Recently, a friend invited me to his farm to pick blackberries. We got on his Gator Utility Vehicle and rode deep into the woods. The berries hadn’t fully ripened yet, but we picked some anyway!
Picking blackberries brought back childhood memories. Then, we picked blackberries for survival. Blackberries are a nutrient-dense superfood packed with fiber, Vitamin C, and antioxidants.
I grew up in abject poverty in the segregated South. Dad had asthma and no health insurance. Medicare and Medicaid didn’t exist. We didn’t have enough money; therefore, he couldn’t go to the doctor for treatments. He had to rely on home remedies to manage his condition. Some nights, he stayed up all night near the coal oil lamp. A rag was over his face and he was breathing an awful smelling powder in an effort to get some relief.
When morning came, he was still struggling to breath. His eyes were as big as saucers because he was sick, hadn’t slept, and still had to go to the cotton field. This was the first time I had actually witnessed fear in his eyes. He and MaDear went to the field anyway because they had to provide for their family.
Food was extremely scarce. The neighbors raised chickens, pigs, and cows for food. We couldn’t afford to raise poultry or animals because we didn’t have the money to feed them. There was a cornfield in front of our shack. We called it mule corn since it was grown for the neighbor’s mule.
MaDear went to the field and gathered some of the corn for us to eat. We survived off that corn for three days. When possible, she added green vegetables to our meal. She went to the woods and found poke salad to cook. This is a bitter green plant made from pokeweed. The leaves of the plant must be boiled to cook out the toxins. This was a survival food for impoverished families.
MaDear knew how to survive since she was raised on a farm. God supplied the earth with fruit trees and berries. Sometimes, we dressed in long sleeves and straw hats, and ventured out in the deep woods to pick blackberries or look for fruit trees. We didn’t know what creatures lurked in those woods and we didn’t care. We were in search of food!
On the way back to our shack, we were so proud of our bounty that we didn’t mind the scratches we got from the vines, bushes, or thickets.
Picking blackberries with my friend reminded me of my childhood. It also reminded him of his. We’re now retirees who can afford to buy blackberries, but neither of us forgot our upbringing.
Francie Mae. June 17, 2026.