Corn in the fields
Listen to the rice when the wind blows 'cross the water
King Harvest has surely come
I work for the union 'cause she's so good to me
And I'm bound to come out on top
That's where she said I should be
I will hear every word the boss may say
For he's the one who hands me down my pay
Looks like this time I'm gonna get to stay
I'm a union man now, all the way
The smell of the leaves
From the magnolia trees in the meadow
King Harvest has surely come
Dry summer, then comes fall
Which I depend on most of all
Hey, rainmaker, can't you hear the call?
Please let these crops grow tall
Long enough, I've been up on skid row
And it's plain to see, I've nothing to show
I'm glad to pay those union dues
Just don't judge me by my shoes
Scarecrow and a yellow moon
And pretty soon a carnival on the edge of town
King Harvest has surely come
Last year, this time, wasn't no joke
My whole barn went up in smoke
Our horse, Jethro, well, he went mad
And I can't remember things bein' that bad
Then there comes a man with a paper and a pen
Tellin' us our hard times are about to end
And then, if they don't give us what we like
He said, "Men, that's when you gotta go on strike"
Corn in the fields
Listen to the rice when the wind blows 'cross the water
King Harvest has surely come
~ Robbie Robertson & The Band
Although Robertson is given full credit for writing this song, Levon Helm claims, in his book This Wheel's on Fire, that it was a "group effort." I'm going with Levon. I will give Robertson credit for his story-telling abilities, especially when he reaches back in time to produce a slice of Americana pie. "It's just a kind of character study in a time period," he says of the song. "King Harvest" is on The Band's eponymous second album, released in 1969.
Likely referring to the emergence of share-cropper unions in the South during the years 1928 - 1935 (think Great Depression), the song evokes images of Jim Casy's efforts to unionize the California farm workers in The Grapes of Wrath. The economic desperation of workers of that time made them rife for exploitation, and the hard-fought unions were what saved them. In recent decades, we have witnessed a decrease in the power of unions, coinciding with the furthering divide between the haves and the have-nots. I am always amazed at how the wisdom of people like John Steinbeck and Woody Guthrie seems to get lost in a nation that gravitates more and more toward greed.
During my career, I belonged to a union and was grateful for the opportunity to do so. I was glad to pay those union dues. I felt safe and protected. Although we never went on strike, there was a time when our local association took a vote to do so. And that was enough to inspire management to come to the table again and resolve the issues at hand. Without the union, it would have turned out much differently.
Yesterday, despite a temperature of 80 degrees, I finished the back-breaking task of putting my vegetable gardens (all thirteen raised beds) to rest for the winter. My sadness at the end of the season in which I can feed myself from my own space and efforts was minimized by the fact that I no longer have to spend my mornings weeding! I still have baskets full of peppers, the last pound of green beans in the frig, and a bowl of tomatoes ripening on the windowsill. I have garlic and onions to get me through the next several months and pesto and sauce and more green beans in the freezer. Oh, and one baby zucchini.
King Harvest has surely come.
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| Levon Helm at John Gill's Fall Farm Festival 2008 |
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