A Dying Breed
This endeavor has become a part of my career as a photojournalist and the Hunter's have become part of my family. I began this project while on the photo staff of the Winston-Salem Journal. It became a turning point in my 10-year career at the paper and opened my eyes to the possibilities away from the medium of a newspaper. I had worked on many other self-driven essays at the paper, but this one was different. Somehow I knew this would be one that was part of my life.
What I produced in 1999, was "Season of Hope", the story of a small, three generation tobacco family that had survived two quota cuts and gone from farming 27 acres of tobacco to farming just 11. I photographed their eason from April until October. But the story did not feel finished to me.
About six months after we ran the story, I ran into Grady Hunter, the patriarch of the family, and found out he had been diagnosed with Lung Cancer and had already undergone two chemotherapy treatments. Grady Hunter was not only the family's patriarch, but also a major political player in North Carolina that stood for Tobacco farmers. He sat on the board of commissioners in Yadkin County and was on several other political committees in North Carolina. Everyone who knew Farming, knew Grady Hunter.
I went back to photograph Grady's struggle with the disease and it's affect on the rest of the family. Grady was an avid smoker and bucked the idea that smoking could cause cancer. He never blamed smoking on his illness, but said the doctor's had told him it just as well could have been caused by the chemicals he had used most of his life on the farm. Grady died in January of 2001 and his last request was that his son, Brent, take over his seat as a county commissioner and take on his political fight for tobacco farmers. Brent did take Grady's seat as commissioner, but is now struggling with the decision of continuing to farm tobacco.
On one of my recent visits to the farm, I asked how Brent was handling his father's death. He said, " well, I keep finding myself trying to play catch up, I can't seem to get thing's organized. I not only lost my Daddy, but I lost the Patriarch of the family and my Partner.
This essay is about a dying breed of tobacco farmers. I have photographed Landon and his sister, Jessica work along with their Father and the other migrant workers topping tobacco and I have photographed them laughing like kids while cooling off in a water fight. I can see a worried look on young Landon's face when Brent talks about quitting tobacco farming but I hear the excitement in his voice while he explains how the Chicken housing contracts would work. Landon is fully aware that Hunter Farms may not be known as a family tobacco farm in his generation.
