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When Cotton Died

We were going to advise-which meant TEACH in my family, Walter Cain, one of Daddy's prize-winning students. Now a successful farmer, his cotton crop was doing poorly. This farm was well known for its ability to produce record breaking yields of cotton. Mr. Cain's grandfather planted cotton as did Mr. Cain's father and in the same fields. So it was an awful thing that was happening. Cotton had grown here for generations of Cain families. 

Crop rotation was a familiar phrase in our house as words like Sunday school lesson, Rhode Island Reds or lettuce or Farm Journal. 

Walter Cain knew what was coming. He and my father had different ideas on planting hay, peanuts or soybeans in the cotton area and rotating the cotton to a different area. "Cain won't budge" was what I heard my parents agree on. This time, though, Mr. Cain agreed. "Yes, I'll try it. I'll try, anything!" Walter Cain planted peanuts and in a new section, planted cotton. He and my father shook hands. I smiled because an agreement meant laughter and home-churned peach ice cream.