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When I get to thinking about it, it seems like our little family of four ate a lot of potatoes during those dusty days of the 30s. I suppose that’s because we DID eat a lot of potatoes back when I was just an ugly little kid in overalls and long socks that sometimes required garters to hold ’em up. I bring up the subject of potatoes today because out here in Northwest Kansas, we’re only 5 or 6 weeks away from planting those little seed pieces. But first, we had to order the seed, as well as figure out a place to plant them.
And we didn’t plant just a few short rows in the garden. No sireeBob! We planted about a half acre of them, or however much space it might take to use up a 100 pound bag of seed potatoes that went in the ground just about every spring. And I can remember 5 or 6 gunny sacks full resting comfortably in the root cellar after harvest in the fall. Hardly anybody has the storage space today that a root cellar provided. But then, hardly anybody plants a half acre of spuds these days anyway and you don’t need much space to store a crop from a 15 foot row.
About now, if weather permitted, Dad would hook up the two-row lister to the 10-20 International tractor and list up maybe 30 or 40 rows, maybe 100 feet long. Or however much space it would take to accommodate 100 pounds of seed pieces. At planting time about the 20th of March in Southwest Kansas, Dad would repeat the process, but would make rows where the ridges had been before. Those old lister shears made a nice seedbed.
I think it took longer to cut up the spuds into viable seed pieces than it took to plant them, being very careful to be sure there were two eyes in each seed piece. That job would be a nighttime family project after supper while listening to the radio.
We planted Irish Cobblers, a white potato, as our main crop, and also some Early Ohio red potatoes because they were better keepers. So, the rows were freshly plowed out there and we began to plant. A seed piece was placed in the row, cut side down, at about 12 inch intervals. Then, with a rake, we pulled the soil down from the ridges to cover the seed pieces to a depth of 5 or 6 inches. When the potato begins it’s growth, the new potatoes form above the seed piece so it’s important to plant them fairly deep.
You know, I don’t remember watering the growing plants very often, if at all. We always applied a thick covering of wheat straw mulch between the rows which assured us that every little rain shower would provide needed moisture to the crop. Without the mulch, the soil dried up quickly.
The biggest problem in the potato patch was the same one we have today. that would be the nasty Colorado Potato Beetle. There were no sprays or dusts in those days to solve the problem, so brother Max and I were appointed to get rid of those hordes of beetles. We were armed with a stick and a half a can of coal oil (kerosene) and spent many sweltering days flicking those stinking bugs into their final resting place. Today, all you have to do is lightly dust the plants with 5% Sevin D, and you’re home free!
At harvest time, out came the lister again and Dad guided it down the rows and turned up those beautiful potatoes. All winter long, almost everyday, we would be treated to potatoes that were mashed, fried, baked, boiled, creamed or augratined. It was just another way to whip the dust, heat and drought of the times.
Kay Melia is a longtime broadcaster, author and garden in northwest Kansas.