By the end of that milking, I had done all the steps in milking the cows. After that, I helped out more frequently, and did get tuned into the cows. This is a big deal to a city boy from St. Louis, MO.!
My time was drawing close at HVF. April was approaching, I had to move on.
(To be continued next issue.)
Robert Roman is general manager of Nature's Food Patch in Clearwater. FL (727) 443-6703 ext. 223. rroman@naturesfoodpatch.com
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