livestock with purebred animals whenever possible, and keep accurate
records of milk and egg production. An especially successful tool was
the establishment of Dairy Herd Improvement Associations which tested
the yield and butter fat content of each cow's milk. The aim of these
organizations was to identify the high and low producers in a herd so
that poor producers could be sold and breeding done to best advantage.
Agricultural Agent H. B. Derr moved quickly to establish these groups in
the county. By 1920 two of the fourteen Dairy Herd Improvement
Associations in Virginia were in Fairfax County, and the result was a
continual improvement in the stock owned by Fairfax farmers. Derr
reported with pleasure that within the first year of the program 15% of
the cows were eliminated and replaced by better stock and that "one
dairyman said the first month's test paid for the year's work."[109]
Similar improvements were taking place in the grading and
standardization of seed. When Derr first arrived in Fairfax County in
1917, he complained that it was "the dumping ground of about as bad a
lot of seed as he had ever seen."[110] Old or genetically mixed seed
yielded poor crops and Derr organized volunteer farmers to help test new
strains as well as established varieties in the area's soil. The
experimentation for crop return and quality and controlled breeding done
at the Virginia Polytechnical Institute and similar institutions
increased the variety of seed available and made for highly predictable
returns. An additional help was the increased dependability of seed
distributors. Holden Harrison recalled that Southern States Cooperative
was particularly conscientious in this regard. "Other seed companies had
begun to improve their seed stocks, but Southern States put the emphasis
on it. The seed wheat we got from Southern States outproduced any other
that we could find."[111] Whereas traditionally many had merely been
saving the most likely ears of corn or a random bushel of wheat for
seed, the farmer now demanded certified seed of a variety most
responsive to his area's soil type and weather.
Agriculturalists were also making huge strides in understanding the
physical needs of animals and disease prevention. The discoveries about
bacterial and viral infections made by medical researchers during the
1920s and 1930s were beginning to be understood in veterinary circles
and applied to animal care. Mastitis and chicken cholera were among the
common diseases brought under control by new drugs. County agents
carried medicine and veterinary equipment with them using it both in
emergency cases and to instruct farmers in sanitation and preventative
care.[112] Health standards, especially for dairy products sold in
Washington, D.C., had been stiffened during the first World War, and it
was important for the farmer to understand disease prevention not only
to save his animals but to keep his produce marketable.
[Illustration: Soybeans on a demonstration field showing the
improvements made by the addition of lime to the soil. Photo in H. B.
Derr Report, 1925, Virginiana Collection, Fairfax County Public
Library.]
Veterinarians abounded in the area, but were called in generally for
required tests (such as tuberculin) or when the situation was really
grave; most farmers relied on their own experience for delivering
calves or treating common ailments.[113] Among the prominent vets in the
county were Dr. Harry Drake, Dr. Bernard Poole and C. L. Kronfeld. All
of these men made house calls, bringing medical kits and medicine with
them. Their fee was $2.50 per visit which included the price of
follow-up medicine. Perhaps because this fee was prohibitive to some, or
through a desire for self-reliance, farmers often neglected to call the
veterinarian until an animal was critically ill. "The farmer in what I
suspect was fifty percent of the cases lost the animal anyway after the
vet got there," acknowledged Joseph Beard,
because so many times instead of having preventative medicine ...
they never called him until things were in very bad shape. I
suspect that the vet would have been able to save so many of the
animals that he didn't by virtue of the fact that he didn't get
there on time.... They weren't interested in prevention; they were
interested in the cure.[114]
The farmers were not entirely to blame since preventative medicine was a
new concept, the benefits of which were not always immediately obvious.
County agents Derr and Beard both waged exhaustive battles to convince
local agriculturalists of the advantage of vaccination and show them the
proper methods of inoculating their own animals. Derr found the farmers
unwilling to do their own vaccinating, preferring to rely on
specialists; yet with classic inconsistency they were also reluctant to
call in a veterinarian for such a purpose.[115] In the end, the agents
found that, like many other progressive techniques which seemed new and
unsubstantiated to the farmer, demonstration worked better than
rhetoric. An example of this occurred in 1926 when a farmer let some
cattle onto a pasture, believed to be infested with a calf disease known
as blackleg. When one of his best calves died, he panicked and turned to
the county agent. The farmer's animals were all inoculated, as were
those on several neighboring farms, and there were no further losses.
"This incident has done more to place confidence in vaccinations than
several years' talking could do," wrote a pleased H. B. Derr. "There are
no more doubting Thomases in that community at least."[116]
Similar work was undertaken to convince orchardists and crop producers
of the advantages of preventative spraying to eliminate bacterial
diseases and aid in insect control. The county's production of fruits,
vegetables and grains had suffered less from direct neglect than from
ignorance of proper care.[117] The value of chemical pesticides was just
beginning to be understood (their use would not reach major proportions
until the years after World War II) and Joseph Beard noted that the
agents were frequently "bombarded with all these new advertisements
coming from the supplier or chemical company...."[118] The agents
refrained from recommending products that had not been tested for at
least three years at the State Agricultural Experiment Station, insuring
some safety in the pesticides, though Beard admitted that the principles
of chemical buildup were not yet recognized.[119] Slowly word
travelled through the county of the advantages of protecting crops from
disease. By 1930 the program was progressing nicely, as Derr reported to
the state agency. Driving through the county one day, he met a
successful orchardist whom he had previously urged to use fungicides.
"Derr," the farmer remarked to him, "you sure keep me busy; every time
my wife sees your spray notices she makes me get the machine out and go
to work, but it surely does pay to spray."[120] Here too the farmer
relied on his own verification and judged personal experience stronger
than the words of experts.
[Illustration: A wild cherry tree destroyed by web worms. Insect pests
such as these were a chief reason for the decline of orchards in the
area. Photo in H. B. Derr Report, 1925, Virginiana Collection, Fairfax
County Public Library.]
* * * * *
In this period of exciting and crucial advances in agricultural
knowledge, the individual landowner was sometimes at a loss to, in his
parlance, separate the wheat from the chaff. Radio programs, bulletins
from the USDA and VPI, local newspaper columns and talks by visiting
experts all vied for the farmer's time, as did the news in _The Southern
Planter_, _Country Gentleman_ and _Farm Journal_, favorite periodicals in
the area. "These programs came so rapidly the farmers just about got
familiar with one until another appeared," Derr reported in 1936. "As
one farmer put it, 'just one durned thing after another."[121]
Furthermore, the information was often confusing, at odds with the
handed-down teachings of generations, or juxtaposed with other advice
with which it was dramatically opposed. The _Herndon News-Observer_, for
example, carried several articles on "scientific feeding" in its early
1925 issues and advocated crop rotation and strict attention to
cleanliness. Only a year later, however, it printed a column advising
farmers to feed kerosene and lard to hens to rid them of vermin.[122] In
an even more blatant example, this paper contained an article written by
Virginia state dairy specialist John A. Avery, which counseled area
farmers to increase their dairy herds; the same edition ran a piece by
H. B. Derr which bemoaned the surplus of milk then glutting the
Washington market.[123] It is not surprising that the farmer, caught in
the midst of a bewildering amount of concrete advice and misinformation,
sometimes preferred to stick to his ancestors' ways. Thus, the old
adages--that corn should be planted when the leaves were as large as
squirrel's ears, or that when a hen's comb isn't bright red, it isn't
laying--were relinquished with reluctance.[124] The only consistently
accepted source on scientific farming seems to have been Virginia
Polytechnical Institute's _Handbook of Agronomy_, which more than one
farmer stated he held in one hand while directing the plow with the
other.[125]
A particularly difficult question for the farmer to consider was the
problem of specialization. General farming had been the rule for so
long, and one-crop systems had such a reputation for running farms into
debt, that many were doubtful of the advantages of specialization. Here,
too, they received mixed signals. On one hand farmers were advised to
sink their all into poultry or dairying, only to hear that to
concentrate too completely on one area would limit their
self-sufficiency and mitigate the integrated quality of the farm. In an
increasingly technical world, however, specialization had many
attractions. Expensive machinery needed to be purchased for only one
kind of production, the farmer could cut down the vast influx of
information to only those subjects which directly interested him, and
the methods of mass production, first pioneered in factories, could be
applied to his concentrated effort. Moreover, specialization in market
commodities produced the cash which had become ever more important to
buy equipment, pay taxes and purchase manufactured goods which were no
longer made on the farm. In the end, Fairfax County farmers generally
effected a compromise: while focusing on one aspect of farming, they
retained many of the advantages of the general farmer. Vegetable
gardens, poultry houses, orchards, and sometimes sheep all kept their
place on the family farm. Even C. T. Rice, who liked to refer to his
farm as a milk producing plant, with "little time or space for anything
else" kept a few chickens and hogs.[126]
An early specialization in the county was truck gardening. The long
growing season and potential markets in Alexandria and Washington in
theory seemed to point to success in this field. The list of vegetables
and fruits grown for the commercial market was impressive and included
potatoes, corn, tomatoes, spinach, black-eyed peas, parsnips and
rhubarb, apples and several varieties of berries.[127] One man even grew
artichokes, making quite a substantial profit, but decided to move his
operation to more productive soils in New Jersey.[128] Yet those who
attempted raising large quantities of these crops found it difficult to
show clear profits. Fruit growers had to compete with the world-famous
produce of the Shenandoah Valley, whose strong cooperative organization
gave an added advantage to the area's natural abundance. Hay and forage
grains were of decreasing importance in a country rapidly becoming
enamored of the automobile. In addition, a slump in farm prices had
begun in 1920-21, the after-effect of the inflated agricultural revenues
of the World War I years.
A study of small truck farms in the Washington, D.C. area showed that
despite intensive labor and a double cropping system, a farmer was often
clearing only $500 annually by raising produce for the city markets. The
study concluded that it took "the best management and a considerable
knowledge of farm practice and markets" to till such a farm to
advantage. On the smallest farms it was only the exceptional farmer who
could make more than a living without any outside source of income.[129]
Marketing the produce was a special problem of truck farming. The
vegetables had to be delivered and sold at the peak of their ripeness
and their highly perishable nature made this somewhat difficult in the
days before refrigeration. It was generally undesirable to sell through
a middleman, and therefore the farmer was responsible for personally
marketing as well as raising his produce. Moreover, the trip to
Washington was tedious and time consuming, especially in the early 1920s
when the condition of the area's roads was at a notoriously low point.
One market farmer's trip was described in this way:
He planted all sorts of garden produce and he had what you'd call a
market wagon; it was a covered wagon.... During the day he would
fill that wagon with his produce and in the evening he would hook
his ... two horses to the wagon to get to Washington. He'd aim to
get there by six o'clock in the morning when the markets opened. He
would sell his produce as much as he could [directly from the
wagon] ... to individuals at the old Center Market.... They paid a
higher price. If he had any left over he had to sell it at whatever
he could get to the people who owned the stalls.... It took him
three or four hours ... to sell his load of produce. Then it was
the next night before he came home.[130]
Conditions at the city markets were also less than perfect as large
companies tried to dump cheap produce from outside areas on the
Washington consumer. Not only did they compete with the local farmer for
the lowest prices, but they misused the stall space itself. Even when a
new market was built in 1933, this remained a problem. One irate farmer
angrily stated to the editor of the _Herndon News-Observer_ that the large
retail trucks held all the available spaces while the area farmers
"stand out doors (sic) all day and part of the night, trying to eke out
money for taxes, interest and other arbitrary costs." The streets were
filthy, he continued, and the market protection itself inadequate. "The
only pretense of shelter barely covers the sidewalk, leaving the
farmer's truck or car outdoors where produce is in danger from heat,
cold, or rain."[131]
Partially because of these problems, the specialty which gained in
distinction and profitability at this time was dairy farming. There were
several additional reasons for this. The land itself was well adapted to
the raising of milk cows; its gently undulating terrain--which formed
numerous natural water depressions--coupled with the abundance of small
streams or "runs," made water easily available. To the dairy farmer who
must water his stock regardless of seasonal conditions, this was
essential. As previously mentioned, Fairfax County also possessed soil
types which worked up well and produced high yields of the pasturage and
ensilage crops required to support large dairy herds. And, one observer
noted, the weather was favorable for the dairy industry: "The winters
are relatively short in Fairfax, thus allowing cattle to stay out often
until the latter part of November, returning to pasture by April or
May."[132]
These natural assets tell only part of the story for, as stated above,
Fairfax County continually produced well above the state per acre
average in both corn and orchard fruits and its market crops were
considerably varied as late as 1920. Although dairying required more
capital initially and more land than did market gardening, it held an
advantage in that the plummeting farm prices did not affect milk
products as disasterously as crops. The really great asset that the
Fairfax County dairy industry possessed, however, was its proximity to
the large milk-consuming markets in Alexandria and Washington, D.C., and
the speedy access afforded by rail lines connecting the two areas. Where
truck farmers needed to sell their produce personally in order to make
the best profit, milk producers sold to distributors, who collected at
the depot, making rail transportation a feasible marketing device.
In the earliest days of the century milk was shipped by boat to the city
markets, but the lack of river access for many farms and the ease of
spoilage on this slow mode of transportation retarded the growth of the
commercial milk market. It was not until the old and unreliable steam
railway lines, such as the Washington and Old Dominion Railway, were
converted to electricity around 1912 and refrigerated cars were widely
used, that the shipment of milk became really profitable.[133]
Communities such as Floris, situated only a few miles from the Herndon
depot, began to flourish as dairy centers when only a few years earlier
poor transportation would have made marketing of such a highly
perishable product unthinkable. So successful and rapid was the dairy
boom that by 1924 over 1,800 gallons of milk were shipped daily from the
county to Washington, and its production was the highest in
Virginia.[134]
Other factors served to enhance the burgeoning dairy industry. Around
1910 milk pasteurization and bottling plants were established in
Washington. This created a large market for whole milk, which had
formerly been held in suspicion by many people who believed milk to be a
carrier of disease. Another important aspect was the well-directed
efforts of the two county agricultural extension agents who, in addition
to introducing the previously mentioned Dairy Herd Improvement
Associations, encouraged the use of pure-bred bulls for breeding, often
acquiring the free loan of USDA animals for the purpose. The use of
these bulls was an added incentive for farmers to pay the nominal fee
and join the Dairy Herd Improvement Associations, since membership was
required in order to borrow a government animal. By these methods and
repeated admonitions to "get out of the scrub class and join the
pure-bred bunch," the county agents helped Fairfax farmers develop so
fine a reputation for quality dairy cows that buyers came from many
states to procure these high-testing animals for their farms.[135]
Another factor affecting the rise of dairying in Fairfax County was the
early formation of the Maryland and Virginia Milk Producers Association.
The organization had been informally started in 1907 as a clearinghouse
for grievances among some producers in the vicinity of Washington, D.C.,
but for many years it "amounted to little more than an occasional
general meeting for the purpose of some united effort toward raising the
price of milk."[136] In 1920 it was incorporated and a full-time manager
employed. Each member paid a fee of one cent per gallon of milk sold (a
fund which was accumulated and refunded when a farmer left the
organization) and the Association handled the business of selling to the
distributors in Washington. By such collective action the dairymen were
able to control milk prices more effectively, and their unity assured a
measure of security against unscrupulous action by distributors. In the
early years of Fairfax County dairying this was a very real threat as
former Association member Holden Harrison attests:
There were four or five principal distributors in Washington. I
don't know whether they got together on this or not, but to start
out with they had a two price program. They paid you more in the
winter than they did in the summer.... The dairy farmer was at the
mercy of the milk distributor then. They set prices just as low as
they thought the best dairyman could continue to produce.... The
distributors were about to starve the farmers out, that's what
brought it around. We weren't getting a fair deal. So when we
formed this Association the management of the Association could
say, 'We've got these farmers lined up. They pretty well depend on
us and we can pretty well tell them what to do.' Through that
leverage they could pretty well tell the distributors what to do,
too.[137]
The Association furthered its prestige--and its bargaining power--by
waging a battle against "bootleg," or uninspected, milk being brought
into the area from Pennsylvania and New Jersey. It had the additional
advantage of stabilizing prices so that the farmer with only a small
amount of milk for the market could compete with the larger producer
whose more economical methods had previously allowed him to undersell
his smaller neighbor. Better methods of testing and pasteurizing the
milk were also concerns and the cooperative used its muscle to negotiate
loans for its members.[138]
Furthermore, in the late 1920s, the Association became concerned about
the drop in prices due to an overabundance of milk in the area and
developed a system of handling the surplus. "It eventually built itself
into a position where the Association itself either rented or purchased
a plant that could take care of surplus milk...," stated Holden
Harrison. "This surplus milk was processed into cheese or butter or ice
cream or maybe even powdered milk.... They had a plant in Frederick,
Maryland, and they would divert whatever amount of producers' milk to
Frederick to the processing plant and keep it out of the hands of the
distributors."[139] This action had the double advantage of avoiding
waste and preventing a profit-lowering glut of milk.
By 1927 the Maryland and Virginia Milk Producers Association was the
largest farmer's cooperative in Virginia. It included 85% of the
Washington area producers in its membership, despite the effort of
distributors to dissuade some of the better producers from joining. They
exercised bargaining control of over $2,500,000 annually. Though they
never actually went on strike, their large membership fund gave them a
strong bargaining position. "The distributors knew when that fund
accumulated to a good-sized sum that we weren't just a fly-by-night
outfit that could be pushed around, that we had resources we could rely
on."[140] Furthermore, the organization wisely kept its clout by
avoiding political issues and exercising minimum control over individual
methods of production. Its purpose was to streamline the
commercialization of a farm product, and in this effort it was highly
successful.
Northern Virginia's reputation for dairy excellence grew both in local
circles and throughout the state as a result of published census reports
and statewide comparisons of milk volume and butterfat content. The 1925
agricultural census shows Fairfax County to be the largest producer in
the state, with average yield per cow 70% above the statewide figure; in
1940 this margin was even greater.[141] Dairy Herd Improvement
Association #1, based in the Herndon area, had especially impressive
results. In 1935, for example, it had the second highest overall average
in Virginia and included four of the state's five most productive herds.
In 1937 the county's high-testing cow, a Holstein owned by Dr. F. W.
Huddleston, gave 2,031 pounds of milk (8.6 pounds to a gallon) per month
to a statewide average of 620.[142]
As a result of these impressive showings, many local farmers shied away
from general farming and began to put their energies into milk
production; new farmers were drawn to the area specifically for the
possibilities in dairy farming. Of ten families interviewed in the
Floris area, all save one connected their family's removal to Fairfax
County to the combination of transportation ease and excellent prices
afforded by the Washington milk market. "In this period there was an
immigration of farmers from other parts of the country, particularly in
the Valley of Virginia, who did not have an opportunity to market their
farm products and their livestock very readily up there in the Valley,"
related Joseph Beard, "... the Southern Railway, the Richmond,
Fredericksburg and Potomac [Railways were] quite an asset to people who
wanted to market their farm products so a lot of them moved up
here."[143] Many of the newcomers became outstanding in the field of
dairy husbandry, for example, C. T. Rice, a celebrated dairy owner of
the Oakton area, whose animals consistently scored highly on milk
production. He came to the county in 1915 but "threw away his plow"
during the 1920s to concentrate solely on dairying, citing erosion
problems and the more constant income of dairying as his reasons.[144]
So widespread was this tendency to embrace dairy farming that a
traveller riding through the county in 1930 sensed that "it is not
farming country at all, because there is very little planting done. We
saw few fields in which a crop had been recently harvested ... it is
apparently a grazing country."[145]
Despite its spectacular achievements, the Fairfax County dairy industry
did not rise with an unchecked ascent but suffered a certain share of
problems and setbacks. In one sense its very success was its worst
enemy. Although many farmers continued to focus on dairying, by 1926
there was a surplus of milk on the Washington market and the county
agent noted that "it appears as if we had sufficient dairies."[146]
Still, while prices dropped steadily between 1926 and 1935,[147] farmers
continued to increase their yields in hopes of increasing profits by
shear quantities of milk sold. One county farmer commenting on the
futility of this, remarked:
We were getting about 25c a gallon for our base milk. Seventy-five
gallons a day at 25c a gallon wasn't paying the interest and the
mortgage on [his farm loan]. So we decided in 1928 that we would
put in some more cows and get a little extra money to help pay off
this mortgage and this loan. So we started shipping, instead of 75
gallons of milk a day, 90 to 95 gallons of milk a day. Then milk
went down from 25c a gallon to 22c a gallon. Well, we couldn't do
that, so we put some more stalls on the barn and built a new silo
and put in enough cows to ship 125 gallons of milk a day ... it was
only netting us 18 to 19c a gallon ... the more we worked, the more
we produced, and the harder we worked, it seemed like the less net
income we had.[148]
Against this turn of events the state agricultural service advocated
poultry and truck farming for those entering the county and urged a more
uniform distribution of the county's cattle. Some farmers had too few
cows for even their own use. Others had too many and no feed. "A few
good cows well kept, rather than a large number poorly fed, will bring
in a steady income, that will do much for our farmers in their present
conditions," advised County Agent Derr.[149] He also hoped to see
farmers concentrate on the butterfat content of their milk and to
increase their production of cream for which there was a continual
market; the skim milk left after the removal of cream could be fed to
calves, pigs or children. Most often Derr cautioned against the dangers
of complete specialization at the expense of an integrated farm in which
each facet of the farm was both aided and benefitted by every other
part. "The old slogan, 'the cow, the sow and the hen,' is a very true
one," he wrote, "especially in the South."[150]
Derr did well to emphasize the quality of milk products. A 1932 ruling
in the District of Columbia requiring a 4% butterfat content in milk
sold there occurred just as Derr was complaining that "with many the
quality of the milk is not such a vital question as the quantity."
Holstein cattle, which gave higher yields but less rich milk than did
Jerseys or Guernseys, predominated in the county, making the new demand
a difficult one to meet. In desperation some farmers tried
cross-breeding the two strains with mixed results; the inevitable
outcome was to compromise the county's movement towards establishing
herds of pure-bred animals.[151]
The mixing of breeds to increase butterfat content was not the only
element which undercut the breeding program. One problem, the selling of
highly profitable animals, was yet another hazard of success. "Owing to
the excellent reports being made by our cow testing associations,
numerous buyers from other states have come into the county and by
paying almost fabulous prices have taken away quite a number of our best
animals," Derr wrote in 1926. "In some cases this has proved a costly
undertaking for our dairymen, as by bringing new animals into their
herds ... either T B or abortion has been introduced."[152] Another
factor working against pure-bred stock was the depression, which for
farmers encompassed not only the 1930s, but the entire period following
the deflation of World War I prices. With less cash available, many
farmers bought poor quality bulls rather than invest the money for a
pure-bred animal.[153]
Notwithstanding these setbacks, dairy farming continued to be Fairfax
County's predominant (and most prestigious) industry during the 1920s
and 1930s. Indeed, it flourished well into the 1950s and was eclipsed
only by the overwhelming spread of urban workers into the area in the
second half of the century. Until this development occurred, it was the
dairy farmer's life which set the style and pace of life in the county.
* * * * *
Mechanization and specialization of the family farm did not necessarily
lighten the farmer's workload. An electric machine could cut several
hours per week off milking time, but this time gain was offset by the
hours spent on sterilization and maintenance. Threshers eliminated the
time-consuming chore of hand-flailing the grain, but the farmer still
had to cut and stack his harvest, and it took several men a number of
days to run the machine. The grower was at the mercy of the machine's
owner as to the day and time he was able to thresh; here again, he lost
a measure of independence.[154] The excellent efforts of the Dairy Herd
Improvement Associations also produced work for the farmers, especially
those unaccustomed to bookkeeping. The landowner who had kept his
records in an old shoe box was now expected to record the precise weight
and butterfat content of the milk given by each cow, as well as the
market value, number of days tested and amount and cost of grain fed the
animal. The data shown in the Herd Record Books belonging to C. T. Rice
reveal them to be complex documents which required in addition to the
above information, hereditary records, descriptions of physical
features, and yearly and monthly production averages.[155] The efforts
were rewarding, of course, but, added to the farmer's already overloaded
day, the recordkeeping could be burdensome. Both Agents Derr and Beard
complained constantly of the farmer's reluctance to keep records and in
their attempts to increase the area's professional methods and pride,
they stressed the need to keep accurate accounts of the farm's
transactions.[156]
* * * * *
The advent of technological application in the farming sector was a
cause of both optimism and disquiet. It eliminated some drudgery, it
streamlined and modernized, but it also uprooted traditions and added
financial and emotional burdens to the already pressured farmer. To cope
with the new agricultural methods and outlook, farmers increasingly
chose to relinquish some of their independence and band together to
solve their problems.
[Illustration: "Hard Work Made Easy and Quick" wrote a local farmer on
the back of this photograph. The mechanical hay loader eliminated the
taxing work of pitching hay into a barn loft, c. 1935. Photo courtesy of
Holden Harrison.]
PART II--NOTES
_Change_
[92] Barger and Lansberg, _American Agriculture, 1899-1939_, 212.
[93] _Ibid._, 201-202.
[94] Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979.
[95] _Ibid._; Bailey/Netherton, December 19, 1978; Barger and Lansberg,
_American Agriculture, 1899-1939_, 212.
[96] Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979.
[97] Nickell and Randolph, _An Economic and Social Survey of Fairfax
County_, 75-76; and Derr Report, 1925, photo section.
[98] Derr Report, 1936. In 1940 there were still only 298 tractors in
the county. See _Agricultural Census, 1940_.
[99] Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979.
[100] Barger and Lansberg, _American Agriculture, 1899-1939_, 221; Richard
Peck was among those in the Floris vicinity who believed that the early
machines "ruined" a good cow; see Peck/Netherton, February 23, 1978.
[101] Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979. The Harrisons bought their
equipment quite early--around 1924; McNair, "What I Remember";
Peck/Netherton, February 23, 1978; J. Middleton/Netherton, February 24,
1978; Bailey/Netherton, December 19, 1978.
[102] Advertisements in _Herndon News-Observer_; and Holden Harrison
quoted in Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979.
[103] Author's conversation with Joseph Beard, April 25, 1979; and Sears
and Roebuck catalog, 1927-1928.
[104] Inventory of property of George W. Kidwell, April 6, 1928, Fairfax
County Will Book Liber 11, 343-344.
[105] McNair, "What I Remember"; and notes on conversation with Joseph
Beard, April 16, 1979.
[106] Beard/Pryor, February 27, 1979; Congressional Record.
[107] Russell Lord, _Men of Earth_ (New York, 1931), 80.
[108] "Poultry Men Confer," _Fairfax Herald_, February 26, 1926.
[109] Virginia Agricultural Advisory Council, _A Five Year Program for
the Development of Virginia's Agriculture_ (Richmond, 1923), 29; and Derr
Report, 1920.
[110] Derr Report, 1926.
[111] Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979.
[112] Derr Reports, nearly every year. See, for example, 1932, 11.
[113] Beard/Pryor, January 23, 1979; and Harrison/Pryor, February 5,
1979.
[114] Beard/Pryor, January 23, 1979.
[115] Derr Report, 1932, 11.
[116] _Ibid._, 1926, 8.
[117] _Ibid._, 1925, 6.
[118] Beard/Netherton/Reid, November, 1974.
[119] _Ibid._
[120] Derr Report, 1930, 29.
[121] _Ibid._, 1936, 16; and notes following interview,
Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979.
[122] "Farm Notes" and "Scientific Feeding," January 22, 1925; and "Rid
Houses and Hens of Vermin," October 21, 1926; all in _Herndon
News-Observer_.
[123] _Ibid._, April 14, 1932.
[124] Bailey/Netherton, December 19, 1978; and _The Southern Planter_,
April, 1930.
[125] Statements of Holden Harrison and Joseph Beard in Beard/Pryor,
February 27, 1979; and Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979.
[126] "The Way Out for the Farmer," _Washington Star_, June 19, 1932;
_Agricultural Census, 1925_; Nickell and Randolph, _An Economic and Social
Survey of Fairfax County_, 71; "A Unique Fairfax County Farm," undated
newspaper clipping (c. 1945) belonging to Mrs. Mary Scott; Elizabeth
Rice to author, Wilmington, Delaware, January 30, 1979.
[127] Funk, "An Economic History of Small Farms Near Washington, D.C.,"
4.
[128] Derr Report, 1935, 10. Mr. D. H. McAslan made about $500 the first
year from a $143 investment.
[129] Funk, "An Economic History of Small Farms Near Washington, D.C.,"
6-7; Nickell and Randolph, _An Economic and Social Survey of Fairfax
County_; and Derr Report, 1927, 13.
[130] Description of A. S. Harrison by Holden Harrison, Harrison/Pryor,
February 5, 1979.
[131] "Fairfax Farmer States Facts," _Herndon News-Observer_, March 1,
1934.
[132] Nickell and Randolph, _An Economic and Social Survey of Fairfax
County_, 29-30.
[133] Nan Netherton, Donald Sweig, Janice Artemel, Patricia Hickin, and
Patrick Reed, _Fairfax County, Virginia: A History_ (Fairfax Virginia,
1978), 480-483.
[134] Nickell and Randolph, _An Economic and Social Survey of Fairfax
County_, 26-27.
[135] "Pure Bred Bulls," _Herndon News-Observer_, May 17, 1928, 1; and
Derr Report, 1926, 6.
[136] "History of the Maryland and Virginia Milk Producers Association,"
_Herndon News-Observer_, May 4, 1933.
[137] _Ibid._; and Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979.
[138] William Edward Garnett, "Rural Organization in Relation to Rural
Life in Virginia," _Virginia Agricultural Extension Station Bulletin 256_
(Blacksburg, May 1927), 11; and Nickell and Randolph, _An Economic and
Social Survey of Fairfax County_, 83.
[139] Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979.
[140] Garnett, "Rural Organization in Relation to Rural Life in
Virginia," and _Ibid._
[141] _Agricultural Censes, 1925, 1940._ The 1940 figures show milk
production per farm in Fairfax County to be 400% above the average in
the state.
[142] Derr Report, 1937; and "State Dairy Herd Improvement Association,"
_Herndon News-Observer_, August 8, 1935.
[143] Beard/Pryor, January 23, 1979.
[144] "Fairfax Farmer Threw Away His Plow in 1928 and Amazing Results
Have Been Revolutionary," _Richmond Times-Dispatch_, September 17, 1951.
[145] Oliver Martin, _On and Off the Concrete in Maryland, Virginia and
West Virginia_ (Washington, 1930), 26.
[146] Derr Reports, 1926, 6, and 1927, 13.
[147] Milk prices dropped from $4.05 per 100 gallons in 1920 to a low of
$2.10 in 1932. By 1935 they were still low, but had risen some to $2.25.
The prices given are July figures; January listings were generally a bit
higher. See _Virginia Farm Statistics_ (Richmond, 1936), 59.
[148] Beard/Pryor, January 23, 1979.
[149] H. B. Derr, "Helping Farmers," _Herndon News-Observer_, April 14,
1932; and Derr Report, 1927, 13.
[150] Derr, "Helping Farmers."
[151] Derr Report, 1932, 5.
[152] Derr Report, 1926, 6.
[153] Derr Report, 1932, 6.
[154] McNair, "What I Remember"; and _16th Census of the United States,
1940, Agriculture--Volume I, Statistics for Counties_ (Washington, 1942).
[155] C. T. Rice Herd Record Books, 1923-1937, in possession of Mrs.
Mary Scott.
[156] Derr and Beard Reports, nearly every year, see especially 1926,
1932.
PART III
_Professionalization and an Increased Standard of Living_
Specialization, whether in truck farming, dairying or poultry raising,
streamlined the farmer's work and gave him an in-depth body of knowledge
in a particular field. This expertise made for occupational prestige and
increased status in non-farm communities; acknowledgment of the farmer
as a professional developed markedly during the 1920s and 1930s.
Detailed knowledge had been essential to the general farmer but it was
not widely recognized as a specialized skill. The professionalization
taking place was also due to the farmer's own recognition of his unique
role and his attempts to enhance it through farmer's clubs, educational
opportunities and community projects. It also reflected a larger concern
in the nation with upgrading standards and promoting solidarity among
discrete occupational groups, a remnant from the movement towards
efficiency and proficiency of the Progressive Era.[157]
An important advance for the farmer was the increased opportunities in
agricultural education. The Hatch Act had provided for agricultural
programs to be established in the Land Grant Colleges, and ensuing
legislation in 1917 called for farm courses to be added to the high
school curriculum.[158] This significant step was resisted for a short
time in Fairfax County, where the school board preferred to teach Latin
rather than agriculture in the schools, a policy held in disdain by
local farmers: "Latin was of no use unless you want to go around the
barn and swear at some creature in an old language."[159] When
vocational training was finally adopted in 1919, the chances for farm
children to keep up with the burgeoning technology and sharpen their
acquired skills were immeasurably increased. In Virginia practical
skills were taught but so were a program of social studies dealing with
the quality of life in rural areas, focusing on problems of
transportation, recreation, resource protection and consumption
patterns.[160] Such official sanction for agricultural education was a
recognition that farming was not merely a plodding or unskilled
activity, but an exacting science which required intelligence and
application to master.
Extensive study of agriculture in high school or college was the ideal,
of course, but a number of programs were developed to further the
established farmer's basic skills. Ray Harrison went to Baltimore to
take a farmer's course in veterinary medicine and Wilson D. McNair
travelled all the way to New Brunswick, New Jersey, to learn the most
advanced methods of poultry farming. McNair later enrolled in a two-year
course at VPI. Another farmer, Fred Curtice, from the Navy area, had
degrees from Cornell University and took veterinary courses from George
Washington University.[161] The county agent also designed extension
schools for interested farmers. In February, 1933, for example, a
two-day poultry school was attended by 75 farmers who heard reports by
local farmers, talks by experts from USDA and VPI and workshops on
topics such as "Egg Grading," "Growing the Pullets," and "The Poultry
Outlook for Virginia."[162] Less intensive programs were also offered,
such as the free showing of a dairy-oriented film, "Safeguarding the
Foster Mothers of the World." "A profitable evening is promised,"
announced the film's advertisement, "especially to those interested in
the economical production of milk by up-to-date methods."[163]
[Illustration: The Fairfax County Grange meeting at a schoolhouse near
Fairfax, c. 1940. Photo, Library of Congress.]
Perhaps of even greater benefit to the farmer's image and expertise was
the growth of local farmer's organizations and cooperatives. The largest
and most prominent nationally was the Grange, a farmer's association
initially started in Washington, D.C., in 1867. Fairfax County boasted
four chapters of this organization, formed in the late years of the
1920s. The Grange interested itself in agricultural activities and civic
matters and it was upon its recommendation that the county agent was
appointed.[164] Of more immediate concern, however, were the local
farmer's clubs, and the unofficial associations of orchardists or
dairymen who met to discuss surpluses, crop problems or the need to
advertise. The farmer's clubs were the outgrowth of community groups
which sprang up spontaneously in the county from the mid-nineteenth
century on, but which were expanded and formalized by H. B. Derr in the
mid-1920s. As he described them they were
unique in their plans in that they are composed of twelve families
and they meet once a year at each home.... They meet in time for
dinner and after dinner ... the men go over the farm and discuss
current farm problems. Then they return to the house and listen to
some speaker who has been invited for an informal talk.[165]
Broadening and sociable, the clubs became an outstanding feature of
Fairfax County farm organization.
The minutes from the meetings of Farmer's Club #1, which was based in
Herndon and was made up predominantly of members from the Floris area,
show the variety of subjects discussed. A meeting in March, 1921,
included a lecture on contagious abortion (a disease chiefly affecting
dairy cows). Road conditions were discussed in April, 1924. Problems of
milk cooling and the effectiveness of the agricultural high school were
topics in March, 1928, and the following month state legislator H. E.
Hanes addressed the club on farm issues and voting procedures in the
upcoming elections. The club members also joined together to buy seed
in quantity in order to reduce cost and effort.
Informative as the meetings were, of equal importance was the bond of
friendship and professional affiliation which the farmer's clubs
fostered. By working closely with men of similar interests, a network
was built up which increased the agriculturalists' pride and
effectiveness; not only could the farmer identify with the attitudes and
problems of his associates, but could work with them to fulfill mutual
needs. The sincere respect felt among members of this group is shown in
the following tribute, written after the death of one associated farmer,
S. L. Chapin:
Be it resolved: That we pause to drop a tear of sympathy and love,
to express in our humble way the deep feeling of our loss. Bold and
fearless in the expression of his opinion, kind and considerate at
all times, and under all conditions. His life and association with
his fellow men were full of love and tenderness.... To his bereaved
family we tender our deepest sympathy and may the recolections
(sic) of his cheerful disposition ever remain fresh in our
memories, as we recall many pleasant incidents of his
associations.[166]
As farmers organized, they reinforced their own values and occupational
identity, and what is more, they combined their efforts to work for the
change they sought most. The Maryland and Virginia Milk Producers
Association is an obvious example of this. Smaller cooperatives, many of
them outgrowths of the farmer's clubs, sprang up throughout the county,
though none of them had the longevity or impact of the Maryland and
Virginia Milk Producers Association. A Floris Milk Producers Association
was founded in 1925 to operate and repair milk collecting trucks and the
Dairy Marketing Company and Fairfax County Farmer's Service Company
(which featured cooperative buying of seed) started a few years later.
None of these bodies remained permanent features of the area's
organizations, but all helped the farmer to see the advantage of
collective effort. The professional attitude adopted by the farmers'
groups is evident in the stringent standards required in their service
contracts. No longer was an informal gentleman's agreement sufficient.
Farmers expected seed to be of a certain weight and quality, milk to be
delivered "at a coolness satisfactory to the dealer," and sanitary
measures to be strictly followed.[167] In effect the cooperative
movement enlarged the farmer's working partners to include not only his
family and hired labor, but the community as a whole.
* * * * *
[Illustration: The Floris Home Demonstration Club, 1930 winners of the
County Championship for most effective club. Photo in H. B. Derr
Reports, Virginiana Collection, Fairfax County Public Library.]
[Illustration]
[Illustration: A 4-H Club display at the county "Achievement Day,"
showing the stress on nutrition of the Oakton and Pope's Head Clubs.
Photos in H. B. Derr Report, 1930, Virginiana Collection, Fairfax County
Public Library.]
[Illustration: A community fair, c. 1922, similar to those held in the
Floris area. Photo in H. B. Derr Report, 1922, Virginiana Collection,
Fairfax County Public Library.]
[Illustration: A suggested model farm for Fairfax County developed in
1924 by County Agent H. B. Derr. The model includes crop rotation,
annual budget and a schedule of livestock feeding and purchase. Photo in
H. B. Derr Report, 1924, Virginiana Collection, Fairfax County Public
Library.]
Women and children were also encouraged to professionalize. Working
jointly with the agricultural agent was a "home demonstration agent" who
gave advice, lectures and demonstrations geared toward increased economy
and convenience for the homemaker. Home Demonstration Clubs were
organized in each community to acquaint farm women with the newest
research on food preservation, household efficiency and organizational
skills. Courses in fancy needlework and cake-baking were sometimes
featured but the home demonstration agents' work more frequently took a
pragmatic bent. The seriousness with which the homemaker was regarded,
and the new image of professionalism which she hoped to evoke is
evidenced in the schedule of classes led by agent Lucy Blake in early
1938:
January Home Lighting and Wiring
February The Homemaker as Planner--Her Job and the Planning Center
March Schedules and Deadlines
April Citizenship
May The Homemaker as Handyman
June The Homemaker as Buyer[168]
In addition, the clubs raised money for neighborhood beautification and
worked on community projects. The Floris Club annually canned fruits,
vegetables and meats for a hot school lunch program and also donated
their time to serve it. As in the more male-oriented Farmer's Clubs, the
organizations fostered pride and identity among the farm women, as well
as concretely improving conditions on the farm.[169]
The home demonstration agent also ran the county's 4-H clubs, branches
of a nationwide organization founded in 1903. Four-H members dedicated
their "heads, hearts, hands and health" to improving rural conditions;
the club's goal was to give practical training to children whose life
was likely to be spent on the farm. Boys were schooled in agronomy,
mechanics and animal husbandry and pursued individual projects in these
fields. Girls also worked both with groups and individually in such
areas as "food for health," clothes remodeling and room improvement.
Summer camps, rallies and fairs were also sponsored by 4-H Clubs. At one
camp, held near Woodlawn, the week-long program included workshops in
canning, basketry and utilization of dairy products, a sidetrip to see
fireworks, and those perennial camp favorites of swimming, "weenie
roasts" and stunt nights.[170]
[Illustration: The 4-H Girls Camp at Woodlawn. Fewer boys were able to
attend such camps since their labor was needed on the farm. Photo in H.
B. Derr Report, 1925, Virginiana Collection, Fairfax County Public
Library.]
[Illustration: The cream of the crop of Fairfax County girlhood on a
float meant for the Piedmont Dairy Festival parade. Photo in H. B. Derr
Report, 1930, Virginiana Collection, Fairfax County Public Library.]
The 4-H Clubs never caught on in Fairfax County to the satisfaction of
the home demonstration and agricultural agents. "The past year has not
been a banner year for club work," wrote Derr in 1926. "Four clubs were
organized ... but the agent is inclined to think that with a number of
[members] this was done to be excused from a study period. The small
amount of work done on their projects seems to substantiate this
belief."[171] The clubs grew slowly partly because they overlapped the
work of the Floris Vocational High School and the Future Farmers of
America Club, founded in 1927.[172] There is also some evidence that
parents were reluctant to release their children from farm work to
attend meetings.[173] For those who did join, the meetings seem to have
been fun and profitable. "Not only do you learn from 4-H how to make a
home and a living," an enthusiastic member commented in 1933, "but you
also learn how to make life worthwhile. We now realize more than ever
our duties, as the child of today will be the adult of tomorrow."[174]
As is evident in the above quotation, groups such as the 4-H or Future
Farmers of America encouraged a child to identify with and improve on
rural life. These organizations not only stressed occupational pride,
but benefitted the community by training leaders who had early
experience with professional farming techniques.
* * * * *
Aside from the need to influence milk and produce prices, two chief
concerns of the farmer's organizations were the establishment of
electricity throughout the county and the improvement of the area's
roads. The move towards rural electrification was a popular one across
the nation, cited continually as the one item most useful to the farmer
for advancing mechanization and of greatest importance in raising the
farm family's standard of living. With electricity the family could use
a radio, rid themselves of smoky kerosene lighting and enjoy the use of
more efficient and cleaner stoves and refrigeration. The pragmatic
desire for electrical equipment to operate milking machines and water
pumps was intensified by advertisements such as one which appeared in
the _Herndon News-Observer_ claiming that electricity would make life
"convenient and happy" as well as add fifteen to twenty years to the
farm woman's life.[175]
Unfortunately, the route to establishing electrical facilities in the
county was not an easy one. Some farmers used small gasoline engines to
produce power, but these, the "contrariest little machines," were
unreliable and frequently too weak to run milking equipment. Derr
reported that 98% of the farmers desired this convenience but the
expense seemed prohibitive. Commercial electric companies were reluctant
to build lines through sparsely settled areas, and the farmers were
forced to finance their own power plants. In 1933 the federal government
began a program to subsidize local electrification programs and make
them financially viable the only drawback being the undue amount of red
tape to go through involved in qualifying. "The cost of building new
lines was found to range from one thousand to two thousand dollars a
mile," stated a discouraged Derr. "We were hardly prepared to be told
that the farmers ... must organize a farm cooperative ... borrow the
money from the Government and build their own lines to be
self-liquidating in twenty years at 3% interest."[176] Difficult as the
process seemed, the farmers had little choice if they hoped to electrify
their neighborhoods. In this instance, an organization was not only an
advantage for success in furthering the community's amenities, but a
necessity.
That the Floris community was one of the earlier areas to enjoy the
benefits of electrification was a result of great effort on the part of
its citizens. A franchise for an electric power plant was granted to
Herndon in 1915 but never materialized, and prior to 1924 the nearest
generating operation was in Alexandria.[177] A group of farmers from
Loudoun and Fairfax Counties, headed by A. S. Harrison, hired an
engineer and travelled throughout the Dranesville District to encourage
farmers to contribute time and money towards an electrical plant.
Eventually they raised enough cash to form a stock company and a power
line was built between Alexandria and Herndon, and subsequently on to
Leesburg.[178] The initiative shown by the Floris farmers was rewarded
by a distinct advantage over non-electrified communities. As late as
1940 over 35% of the county's farms were without electric power. A
survey conducted in that year showed these non-electrified areas to be
the least productive, and most depressed in morale and way of life.[179]
Water and sanitation systems were also difficult to establish despite
concerted efforts by the home demonstration agents. Slightly over 10% of
the county's farm homes contained "complete water systems" in 1932,
though a larger percentage had partial plumbing facilities. Even in
1940, only 19% of the homes in the Dranesville area (and 40% in the
county as a whole) boasted running water. Low as these figures seem,
however, they were the highest in the state. Because good water was
abundant in the area, farmers saw less need to campaign for extended
water mains or sewer lines, in spite of their advantages for health and
convenience. It was not until the population boom of World War II that
really modern utilities were established in the county on a large
scale.[180]
Of greater significance was the effort to better the county's road
system. Southern roads in general--and Virginia's in particular--had
been notorious since their inception for ruts, abrupt endings and,
especially, mud. In 1918 there were only a few miles of surfaced road in
Fairfax County, and any roadbuilding or repairs were made at the
discretion of individual landowners.[181] The inconveniences caused by
the poor roads became legendary. One woman remembered the roads being so
rough that eggs would break on the way to market, and another, Emma
Millard, stated that conditions were bad enough that "you would lose
your boots when you went through so much mud and had to go back and
retrieve the boots."[182] When automobiles became more common on the
county's thoroughfares, they increased the problem of dust, deeply worn
grooves and splashing muddy water. At the same time they pointed up the
necessity for improvement. The early solid tire vehicles could barely
operate in the thick red Virginia mud, thus greatly retarding
transportation of produce and milk. "If you had three drops of rain on
the road, [the tires] started spinning and you couldn't go anywhere much
without chains," recollected one early farmer. "Every truck carried a
set of tire chains in the event it rained. In the summertime if it
rained, you stuck right on the first little grade you hit." Not until
1922 did farmers attempt to haul their goods in trucks, and even then
they "broke more axles than anything else."[183]
Farmers were acutely aware of the situation and some of their earliest
united efforts were focused on road improvement. Records of Farmer's
Club #1 show the topic to be the subject of discussion at several
meetings a year, beginning in 1909. Initially they tried only to
interest the county in undertaking repairs but as conditions worsened,
the landowners began to appeal to county judges and the Board of
Supervisors for bond issues to surface Little River Turnpike and other
main roads. Resolutions, such as the following from a Herndon-based
club, were regularly sent to government officials:
Resolved: That we, Farmer's Club #4 ... favor petitioning the
circuit judge of the county to order an election for the purpose of
determining whether bonds shall be issued for the sum of $50,000
for the construction of a macadam road from Little River Turnpike
at Chantilly to the Leesburg Pike at Dranesville, and as much more
as possible.[184]
In some cases the clubs even worked together to build their own
roads.[185] After ten years of pressure by farm groups, a bond issue was
presented to the voters to pave the Leesburg Pike, the road from
Chantilly to Herndon which ran through Floris, and a thoroughfare
extending beyond Herndon to Mock Corner. The weight with which area
residents viewed this issue is shown in a statement made by the Herndon
Chamber of Commerce: "If this bond issue fails, it will be the greatest
calamity that has befallen this community in many years." Happily the
bond issue did pass and this, plus the statewide road program sponsored
under the leadership of Governor Harry F. Byrd from 1926 to 1930,
eliminated the bulk of the road problems. Only a few years later, in
1928, Fairfax was one of the foremost counties in Virginia in the area
of transportation, with over 160 miles of surfaced roads.[186]
[Illustration: Improved and unimproved roads in the Herndon area, c.
1930. Note that the only surfaced roads ran between Herndon and
Centreville. Map surveyed by the Office of the County Engineer, Fairfax
County. Copy courtesy of Library of Congress Map Division.]
[Illustration: Stuck in the mud on one of the county's roads, c. 1911.
Photo, Virginia Department of Highways and Transportation.]
Surfaced roads were an obvious boon to marketing but they also had a
number of unexpected positive effects. Conscientious and efficient as
the farmers had tried to be, the county had worn a rather untidy
appearance for several years. A traveler observed that "the fences are
not as trigly mended or the buildings as trimly painted as in the
[Shenandoah] Valley. A haystack is merely a pile of hay and not a neatly
fashioned cock...."[187] County agent Derr also admitted that "in at
least 75 percent of the farm homes there is little or no attention to
the improvement of the home surroundings." The extension service worked
valiantly to mitigate this problem by offering courses in landscaping
and home maintenance, but to their surprise they found that the chief
stimulus to home improvement was the repair of roads. Those areas which
appeared most untidy were found on unimproved thoroughfares, which Derr
maintained had a depressing effect on the farm family. "There is a
direct correllation (sic)," he noted, "between the improvement of the
roads and the painting and fixing up of things around the house."[188]
Another beneficial side effect of the surfaced highway network was the
birth of the roadside stand for selling surplus produce, dairy and
poultry products. There were some distinct advantages to the stands, as
farmers could sell directly to the customer without the costly use of a
middleman, and did not have to transport his goods to city consumers. A
count made in 1937 found 210 roadside stands in the county.[189]
Earlier, the _Herndon News-Observer_ had reported the success of the new
markets which lent themselves "to the disposal of second-grade products
or fruits and vegetables too ripe for distant shipping [and had] grown
to an unusual business ... for the farmers fortunate enough to live
along popular highways." Business indeed seems to have been brisk; by
1926 the farmers were pocketing over $2,000 per month from the roadside
markets.[190]
* * * * *
New discoveries in technology, educational opportunities and a
refurbished transportation network were naturally considered advances in
their time; they could be loosely headed under the term "progress." But
progress does not run along a perfectly straight path, rather it dips
and weaves ignoring some people and places in its circuitous route.
Consequently, many of the changes so eagerly embraced by the farmer of
modest means were the very factors which eventually crowded out the
family farm. The farmers of Fairfax County were for the most part
unaware of their impending doom, being instead optimistic and relatively
prosperous during the 1920s and 1930s. But the small, varied and
preindustrial farm could not compete for long against the lure of city
wages, highly mechanized and specialized farms, and the inroads of the
city into rural areas.
Mechanization most drastically altered life on the family farm. Work
rhythms and patterns, previously geared to hand labor, were disrupted,
and even the sounds on the farm changed. Older cows, for example,
disliked the noise of the electric milking machines, and Wilson McNair
wrote that
horses were generally scared of traction engines with their hissing
steam, etc. When the engine met a team it would stop and one man
would lead the horses by the bridle past the engine.... At the
railroad crossing in Herndon there was a bell that rung when a
train was coming. Our pony, if the bell was ringing when we crossed
the track coming home would break into a dead run. You couldn't
hold her.[191]
To the interim farmer, caught between completely automated equipment and
the tradition of hand labor, the change in work habits, knowledge and
goals could be more than vaguely disquieting.
As mechanization increased, many began to speak of agriculture in
industrial terms, believing that "factorizing" the farm would solve its
problems. This meant dispensing with any unnecessary tasks, such as
raising sheep or making soap, and as much as possible replacing manpower
with machinery. Technical terminology started to creep into farm talk.
C. T. Rice referred to his dairy as "a milk producing plant,"[192]
ancient terms such as "culling" became "selective breeding," and even
the animals were referred to as machines, which if "poorly constructed
must be ... discarded by the good breeder."[193] To independent-minded
farmers, who, as Sinclair Lewis had observed, jealously guarded the
ability to escape the mill and turmoil of the city, this
industrialization seemed the ultimate compromise. The findings of the
Commission to study the Condition of the Farmers of Virginia (1930) show
the rural values of a most fundamental character to be those most prized
by the agriculturalist:
Among these are: a) The advantages of the country for bringing up a
family ... a greater sharing of responsibilities, a closer knit,
more stable family life.... b) The satisfactions ... of contacts
with forces of nature, of caring for plants and animals, and of
seeing them grow.... c) Greater freedom from various types of
restraints, including somewhat greater control over time and
freedom of personal action; also less intense struggle to keep up
with or ahead of others.... d) somewhat greater freedom from
illness, together with a better prospect of attaining old age. e)
Greater security against unemployment as well as less prospect of
falling into absolute want.[194]
Yet in the post-World War I period the farmer had increasingly to
commercialize and mechanize his business to remain solvent and to
"citify" his life, destroying in numerous instances the standards he
held dear.
"I used to 'farm' some and made money at it; now I'm 'engaged in the
pursuit of agriculture' and can't make ends meet," commented one U. S.
Secretary of Agriculture, echoing the sentiments of many small
landowners.[195] The new farm mechanization was, in many cases, not
particularly well adapted to the family farm in this period.
Gasoline-powered tractors, harvesters and other equipment worked most
economically on the large, level acres of midwestern farms, and the east
coast farmer with modest landholdings could not hope to compete on the
market with the streamlined efficiency of western farms. Mechanized
farming was also capital intensive. Besides the initial cost of
equipment there were expenses for maintenance and fuel. Whereas the
farmer had been able to raise feed for horses or mules inexpensively, he
could not grow gasoline.
Farmers usually had to borrow money to purchase equipment and sometimes
they over-indulged. "I know one or two that did," said Joseph Beard.
When you have several thousand dollars invested in machinery, and
you only use it three, five, ten, fifteen days a year, the rest of
the time it's sitting idle ... it would have been ... better if
they had hired their work done from someone else rather than put
that much into it.[196]
More cash was needed to buy manufactured goods as the farm became less
self-supporting, but prices for raw materials remained low during the
agricultural slump of the 1920s and 1930s. "Agriculture was much less
distressed when the farm was a self-supporting home," reflected the
_Washington Star_:
But when factories began producing commodities in quantity the
farmer could buy them easier than he could make them at home.
At first glance this looks like an admirable situation. But the
hitch arose when the farmer found himself unable to maintain a fair
basis of exchange.[197]
The result was that many farms of long-standing ownership had to be
mortgaged. In the space of one year (between 1924 and 1925) county
mortgages rose a dramatic 30% and by 1940 they had risen another
20%.[198] Worse yet, a small but significant number of farmers and farm
laborers were beginning to leave the countryside altogether to work in
the city.
[Illustration: The Kidwell farm and Floris vicinity shown in an aerial
photograph taken in 1937. Photo, National Archives and Records Service.]
The county's improved transportation system was partially responsible
for this. Access to markets had been facilitated by surfaced roads but
an easy avenue to city jobs was also opened. Short and regular hours,
higher pay and city amenities were strong attractions to the farmer who
had had to work "from daybreak to backbreak" for a scanty living.[199]
In recognition of this problem, Derr wrote plaintively in his annual
report of 1925:
The worst feature is the fact that our small farmers in the main
have such a hard time to get along that many of them are actually
training their children along more lucrative lines, and occupations
other than farming. Many of these farmers have sold their farms or
abandoned their leases and moved into the cities and are earning
more money per day than they made per week in the country. Another
important factor in this exodus from the farm is the fact that so
many of our farm boys with good health and strength, and not afraid
of hard work are making good in the city.[200]
Continuing on, Derr quoted one discouraged farmer: "One of my daughters
is making 22 dollars a week, and my wife is talking of getting a job
too. My wife can earn more in the city than I am getting so I guess I
will take care of the house and let them go to work."[201]
Ironically, additions such as electrification, intended to improve the
rural standard of living, seem to have done little to check the
migration. USDA and United Nations studies show that the very amenities
which should have made life in the country more attractive often
resulted in a large flow of the population towards urban areas, a trend
which continues today in developing countries. Even increased education,
which had as its goal professional quality in agricultural training,
sometimes simply broadened the farmer to possibilities outside his own
realm. Sociologists and agriculturalists have found these repercussions
puzzling and have not discovered clear-cut reasons for them. Perhaps
with country and city life being ever homogenized by the use of radios,
automobiles, consumer goods and the interflow of people, the step of
leaving the farm to try city life seemed less foreign and formidable. In
Fairfax County the proximity of Washington and Alexandria made it
especially tempting.[202]
It was not only farm owners who left home for city jobs, but the farm
laborers. The effect of this exodus was devastating to the county's
small farmer. Initially the scarcity of help meant cutting back
additional farm activities, the products of which were not earmarked for
the market. Rebecca Middleton remembered, for instance, that farmers
stopped raising their own hogs chiefly because of the difficulty of
hiring laborers to help with butchering.[203] As labor shortages grew,
the available help raised their prices significantly, eventually
outpricing themselves for most farmers. As Joseph Beard observed, this
trend did not affect Fairfax County in a really dramatic way until after
World War II, "by virtue of the fact that most farmers raised anywhere
from two to five children. Most every farmer's hired hand raised from
two to five children. Now there just wasn't room on this farm to employ
ten to twelve children." With such large families the drain to
Washington did not so clearly affect the farms at the outset.[204]
Nevertheless, the trend retains its significance, for the high cost of
labor, which contributed greatly to the demise of the self-supporting
farm, had its roots in the optimistic improvement of transportation
systems in the second and third decades of the century.[205]
The improved roads carried yet another liability: an increase in land
value and the consequent rise in taxation. In 1923 the average acre in
the county was worth $5 to $10; it had more than doubled in value by the
end of that decade.[206] Taxes rose accordingly. The editors of the
_Fairfax Herald_ complained in 1926 that in addition to the cost of living
which had risen 78% from 1913, they paid federal taxes which were 200%
over the pre-World War I figure.[207] The farmer also carried the burden
of cost for his much-desired roads. In addition to bond issues, there
was a Virginia state gasoline tax which fell heavily on the farmer with
his gas-driven machinery and need to haul produce to market.[208]
Taxation, like labor, machinery and manufactured goods, called for
additional cash, which was more and more difficult for the family farmer
to raise. "There's only one thing that has driven the dairy industry out
of Fairfax County, and that's taxes," concluded Holden Harrison. "The
land was suitable, the location was suitable, but who's going to run a
dairy on $10,000 an acre land?"[209]
* * * * *
An editorial in the _Fairfax Herald_ for September 6, 1935, reflects well
the changes seen on farms of the depression era.
Housewives throughout the county are becoming more and more
incensed over the steadily rising prices of foodstuffs,
particularly meats.... In many places housewives are actually
boycotting merchants who attempt to sell meat at the present price
level. The blame for the present rise in prices lies directly at
the door of the Raw Dealers and Brain Trusters. These smart young
gentlemen had a theory and in pursuance of that theory they
slaughtered a great number of hogs, in order to keep prices at an
unnaturally high level. They succeeded only too well.[210]
That the farm family was no longer raising its own meat, that they had
lost a good deal of control over the quality and availability of their
daily necessities, that housewives viewed themselves as important and
cohesive enough to organize a boycott, that farm commodities were no
longer strictly under the regulation of the farmer, and that the
government's interference was beginning to be questioned and resented
were signs of radical change in rural economic and social structure. The
farmer was no longer so isolated, nor so overtaxed with sheer physical
labor. The price he paid for these advantages was diminishing control
over a way of life which had begun to slip away.
PART III--NOTES
_Professionalization and an Increased Standard of Living_
[157] Thomas A. Bailey, _The American Pageant_ (Boston, D. C. Heath,
1966), 416.
[158] _United States Congressional Record_, 1914, 1916, 1917.
[159] Beard/Pryor, February 27, 1979.
[160] Kolb and Brunner, _A Study of Rural Society_, 424.
[161] Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979; McNair, "What I Remember" and
"Fred Curtice, Fairfax Dairy Farmer," _Washington Post_, October 24, 1978.
[162] "Poultry School at Fairfax," February 16, 1933; and "Two Day
Poultry School a Success," March 2, 1933, both in _Herndon News-Observer_.
[163] Advertisement in _Herndon News-Observer_, June 4, 1925.
[164] Beard/Netherton/Reed, November, 1974.
[165] Derr Report, 1925, 14; and 1937 Report.
[166] Minutes of Meetings, Farmer's Club #1, Herndon, Virginia, October
1, 1909 to January 13, 1935, copy courtesy of Rebecca Middleton.
[167] "Dairymen to Meet," _Fairfax Herald_, August 30, 1935; "Floris
Producers Active," _Herndon News-Observer_, January 22, 1925; Derr Report,
1927; for an outstanding example of a contract such as the one
described, see contract between Burden S. Athey and Windsor Lodge Farm,
Huntley, Virginia, May 31, 1933, in possession of Mrs. Mary Scott.
[168] Lucy Blake Report, 1938, 7.
[169] See all of the annual reports of home demonstration agents,
especially Sarah E. Thomas Reports, 1933 and 1934; and Lucy Steptoe
Report, 1936.
[170] For 4-H Club activity, see annual reports of home demonstration
agents; and "The Short Course," _Fairfax Herald_, July 16, 1926.
[171] Derr Report, 1926.
[172] "Floris 'Aggies' Organize," _Herndon News-Observer_, January 13,
1926 (sic, 1927); and Ellmore/Middleton/Pryor, March 8, 1979.
[173] "Influence of Club Members," _Herndon News-Observer_.
[174] Muriel Wheeler, 4-H Record Book, Herndon Club, 1933, in 4-H Record
File, in Virginiana.
[175] _15th Census of the United States, Agricultural Summary, 1930_; Kolb
and Brunner, _A Study of Rural Society_, 387; and advertisement in
_Herndon News-Observer_, March 26, 1925.
[176] Derr Report, 1935, 13; and Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979.
[177] Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979; and Rita Shug, "The Town of
Herndon," unpublished monograph, George Mason University, May, 1973, 8.
[178] Harrison/Pryor, February 5, 1979.
[179] VPI, _Housing_, 26.
[180] _Ibid._, 14 and 26; "Farm Home Water Supply for Fairfax County,"
_Herndon News-Observer_, June 23, 1932; and Netherton, et al., _Fairfax
County_, 519.
[181] Fairfax County Board of Supervisors, _Historic Progressive Fairfax
County in Old Virginia_ (Alexandria, 1928), 35; Harrison/Pryor, February
5, 1979.
[182] Greear/Netherton, March 23, 1978; and interview with Emma Millard,
by Dana Gumb, November 15, 1972.
[183] Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979.
[184] Minutes of Farmer's Club #1; and Resolution of Farmer's Club #14,
n.d., copy found in Minutes of Farmer's Club #1.
[185] Derr Report, 1925, 14.
[186] Publicity Committee of Herndon Chamber of Commerce, "Facts
Regarding Bond Issue Every Voter Should Know," 1924, copy courtesy of
Holden Harrison; Robert T. Hawkes, Jr., "The Emergence of a Leader:
Harry Flood Byrd, Governor of Virginia, 1926-1930," _Virginia Magazine of
History and Biography_, LXXXII, July 1, 1974, 281; _Historic Progressive
Fairfax County_, 35.
[187] Agnes Rothery, _Virginia: The New Dominion_ (New York, 1940),
124-25.
[188] Derr Report, 1925.
[189] Lucy Blake Report, 1937, 7.
[190] "Improved Highways are Big Aid to the Farmer," _Herndon
News-Observer_, December 30, 1926.
[191] McNair, "What I Remember."
[192] "A Unique Fairfax County Farm."
[193] "Cows Like Machines," _Herndon News-Observer_, April 28, 1932.
[194] _Report of the Commission to Study the Condition of the Farmers of
Virginia to the General Assembly of Virginia_ (Richmond, 1930), 35; and
Lord, _Men of Earth_, 147.
[195] Jere Rusk quoted in Joseph Schafer, _The Social History of American
Agriculture_ (New York, 1936), 159. This book also contains an excellent
summary of the problems mechanization produced for the small farmer.
[196] Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979.
[197] "The Way Out for the Farmer," _Washington Star_, June 19, 1932,
section 7, 3.
[198] Nickell and Randolph, _An Economic and Social Survey of Fairfax
County_, 53; and _Agricultural Censes, 1925_ and _1940_. The figures are
21.9% mortgaged in 1924, 28.4% in 1925 and 30.25% in 1940.
[199] J. Middleton/Netherton, February 24, 1978.
[200] Derr Report, 1925, 8.
[201] Derr Report, 1921, 1.
[202] National Rural Electric Cooperative Association, _Proceedings of
Long Range Study Committee I-III_, November 1967-March 1968, (Washington,
D.C., 1969); and _Rural Electric Fact Book_ (Washington, D.C., 1960).
[203] Ellmore/Middleton/Pryor, March 8, 1979.
[204] Beard/Netherton/Reed, November, 1974.
[205] See _Ibid._, Derr Reports, 1926 and 1928; and Schaefer, _The Social
History of American Agriculture_, 162.
[206] Virginia Agricultural Advisory Council, _A Five Year Program for
Development of Virginia Agriculture_ (Richmond, 1923), 17; and Fairfax
County Land Record Books, 1930-1931, in Virginiana.
[207] "Tax Rate," editorial in _Fairfax Herald_, April 23, 1926.
[208] Hawkes, "Harry Flood Byrd," 281.
[209] Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979.
[210] Editorial in _Fairfax Herald_, September 6, 1935.
PART IV
_The New Deal_
One of the most important changes to influence farming in the years
between the two world wars was the new interest the government took in
agriculture and its problems. For many years the nation had considered
agriculture to be not just the fundamental, but the ideal way of life.
It was with a start, therefore, that people began to realize, soon after
the turn of the century, that rural population was in fact decreasing,
and that farm life fell short of the rosy dream of pastoral independence
so cherished by Americans. A survey of farm conditions undertaken during
the administration of President Theodore Roosevelt revealed that many
rural areas lacked the most basic amenities offered in cities and that
low farm prices retarded the agriculturist's efforts to better his
condition. Farm conditions improved during the World War I years when
the cries of "Feed the World" expanded markets and expectations.
Inevitably, though, this increased agricultural production became a
liability, for when the European and domestic markets shrunk at the
close of the war farm prices fell drastically. Many farmers, hoping to
offset the low prices with higher yields, took advantage of the new
technology to produce bumper crops; the result was an additional surplus
and even lower prices. Throughout the 1920s, the farm situation remained
critical.[211]
The stock market crash of 1929 marked an extension and exacerbation of
the grim farm conditions rather than a sudden decline. It rocked the
farmer's market, of course, by further decreasing the amount of raw
products being sold; unemployed workers bought less of everything, and
often kept gardens themselves. More crucial than the crash of 1929 to
the farmer's well-being in northern Virginia were two severe droughts,
one in the late 1920s and the other in 1931. The latter was particularly
harsh. Wheat planted in October did not come up until April, and one
woman recalled that the cherry trees failed to blossom until the late
fall.[212] Thousands of tons of hay and grain feeds had to be brought in
from other parts of the country to feed the livestock, at enormous cost
to the farmers. The combination of these unfortunate elements meant more
mortgaged farms and tighter belts for the county's farmers.[213]
Relief came in the form of the Agricultural Adjustment Act (AAA) which
went into effect in the spring of 1933. One of the earliest of Franklin
Roosevelt's New Deal policies, it offered a radically new approach to
farm recovery. Whereas earlier governmental policies had relied on
tariffs or half-hearted attempts to buy up surpluses to protect farm
profits, the AAA promoted a scheme of "artificial scarcity." This was
accomplished by price supports and through elimination of
price-depressing surpluses by paying the growers to cut down their crop
acreage. Payments were financed by taxing food processors, such as
millers, who in turn shifted the burden to the consumer.[214]
Many of the AAA provisions were aimed at the large producers of the
lower south and midwest, but they also had their effect in areas of
smaller farms such as Fairfax County. Few county citizens were in
absolute want during the Depression, in part because the effective work
of the Maryland and Virginia Milk Producers Association insured steady
milk prices. Yet these and later policies were embraced as being the
only available hope for turning around the farm situation. "They were
distressed enough so that they were willing to cooperate in a
considerable degree with anything that would help them out."[215]
Implementing the programs created some initial problems. A system of
acreage allotment had to be devised for each farmer, and this involved
setting up an intricate bureaucracy which included a county committee
(made up of three local farmers), new responsibilities for the county
agent, and close association with representatives of the new federal
programs. Confusion existed about the allowances made in the act for
home consumption and the process by which allotments were decided. To
arrive at the allowances for wheat, for example, the farmer had to
complete two forms, on which it was necessary to compute his average
yield for a three-year period (1930-1932) then adjust it to relate to a
five-year nationwide average; this figure, reduced by 15 to 20 percent
was his allowed production. The ultimate decision was made by the
members of the county committee who had been elected by the taxpayers.
"I've often wondered whether our judgment was accurate enough to really
be used, but it was used," commented Holden Harrison who sat on the
board.[216] The AAA county committee sought to be equitable in its
determinations, but as in any process which tries to fit a series of
requirements to individual cases, the decisions sometimes seemed
arbitrary or unfair. Derr cited a case resulting from the Potato Act
(which required a farmer to pay a penalty for yields exceeding his
allotment) in which an older couple had "had poor luck with their
potatoes for the base years; [they] almost wept when they learned that
their future lease would be only forty bushels and they would have to
pay a tax on what they sold over that amount."[217] Snags also occurred
in the administration of the farm loan program, designed by the
government to aid farmers in the purchase of seed and fertilizer. Not
only were elaborate accounts of mortgage, store and personal debts,
unpaid taxes and notes required (sometimes for a loan of $25.00), but
repayment of the loan was set for dates such as July 1, when the crops
were not yet harvested and ready cash was scarce. As a result, much of
the money designated for aid to Fairfax County was never applied
for.[218] To the farmer, accustomed to deciding for himself what and
when he would plant, and unfamiliar with the niceties of bureaucratic
finagling, the government sometimes seemed more geared to interference
than assistance.
In reality, the programs affected Fairfax County less than other parts
of northern Virginia. Statistics from the Virginia Department of
Agriculture and the USDA show that only 71 wheat adjustment contracts
were taken out in Fairfax County in 1935, compared to 233 for Fauquier
County and 351 for Loudoun County. As each of these neighboring counties
contained over 2,000 farms, these are small figures indeed.[219]
The federal government set few limits on milk or poultry production, the
county's two main economic sources, so the benefits of the AAA programs
were often indirect. The principal effect was to force farmers to set
aside about 15% of their land from wheat or corn production. Because
Fairfax County farmers marketed little of their grain production, the
outcome was that they received a bounty for planting another crop on
this acreage, or allowing it to lie fallow and be fertilized. The policy
resulted in a strong soil improvement program in the county, which was
additionally aided by the cooperative buying power of the county
committee. This meant, for instance, that purchases of lime needed to
improve Fairfax County's acidic soil could be had for $3.50 a ton, the
cost at the quarry, plus handling charges.[220]
Of even greater benefit to Fairfax County farmers was the moratorium on
mortgage and even interest payments during the Depression's most severe
period. Individual banks, such as the National Bank of Leesburg, which
held many farm mortgages, also voluntarily followed the government's
policy of leniency on collection of farm debts. This relieved much of
the stress on the area's producers, allowing them to retain their land
and, in some cases, even improve their holdings.[221]
The Depression years saw the advent of a radical new policy of
government influence in farm affairs. Where laissez-faire had been the
federal rule (and the farmers' desire), a control was now exercised over
production, marketing and farm improvement. Though the farmer might
believe this mitigated his independence and tied his judgment to that of
an impersonal bureaucracy, he was forced to accept Uncle Sam's
interference. The role of the government in designing agricultural
policy proved to be a lasting one, still felt by the farmer of the
1970s.
PART IV--NOTES
_The New Deal_
[211] Barger and Lansburg, _American Agriculture, 1899-1949_, 72-112.
[212] Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979; Rogers/Corbat, et al., June
12, 1970.
[213] Beard/Harrison/Pryor, March 6, 1979.
[214] Bailey, _The American Pageant_, 842-43.