MY JOB

When I graduated from High School, there was a job waiting for me at our local bank (I had worked OJT (gratis, of course) at the Bank President's general store/post office after school for my entire senior year). I married the drunk shortly after and four years later realized that I was not going to be able to support the family working at a bank. I then went to work at a Shoe Shop (we made Old Maine Trotters) where I stayed for twelve more years until I met Dave and we moved out here in February of 1981. In preparation for the move, our local high school had sent me some out-of- use text books to brush up on my shorthand, bookkeeping, etc.

I had a terrible time finding a job! I signed up for unemployment because I had been laid off (happened each year for a couple of months) when I moved here. The shoe shop now had work for me so unless I wanted to turn around and drive back 3500 miles, I was out of luck on unemployment. For a person who has always taken care of the whole family, it was unacceptable to me to ask Dave for money. My pride was really bruised.

Anyway, I was checking the unemployment office to see if they had another job interview for me when I noticed that there was a space there that said CETA and a man was sitting there. I'm normally pretty shy but desperation drives us to do strange things. I plopped my butt down, told him who I was, told him I had two children and only $400. and asked what he could do for me. The next Monday I went to work at Magnolia Citrus Association. CETA is now defunct. The deal was that they paid one half of your salary for a year until you could prove yourself to your employer. I will always be sad that they did away with the program and I will always be thanking Mr. Kimball (that was his name) for helping me get my life back together.

The office manager at Magnolia was almost ready to retire and Boy was she a tyrant. (I suspect she was also a little insane.) One girl worked for her up front and, thank god, I worked in the back office. The only time I had to deal with her was when I did payroll once a week and that was too often. She was very strange in that she would exult in the fact that she could make people cry. She treated the vendors, the growers and the Manager like shit and got away with it because she had been there thirty years. She spent most of her time playing bridge on a sheet of paper while she overloaded everyone else on paperwork. One story about her illustrates her personality quite well: She forgot to put in the new tax loads in January. She discovered this along towards March and said nothing. She went back and refigured everyone's taxes to date and took them all out of one paycheck without telling anyone (including the Manager). Everyone got a pittance and she got away with it. She actually told me once that she had made only one mistake in 32 years and she believed it!

This is how I got my job: The other office person, Arlene, who is my friend went on vacation. In her absence, the girl from the other office was expected to do both jobs. Arlene did a good job training me in just a couple of days. The office Manager was pleasantly surprised and gave me some of her bookkeeping to do. (I won a bookkeeping award in school and was the bookkeeper at the bank.) When Arlene came back, she made her take my old job. I protested but Arlene didn't dare. She was probably relieved not to have to work with the old bat all the time.

To make a long story shorter (Ha!Ha!), the office manager retired that spring and I was offered her job which I accepted. Even though I was competent enough to do things the way she had, I wanted to do better for the company so I spent the next year taking accounting in the evening at our local college.

Back in 1981, things were a lot different at Magnolia. We only processed oranges and our fruit was sold as it was run. It was reasonably easy. Things have sure changed. We are a member of Sunkist, who has gone global, and we merged with our sister house down the road, who specialized in exotic fruit (mandarins, pummelos, and all kinds of grapefruit). We will have over one million cartons this year which is still quite small until you realize that we have about 70% of the Pummelos in this whole area and we have people clamoring to join.

We are a coop, which means everything is owned by the growers. They are charged a capital fund assessment each year and get it back over a five year period. One thing I always tell my girls is that every grower is your boss. Always great them with a smile and respect. Although, Arlene is retired now, I was lucky enough to inherit a well trained girl from our other facility. She is who the growers see when they come in because she always has a smile on her face. Both of my girls are smart as whips but Patty is the one I chose to be in front just because of her lovely attitude.

What people don't realize is that every piece of citrus they consume has been washed, waxed and dried. This is done to keep out decay and to make it pretty. Americans only want pretty fruit which is a shame because fruit with a slight mark has usually been on the tree longer and is oftentimes a better tasting piece of fruit. We now deal in large part with Costco and Walmart who can pretty much dictate whatever they want. They want special packaging, special this and special that and can also just about dictate what they will pay.

This highest returns to growers I have ever seen was in 1982. That's right! While consumers are paying quite a stiff price for produce, growers are going under. Most of the people still making it are those who have no loans on their property. The price of water, chemicals (got to have that perfect piece of fruit), property taxes and harvesting have all tripled, what they receive for their fruit is about the same-an average of $9.00 for forty pounds. Then on top of their costs, it takes about $4.00 a carton to get it through their packinghouse-labor, comp, cartons, supplies, etc. They get back an average of $40. to $50. a bin (about 1000 pounds) and out of that they pay water, chemicals, etc. It's a losing proposition.

I saw this when I worked at the shoe shop. New England used to be full of these factories. There are now very few left due to imports. The same thing is happening now to our growers. There are no restrictions on chemicals in these foreign countries. When the consumer buys imported fruit, it may still be sprayed with DDT. Our farmers fight a losing battle trying to have pretty fruit because today's chemicals while safe, are also not as effective. They cannot compete with countries who still get cheap chemicals and have $2.00 a day labor.

This is the San Joaquin Valley. Twenty years ago, we produced 1/5 of the world's produce. I don't know what the ratio is now but nobody brags about it anymore. All I know is that it makes me sad when I write some of the grower checks-knowing when I look at it that it isn't going to cover their costs for the year.

Well, Hoss, is that enough about where I work? For once, I wish everybody could read this blog and bypass the Australian, South American, Brazilian, Spanish, etc. fruit and buy the American product. It is no more expensive, it is safer and it is an investment in your own country.