OTUS THE HEAD CAT

State’s last family Velcro farmer turned out OK

Dear Otus,

I am your biggest fan. Seriously. We named our son Otus (Otey) and our daughter Kalaka (Kallie).

Congratulations [April 1] on the 34th anniversary of your weekly column in the newspaper! That has to be some sort of record for a deceased feline [since 1992], at least in Arkansas.

I have all 1,724 of your columns dating back to 1980 laminated in 62 pleather-bound albums. All the columns, that is, except one. Kwaad, our rescue kooikerhondje, ate your poignant, inspiring Charles Bonnett Prize-winning column about the disappearing family Velcro farms.

Would you please, please reprint it so I can complete my collection?

  • Greisin Witzelsucht, Stuttgart

Dear Greisin,

It was wholly a pleasure to hear from you. I am honored and humbled. Here for your archives is the column that ran on June 29, 1991, under the headline, “Family Velcro farmers stuck with grim future.”

Eb Dawson kneels in his fields and lets a handful of dirt trickle through his calloused fingers.

He slowly shakes his head as he gazes across a gently undulating sea of young Velcro, the leaves damp from the morning dew. Times are tough for this fourth-generation Velcro farmer.

“My daddy’s daddy’s daddy first farmed these fields,” the 39-year-old Dawson says. “He had 40 acres and a mule and thought he was king of the world. I’ve got 1,200 acres and a million dollars in equipment and I don’t know how I’m going to make ends meet.”

Dawson’s Ozan Acres spread is in Hempstead County, sprawled along Arkansas 29 between Blevins and Hope. Despite the most modern farming methods and computerized production, Dawson sees himself as a dying breed - the family Velcro farmer.

“Most of my fellow Velcro growers have sold out to the big corporations,” Dawson says. “They just couldn’t manage, what with overseas outsourcing and cheap labor. For example, a Vietnamese Velcro plucker earns about 18,900 dong a day. That’s about 90 cents.

“When my great-grandfather first planted Velcro, the market was just getting started. Those were boom times. They thought the stuff was a miracle fiber back then. But the Depression and perfection of the coil zipper really bottomed out the market and overhead soared. I guess we were just too stubborn to give it up.”

Much of the problem lies in the plant itself. The common Velcro plant (Velcrumadae claspidus) is a legume native to China and Southeast Asia that grows to 18 inches high and has a bright red astilbe-esque flower.

Velcro’s tough, fibrous lamina contains the hook-shaped bristles that are separated at the Velcro gin, compressed into sheets and cut into various shapes. It’s used in everything from swimwear to spacesuits.

It’s also a fickle plant requiring constant monitoring. Eighteen-hour days are not uncommon during the growing season from early May through mid-August. Velcro farmers have been known to come from the fields covered head to toe by the clinging plants. Dawson is no exception.

“I have to laugh when I think of all the times my wife, Betty Jo, and my two daughters would take me out back and pluck Velcro off me for an hour. Once the family cat got stuck on my leg and we had to cut her off with a pair of pinking shears.”

Humor keeps Dawson on an even keel these days. That and his off-season hobbies of macrame, playing the Dobro and installing drywall.

“Velcro is in my blood,” Dawson said later as he watched the sun turn crimson as it set over the back 40. “Once it sticks to you, you’re stuck for life. I just hope I’ll have something left to turn over to my daughters one day. Hannah, our 7-year-old, has dolls made of Velcro. She sticks them on Emily, our 4-year-old. I think Velcro is in their blood, too.”

Update: Sadly, the drought of ’92 forced Dawson to sell the farm to Tyson Velcronic Industries. Happily, Dawson sold the rights to his farm story to cable’s Lifetime channel, and the made-for-TV movie The Last Harvest, starring Cheryl Ladd and Ted McGinley, was a big hit in 1995.

The film won a coveted CableACE Award and the lucrative overseas royalties allowed the Dawsons to send little Hannah (now 37) to cosmetology school at Regency Beauty Institute in Shreveport, and Emily (now 34) to intern at Givens Taxidermy in Stuttgart. Dawson and Betty Jo are retired near the Self Creek Lodge on Lake Greeson, where his macrame has won national craft awards and sells well on eBay.

Until next time, Kalaka reminds you that Velcro is a registered trademark of Velcro USA Inc., a subsidiary of Art Vandelay Imports/ Exports.

Disclaimer Fayetteville-born Otus the Head Cat’s award-winning column of humorous fabrication appears every Saturday. Email: mstorey@arkansasonline.com

HomeStyle, Pages 38 on 04/12/2014

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