Pearsons of Pearson Farm
For five generations our family has farmed the red clay of Crawford County. We’ve grown peaches, pecans, asparagus, timber, cotton, corn and other crops. The duties involved in farming the land were willingly accepted as honorable, God-given privileges as much then as they are today. All this began a little more than 100 years ago when my great –grandfather, Moses Winlock Pearson, and his wife, Cornelia, moved to the area and planted the first peach trees for the Pearson family. There were six sons and six daughters in the family, and one son, my grandfather John, soon began to farm on his own. He added more land to the family holdings and of course, planted more peaches.
John married Rosa Lee (“Mamma Lee”) and the family thrived. He loved to “figure,” to buy and sell land and to chew tobacco. She loved to write, was a consummate gardener, a devoted Primitive Baptist and an individualist. When asked “how are you doing Miss Rosa Lee?” she would simply answer “As I please… as I please.”
Eventually the youngest of their sons, Lawton, married Laurie Lanier of Metter and began to work on the family farm in Zenith. These were my parents. When we outgrew our first house, next to the red brick schoolhouse, our family of five moved to the “big house” which had been Great Grandma Pearson’s old home. My parents were devoted to their family, their church, and their work. Hebron Church was just up the road and we enjoyed gospel songs, holiday celebrations and vacations together. The old house was spacious and our garden was a haven. Fig, apple, walnut, and pomegranate trees shaded the big yard bordered by azaleas and perennials. Crabapple and Mimosas bloomed and scuppernong vines climbed the arbor. Orchards of peaches interplanted with pecan trees bordered our home, so our yard was only defined by a change of vegetation.
The children worked every summer in the packing shed where we learned lessons in perseverance and tenacity: no matter how sticky and scratchy our arms became, no matter how tired we were or how late the hour, the peaches must be ready for timely shipping to New York and other points north. Later on, my sister Peggy and I would set up a makeshift roadside stand on Highway 341 to catch vacation traffic going south with just a few boards and bricks, and a handmade poster reading, “PEACHES STOP HERE LITTLE REBEL STAND.”
With the constant threat of hail, freeze, tornadoes, and drought, it always seems a miracle that a crop is ever harvested. In 1955, my grandfather found two peaches on his entire farm. The rest were killed by frost. That memory reminds us that fate is not in our hands. My dad often said, “You’ve got to have a lot of faith to be a peach farmer.” He was right. Successful farming today requires a blend of art, talent, hard work and faith. It is a real challenge to grow and deliver to the market the “Queen of Fruits” (a Georgia peach), but the rewards of doing that job well make the effort worthwhile.
When I bite into a sweet juicy Georgia peach, childhood memories of a picture perfect summer day in the country fill my mind. I’m riding with my father and grandfather through peach orchards they planted on the rich, red clay soil of Crawford County. They stop to look, feel and taste the fruit to decide when to harvest, while I play barefoot in the shade of the spreading trees. I remember picking the ripest peach and as I bite through the soft fuzzy skin, juice trickles down my chin and arm. Later, in the fall, the same trio visits pecan orchards. My father picks up two nuts, cracks one with the other and shares the rich, crunchy meat with me. My grandmother and mother will soon use these nuts to make pies and cakes for the coming holidays.
Our business is based on family land and founded on principles of effort and integrity handed down through four generations. The quality we strive to achieve in our fruits and nuts are freshness, good taste and integrity. We hope you enjoy the results as much as we do.
Levitra Side Effects are observed only if you too often use our means. It is necessary to know when to stop and then everything will be good. It is possible even to tell that is very good. But I wouldn’t risk to speak so.
Malinda Barnett Williamson
7 years ago
I remember the summer days of the 50’s and 60′ s very well. Until 1956 I would visit Mt grandparants, the Brown’s that lived on the same road as Dr Rackley every chance I got.. I remember when the packing she’d at Zenith burned down. But most of all I remember the great peaches. My mother did MRs Laura’s , Mrs Jamie and Mrs.Glady’s hair and they would bring mother peaches and after a field had been stripped they would allow us to go to the field and pick some really nice tree ripen peaches. I will always think of the Pearson’s and how nice they were to my mother and our family. I really miss the good olé days in the Valley.
My husband and I lived in Fort Valley and we would drive out 341 to your roadside stand and buy peaches. Then we moved to Warner Robins and lived there until 2000 and we moved to Greenville, SC. Two years ago I was very ill and ended up having to have my left leg removed. I chose to come to GA to be near my children for my rehab which the doctors told me it would be about 12 to 16 weeks then home. But that didn’t happen and I am still in a nursing home in Perry called Summerhill.
Even though I learned to enjoy the SC peaches, I would always manage to get some Georgia peaches.
I read all about what you have done on the farm and I would love to come out there but I am bedridden. One article spoke about HGTV doing a segment on the old family home and I would like to know when it airs.
Thanks so much for reading my ramblings today!!
Malinda Barnett Williamson